Chapter Nine — Allie

We all stayed at the hospital until a little after six, at which point, my mom insisted we all go back to the house to have some dinner.

“Come on, let’s all go back to the house. Allie, you can shower and get changed and I’ll make us all a proper supper,” she said, standing up from her seat by my dad’s bed.

“Mom, you don’t have to cook,” I protested. “I’m sure that’s the last thing you feel like doing.”

She stopped in the doorway, glancing back at my dad. “Allison, stop being such a worry wart. I’m fine. Besides, I have food in the fridge that needs to be cooked or it’ll go bad, and you know I hate waste.”

The tone of her voice told me there was no room for a debate, so I stood, Cooper and Ben following my lead, and we all shuffled from the room. My mom checked in at the nurse’s station, letting them know she’d be back in a few hours, and then we all went out to the parking lot. Cooper walked a few paces from me, and the space between us ripped my heart out a little more with each step.

“Can I ride with you?” I asked him. “I’m pretty sure my body will mutiny if I even try getting back on Cherry Bomb right now.”

There was a flicker of a smile in his eyes as he nodded.

“We’ll see y’all at the house,” my mom called out to us, leading Ben in the other direction to where her car was parked.

Cooper led me to his rental car—some kind of hulking luxury car—and opened the passenger door for me. I winced as I slid into the seat, every inch of my body sore and worn out from the long ride. When he joined me, I turned and stilled his hands before he turned the key in the ignition. “I’m glad you’re here.”

His dark eyes locked with mine and he gave me a quick kiss before turning the engine over and pulling out of the lot. The ride to my parent’s house was silent, except for my directive cues, but when we stopped in the driveway, he looked over at me again, “There’s nowhere else I would rather be.”

* * * *

When we got inside, my mom already had the house filled with the sounds and smells of cooking. She couldn’t have arrived much more than ten minutes before us, but somehow had managed to prep a whole stack of potatoes, and had some veggies roasting in the oven. “Do you need a hand?” I asked, leaning against the arch that led into the small, but homey kitchen.

My mom glanced over her shoulder, her knife poised mid-chop. “No, no, dear. You go shower and get changed. I put some fresh towels on the bed in your old room. You can both stay in there.”

I blushed at the thought of Cooper and me sharing my childhood bed. It was just one door away from my parents’ room. In high school, I’d made out with my boyfriend on the couch, but had never made it to the bedroom. It was odd to think that Cooper was going to be the first—and maybe only—man I’d ever bring home. Sure, it hadn’t happened exactly how I would’ve planned it—but the point was the same. He was here and had already met my mom and brother Ben…and hopefully soon, he’d meet my dad.

“Are you sure, mom? This looks like a lot of work?” I asked.

“Yes, dear. I’ve got this covered and Ben went out to get some iced tea. Somehow we ran out. But you know you can’t have fried chicken without sweet tea!” She waved her knife in a shooing motion at Cooper and me.

I smiled, my stomach coming alive at the words. “You’re in for a treat,” I told Cooper, pointing at the stove. “My mom apparently makes the best fried chicken you’ll ever eat in your whole life—or so my dad says. I don’t do the chicken thing, but I’m sure you’ll love it!”

“Sounds good to me! The last thing I ate was a bagel sandwich at the airport,” Cooper said with a smile towards my mom—who, I could have sworn flushed slightly. I tugged on his arm and dragged him by the hand down the hall towards my old room.

I stopped short of opening the white door and turned to pin my back against it. “You have to promise you won’t judge me once you see inside this room,” I warned Cooper, my face stern.

He arched an eyebrow and reached past me, trying to grab the doorknob. “This is gonna be good…”

I smacked his hand. “I’m serious, Cooper. This was my room in high school, you know, like a hundred years ago.”

He laughed. “What are you worried about? Is it wallpapered with Backstreet Boys posters or something?”

I glared at him. “No. It’s just…well—” I huffed and flung the door open. I took three short steps into the room and flicked on the bedside lamp, illuminating the dark room. Cooper looked around and I followed the trail his eyes made as they landed on each new item. The walls were painted a dark eggplant color—a hard fought battle with my mom back when I was fourteen—and were littered with so many posters it was almost like a bizarre wallpaper job. In high school, I’d been very into punk music and most of the bands represented in the posters were no longer in existence, just a series of one-hit wonders, or local bands that had blown up pictures of themselves for sale at their concerts or open mic nights to scrape in a little extra cash. I smiled sadly at the fact that the room looked untouched. My parents had obviously been keeping the room clean and free of dust, but everything else looked just as it had when I’d left home.

“Well?” I prompted as Cooper soaked it all in.

He glanced at me and smiled. “It’s different, but I get it,” he said, finally passing his judgment over the space.

I smiled, but then nibbled my lower lip, wondering what he was really thinking. Although it wasn’t who I was anymore, it was a piece of my past, a piece I wasn’t entirely sure he could ever understand. I’d never seen Cooper’s childhood home, not even in pictures, but I imagined it would probably look more or less like a Pottery Barn catalog…not a rebellious teenager’s shrine to bad indie rock music.

“It’s fantastic, Allie. It’s you.”

