Chapter Twenty-Nine
Curtis
I awoke at around 7:00am the next morning with my head still resting in Allie’s lap. For a short while, I dared not move, afraid to disturb the perfect tranquility of the morning. Allison was seated upright, her head tilted back, her chest rising and falling with her breath. She looked perfect.
It was River who ultimately woke her. Seeing that I was awake, he came over and started nuzzling my hand, meowing loudly. I could tell he wanted to be fed.
“Mmmm?” said Allie. Slowly, she opened her eyes and surveyed the scene before her: a man with his head in her lap, and a couple of cats pawing around their food bowls and giving us passive-aggressive stares.
Before she could stir, I sat up and kissed her lightly on the mouth. She smiled that dreamy smile that she reserved only for me.
“Hey, pumpkin,” she said softly. “How’d you sleep last night?”
“Better’n I’ve slept in ages,” I said. “There wasn’t much sleep the last couple of nights, not with you gone.” A mischievous light came into her eyes, and I could see what she was thinking just as clearly as if it was written on her face. “And not because there was some other woman, neither!”
Allie laughed. “Get up,” she said, pushing me off, “I need to feed the cats before they start bad-mouthing me on Twitter.”
“Yeah, and we need to get dressed,” I said, rising and stretching. “Family’s gonna be here in a few minutes. Mama’s making a huge breakfast to welcome home Braxton and Marshall.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m dressed already,” said Allie with combative eyes. She was wearing a red and black checkered plaid shirt and a pair of jeans that hung low at the hips.
“You gonna wear that?” I asked.
“You wanna fight me?”
After the hell of the last couple of days, that was the last thing I wanted to do. “Anyway,” I said, pausing on my way to the door to scratch the cats behind the ears, “I need to head back to my house and get washed up before they get here. I’ll meet you over there.”
“Don’t leave me waiting,” said Allie.
***
When I went over to the house about half an hour later, Darren and our two younger brothers were seated at the breakfast table. Marshall presided over the head of the table with the air of a poker player at a casino. He was wearing one of his usual well-tailored suits that just barely covered the tattoos that ran the length of his arms. Braxton, the youngest, sported a crew cut and a five o’clock shadow. He was glaring suspiciously around at everyone, as if looking for a reason to start a fight.
“About time you made it in,” said Marshall as I pulled up a chair between Darren and Braxton. “Out all night with your woman again?”
“Where is she, anyway?” asked Darren with a hungry look.
“Somewhere you can’t find her,” I said, cracking open a Fresca. “Anyway, where’s Zach?”
“Probably bangin’ your girl,” said Marshall. “Nah, I’m just playin’, he’s in the shower.”
“Better watch yourself, Marsh,” said Braxton in his low, rumbly voice. “You’re gonna get yourself cut.”
I blanched. It never boded well when Braxton got combative this early in the morning; it usually meant he had been drinking and would pick at least one fight by noon. One time the police came out while we were eating brunch downtown because he thought one of the waiters was laughing at him and had pulled out a pair of brass knuckles. Braxton spent the rest of the weekend in jail, and the Savery family was not welcome back in that Applebee’s ever again.
Zach came out of the bathroom just as Allie came in through the front door. I went around the table and introduced her to Marshall and Braxton, who both voiced their approval. She pulled up a chair next to me as Mama brought out the plates. She had made crepes, potato pancakes, hard-boiled eggs, muffins, and strawberry scones. Each of the boys got coffee while Allie opted for a mug of chestnut tea.
We spent most of the rest of the day together, me and the four boys and Mom and Dad and Allie. Zach wanted to watch the first disc of the first Lord of the Rings movie, even though the rest of us, including Allie, tried to talk him out of it. “This is your last day in the States,” she said, “and we want to spend it hanging out with you.” But when he insisted on it, we put it into the DVD player. The first hour was slow going, and we talked through most of it, arguing about whether Mom and Dad should have spanked us as much as they did growing up. By the time Fredo made it to the elf-place, I had almost forgotten it was on, and when the disc ended, Zach didn’t bother putting another one in.
“Anyway,” said Braxton, “I’d say our parents did a fine job of raising us. When only one of your kids turns out to be an idiot loser, I’d say you did something right.”
“Don’t talk about Curtis that way,” said Darren.
I smiled, but Braxton didn’t. “Wasn’t talkin’ about Curtis,” he said in a low but serious voice. “I was talkin’ about you.”
Darren shot up out of the papasan chair, but Zach placed an arm on his arm. “Darren, no,” he said. “He’s just trying to get under your skin. He’s been tryin’ to do it all morning.”
“Yeah, well, it’s workin’,” said Darren, his jaw rigid with anger. “I can’t hit you in front of Mom, but you better watch your back when you’re goin’ home, is all I’m sayin’.”
“Darren, don’t be an idiot,” said Marshall, coolly shuffling a deck of cards. “No one in this room feels threatened by you. If you brought a knife to a fight, the other guy would steal it and probably kill you.”
Darren sat down, glaring in irritation at all of us. Marshall was right, of course—Darren had lost a good chunk of his hair during the only fight he had ever been in, in seventh grade—but he still hated being reminded that he was an incompetent wimp.
Darren and Braxton continued to scowl at each other for an hour or two more. Allie glanced over at me nervously; an awful silence had fallen over the room, and nobody seemed to want to be the first to break it. Eventually, Zach got up and put in the second disc, and because it was his going-away party, none of us bothered to stop him.
We all watched it with varying degrees of attentiveness for the next hour or so, until Mama brought the cake out and set it on the dining room table. It was a gorgeous cake, too, a camo-colored three-tier cake with a figurine of a uniformed young man standing astride the top. Darren shoved past Braxton on his way to the table, and Braxton might have hit him if Mama and Zach hadn’t been standing right there.
“I didn’t realize your brothers hated each other so much,” said Allie as I walked her home that night. “They remind me of the Gallagher brothers.”
“The who?”
“No, Oasis. Anyway, I’m sort of amazed one of ‘em hasn’t killed the other yet.”
“I think they’re waiting until Mama dies out of respect for her,” I said. “They’ve been bickering pretty constantly since the eighth grade when Darren decided he was in love with Braxton’s girlfriend. He only wanted her because he couldn’t have her, because Braxton had her, and they spent about a year tearin’ each other up over it. The girl got so freaked out, she broke up with Braxton. Didn’t wanna go out with either one of ‘em.”
“Ain’t the way it goes?” said Allie. “Anyway, what’ve we got goin’ on tomorrow?”
“Whatever you wanna do,” I told her. “I’m gonna be spending the night over at Mama’s house, but if you want, me and a certain young lady can get up early tomorrow and go horseback riding.”
Allie smiled and leaned in for a kiss. “I really hope that certain young lady is me. And if it is, we’d better put a move on. I ain’t gettin’ any younger!”
“Well, I don’t see many other women linin’ up to go riding with me.”
“They would if they knew what was good for ‘em,” said Allie. “I’m about the only girl with any sense in this dang town.”
I smiled the whole way back to the house.