Chapter 11

David

The last time I walked up to Allison’s door was the night I’d showed up in my uniform to take her to prom. Her father had stepped out, shook my hand, and warned me about prom night traditions and how I should put tradition aside and be a nonconformist when it came to his daughter.

Maybe if he’d been a bit more intimidating, I’d have listened to him. But as it turned out, traditions were traditions for a reason.

The blood rushed to my dick, and I knew I’d better stop the memories from tenting my pants when the door opened up, and Mrs. Beall gave me a warm smile.

“Hi, honey! Come on in. It’s been too long.” Mrs. Beall had aged gracefully, but like most women her age, had found a few extra pounds and a pair of glasses. Neither did a thing to hurt her beauty.

“Yes, ma’am, it has indeed.”

She pulled me in for a big, warm hug and then pulled away. “Is that dessert?” She eyed the pink box I carried.

“Yes, I found a baklava that is close to my mother’s recipe, and I remembered how much you used to love it.” My mother used to make the stuff and fill Christmas tins for the holidays. Then she’d load up a wagon, and Missy and I would pull it door to door, delivering. The neighbors would invite us in for cookies and milk, give us handfuls of peppermints, or some other treat; and once we got a fruitcake that was so hard, Mom couldn’t cut it. I had the best memories on this block, and from the gleam in Mrs. Beall’s eyes, she remembered them, too.

She cleared her throat. “Hers was the best. Thank you so much.” She took the box and stepped back so I could go inside.

Sierra stood peeking around the corner, and her eyes lit up when I presented her with the small bear I’d picked up in the mall. “My nieces said that this place in the mall has the best bears ever.”

“Thank you.” She stepped up and took the bear, keeping her smile on the floor. She’d been so much more outgoing the first time I’d met her, but now, she was acting a bit shy. She hugged it as her mother stepped out from the kitchen.

She wore a short dress, and although it was modest, it still showed off her slim curves and perky breasts. “Thank you, that’s so thoughtful.”

She gave me a quick hug, and I breathed in her scent while I had her close. She smiled at me like she’d caught me in the act.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her as her mother led us to the dining room, explaining how she’d tried something new with the roast and hoped we liked it. She’d always been one of the best cooks and had taught my sister most of her skills. With our own mother gone, Missy would call Mrs. Beall for advice and recipes.

Her father, who’d always been glued to the TV, came in and shook my hand before we both sat down. “Good to see you, David.” He gave me a firm grip and met my eyes directly.

“You too, Sir.”

The man hadn’t changed much, except for the graying hair and a few extra pounds that had come with aging and being well-fed by a good woman.

“Sorry about your father, son. He was a good man and a great neighbor. I see the yard’s been kept up, which is nice but are you expecting to sell the house?”

“Eventually, but we’re not really in any hurry. It’s been a bit harder than we thought, going through everything, and none of us really have had the time.”

“It’s never easy. You let me know if you’re going to list it. I have a few friends who are looking.”

“I sure will.” The thought of having anyone else in my childhood home hadn’t sunk in. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, so blathering on about it wasn’t going to do me any good.

“Allison tells me you’ve taken over your father’s position at the company,” Mrs. Beall said.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s a big change from the Air Force, and I will admit I’m not sure I’m doing a good job of filling his shoes.” In fact, I knew I wasn’t. If it weren’t for Greyson, I’d be lost.

Mrs. Beall gave me a reassuring grin. “I’m sure you’re doing fine, and we appreciate you giving Allison such a wonderful opportunity.”

Allison spoke up. “We sure do.” She smiled, and I couldn’t help but notice she seemed a bit more relaxed than usual. It felt good knowing I’d played a part in her happiness.

“She’s had a bit of a struggle, you know.”

Allison’s head turned sharply as her mother spoke, and her cheeks reddened.

“Yeah, she finally divorced the asshat.” Her father chuckled.

“Richard, please.” His wife gave him a scolding look, and her eyes shifted to Sierra. “Even if we hate the jerk, it’s not a polite word for our granddaughter to hear.” She tilted her head toward the girl, but she was busy building a mound out of her potatoes.

Her father shrugged and mumbled under his breath, “Truth is the truth. She may as well hear it.”

“Daddy, please. Not now.” Allison shook her head, a weary look crossing her face, which set the tension back into her brow. “We try to only speak good things about the situation, even though it’s tough.” She gave us all a tight smile and changed the subject. “Mom was asking me earlier how Missy and Blaine are doing.” She took a sip of her wine and gave her mother a pointed look.