I didn’t bother correcting him that it used to be me. My tastes had evolved significantly since my high school days.

“I forgot my backpack in the car,” I said, desperate to change the topic.

“I’ll go,” he said, vanishing before I could say anything else.

Alone in the room, it felt smaller, more constricted. I remembered the weekend I’d brought home the can of paint—the weekend after everything had gone to hell—it had been a discount can at the local home improvement store, mixed up by mistake, and the owner had given it to me when he’d caught me admiring the deep color. I’d taken it home, and had been halfway through painting over the existing soft lilac color of the first wall of my bedroom, when my mom had burst in and demanded that I stop. It had been a drawn out battle with my parents, and eventually they gave in and let me paint the rest, since I’d already wrecked the existing paint, but I’d been grounded for a month and had extra chores for even longer as a punishment.

I’d never told them why I’d wanted it dark like that. And I knew I never would.

I shoved aside all the memories and regrets and distracted myself by stalking into the attached bathroom and stripping off my clothes as the shower water heated up. I slipped past the shower curtain into the shower/tub combo a second before the door swung open and Cooper appeared.

“I’m almost done,” I called out, hurrying to wet my hair. I didn’t know why, but I needed space to breath, and sharing a room—let alone a shower stall—with Cooper would be more than I could handle. At least, at the moment.

The shower curtain pushed back and Cooper—in his entire naked splendor—stepped in to join me. “What’s the hurry?” He asked, a delicious grin spreading across his face. He lowered his mouth to nibble on my wet shoulder, but I jerked away.

“I have to go help with dinner.”

He clenched his jaw, and the irritation radiated off of him. I scrubbed a handful of shampoo through my tangled hair, ignoring the pain as I tugged at the strands. He reached for me, gripping his hands on my hips, and pressed me against the wall. “What’s wrong?” He demanded, his mouth stern, his eyes dark and searing.

“Nothing. I just need some space, that’s all,” I said, looking down between our two naked bodies, unable to hold his penetrating glare.

“Space?” He breathed, almost like a hollow chuckle. “Allie, you just spent two days on a solo motorcycle ride. How much more space could you possible need? What’s really going on?”

“Nothing,” I insisted, trying to sidestep out of his arms.

He firmed his grip on my hips. “Talk to me, Allie. Tell me why you’re pushing me away.”

I looked up, meeting his eyes again, and saw a flash of pain behind his dark stare as our eyes locked. My heart twisted in my chest and I wanted to tell him everything, but something was stopping me. “I’m just tired, that’s all, okay? I’m tired and sore and worried and stressed. That two day ride wasn’t exactly a vacation, you know? I was windblown, soaked to the bone, cold, and miserable the entire fucking time!”

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry about that. I wish you would have let me put you on a plane,” he said, his voice soft as he ran his finger along my jaw line.

I shook him off and glared up at him. “I know, Cooper. I should have taken a plane, should move in with you, should quit my job and just spend my days shopping and lunching or whatever the hell it is rich bitches do. You always know best, don’t you? You have all the answers to how I should be living my life, right?”

Cooper’s head pulled back, away from mine, only a fraction of an inch, but it was like I’d slapped him. “That’s what you think this is about? Me trying to prove something?”

“I think you’re unhappy because I don’t act like the perfect little debutante girlfriend and swoon every time you step in to fix my problems. I think the fact that I’m stubborn and do things my own way drives you insane and you keep trying to stuff me back into some mold I just don’t fit into.”

From the fire in his eyes, I knew he was preparing a retort, but I stepped around him, carefully setting my feet to not slip on the slick tub floor, and pushed past the curtain. I wrapped up in a towel and left the bathroom, shutting the door hard behind me. I dressed in record breaking speed and didn’t bother drying my hair before slipping downstairs to set the table for dinner.

Half an hour later, we were all gathered around the table. Everyone else dug into my mom’s fried chicken, and I loaded my plate with mashed potatoes, cole slaw, and tray of roasted veggies.

The tension between Cooper and I was still there, like a live wire, sparking and zinging through the air, but if Ben and my mom could feel it too, they did a helluva job covering it up. Thankfully, they carried the conversation for the meal, and although I remained locked in the same tense, frustrated mood, everyone else appeared at ease. Even Cooper, who charmed and smiled his way through as my mom told him the history of the small town, local gossip, and even about how she and my dad had met twenty five years ago. At the end of that story, she got a little misty, and abruptly got up and started clearing the table since everyone had stopped eating some time before.

Cooper and Ben hopped up to help, and I piled up the remainder and joined them in the kitchen. My mom shooed us from the kitchen as she filled up the deep sink.

“Mom, please, let me help,” I pleaded with her, grabbing for a sponge.

She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Thank you honey, but please, go be with Cooper. I need a few minutes alone.” She looked over at me and through her glistening tears, offered a sad, half-smile.

I nodded silent understanding and set the sponge down. When I left the kitchen, Ben and Cooper were nowhere to be seen. I wrapped my arms around my waist, as though I could keep my stomach from churning. The dinner had been mouthwatering, and I’d eaten way too much, a choice I was now regretting as my full stomach mixed with my unsettled emotions.