“Oh yes, how are they doing? How are the twins?”

“They’re doing fine. Growing. Missy is great. She loves being a full-time mom and makes Martha Stewart look like an amateur. Blaine is good. He’s lost in his art.” I wasn’t about to tell them there was tension between the two or about Blaine’s horrible addictions and behavior.

“That’s good to hear. I miss having all of you kids around.” Mrs. Beall’s eyes sparkled.

After that, we fell into a more comfortable conversation and enjoyed the baklava together, which they all agreed was a close match to my mother’s.

I thanked them for dinner, and as Allison walked me out with Sierra in tow, her mother retreated to the kitchen to clean, and Mr. Beall went to his chair.

Before Allison shut the front door, Sierra jumped up and down. “Mama! You forgot the cookies!”

“Oh, no. Will you run in and get them?” Sierra ran into the house as Allison turned back to me. “I almost forgot. We baked you some cookies.”

“Oatmeal?”

“Of course, I know how much you love them.”

“I do. They’re still my favorite.” I remembered when I’d choke them down, and how much I’d grown used to them. “You know, when I was in the military, some of the guys would have their mothers send them baked goods, and I’d make trades to get their oatmeal cookies.”

“I wish I’d known. I’d have sent some.”

“Yeah, I should have stayed in touch.”

Her eyes sparkled as the door opened, and Sierra came out with a tin full of cookies. “Mama says these are your favorite, but I don’t know why. Oatmeal is the worst.” She curled her little nose up.

“You develop a taste for them. Your mom’s oatmeal cookies are the best.”

She smiled big and took my hand as she had before. “Thanks for coming to dinner. It made my mama happy.”

“Well, that’s my favorite thing to do, you know? Is to make her smile.”

“Tell David goodbye and then go help Grandma clean up, okay. We’re going to have to get home and get you to bed soon, too.” She brushed her hand through her daughter’s hair, and the little girl smiled and looked up at me.

“Bye, David. Thanks for the bear.” She turned and ran inside, leaving me and Allison alone.

She walked over to the front railing near a pillar as I placed my cookies in the car and then went back to join her.

“So, is it really your favorite thing to do?” she asked. “Making me smile?”

“It’s probably in my top five.” I would only reveal the other four if she asked. “So, you and Doug Simon, huh? I still can’t wrap my head around it.” I had a bad feeling there were awful things she wasn’t comfortable telling me about him, and judging from the way he’d yelled at her last week in the driveway, I doubted I’d like hearing it.

“Yeah. About the only good thing he’s done for me is give me my daughter, not that he cares about her. He barely gives her the time of day, and if it weren’t for knowing it irritates me, he wouldn’t bother.”

“She’s a great kid. How could anyone not want a daughter like her?” I’d always wanted a family and kids of my own; a daughter in particular. Someone to spoil and coddle, who would look at me the way Sierra did, with a big smile and a heart filled with unconditional love. “He didn’t know how good he had it.”

“I shouldn’t have run to him when you left. It was the biggest mistake of my life, but then, it gave me her. So, how do I wish to take it all back?”

“I know what you mean. I wouldn’t regret her, either. She’s adorable. A little spitting image of her mother, too.” I couldn’t get over how much she was like her, but different, too, with her own little personality.

“Yeah, I’m not sure that always works in her favor.” She seemed to be full of thoughts, but she shook her head like she was physically clearing them away. “Having her in my life makes all the pain worth it, you know?”

Hearing the word “pain” had my blood boiling. How could he treat them that way? I wanted to say I should have never left her, but the words were choked back by a lump in my throat and the desire to kill the son of a bitch. And if I had stayed, she wouldn’t have had her daughter. I couldn’t help but feel responsible in a way. I stepped closer, lifting her chin to meet her eyes. “Did he hurt you? Put his hands on you?”

She looked deep into my eyes and gave a half-hearted smile. “No, never that. Abuse doesn’t have to be physical, David. But thank you for being concerned. You’ve always been a good friend to me. I’ve missed it, our friendship.” She wiped her face and then stepped into my arms. “Thanks for coming. And thanks again for the opportunity. I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.”

“Sounds good. And I’ve missed you, too. Thanks for the cookies.”

She watched me walk away. I got into the Cobra and took a cookie out of the tin. I didn’t ever eat in my car, but I couldn’t wait. The texture was the same, and so was the taste. As I choked it down, savoring the flavor of my past, I shook my head. I was falling in love with the girl next door all over again.