CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Day twelve. I should write a song. Instead of the “Twelve Days of Christmas,” it could be “The Twelve Days of Celibacy.”
On the twelfth day of celibacy, my diet gave to me: one set of blue balls, two chafed hands, three holes I can’t touch….
You get the idea.
Still, I’m almost halfway done with this whole mess. Dr. Lorraine should be happy with my progress. I see her tonight. Maybe I can convince her to let me out early for good behavior. Either way, with each passing day, my florist bill is getting lower and lower. Sutton always texts and thanks me. Sometimes I get a call, but it’s obvious she’s still leery. I might have to come up with something other than flowers to convince her.
But first I have to get Tawny off to the airport. It’s going to be a long day. Her flight leaves at six, so I’m up by three-thirty and on my way to pick her up and see her off. Her mother can’t be bothered, I guess.
Pulling my car in front of their house, my skin grows ice cold. I hate that place. My dad’s place. When my mom was alive, and we were still his “other secret family,” we’d sometimes walk past here. My mom would look up at it, wishing it was her inside. I always knew Ashton Kingston was my dad. He’d pop in and out of my house, fuck my mom, bring me some expensive gift, but it was never more than that. My mom believed it was. I guess she had to. She believed one day he’d leave Vicki for her. Looking back, her believing was a lot better than the alternative. Because once she gave up on him, that’s when things really went to shit.
Vicki had an ironclad prenup. My father wasn’t going anywhere, but my mother couldn’t see that. When she died, I was brought here. To this house.
“I’m all ready,” Tawny says, the front door flying open. “I didn’t sleep at all.”
“And she had two cups of coffee,” Vicki says, appearing over her shoulder.
Tawny throws her arms around her mom’s neck, and Vicki gently strokes her hair. They fight a lot. I hate Vicki, but there is a certain love between them.
Vicki’s eyes catch mine. “Thank you for driving her.”
I just nod.
Tawny takes her mom’s hand, pulling her out the door. She’s still dressed in her nightclothes, which are far more conservative than I remember. She used to love to prance around in her bra and panties, sunbathe without a top on.
“Do you have everything?” Vicki asks her, and from the expression on Tawny’s face, it must be the thousandth time.
“Yes, Mom.”
“I know you’re almost sixteen,” Vicki says. “And there will be boys in the program.”
“Pierce already gave me the sex lecture,” Tawny says. “Relax, I’m going to study music, not get pregnant.”
“Famous last words,” Vicki teases.
“Besides, I probably got your genes, Mom. What it take you, like ten years to get pregnant with me?” Tawny snips.
“That’s not the point,” I say, shaking my head. “Let’s go. Don’t want to miss your flight.”
I load up her stuff while mother and daughter have a few more goodbyes. Then Tawny hops in my car. “Pierce,” Vicki calls out, stopping me.
“What?”
She glances at Tawny through the glass. “You’re very good to her. Your father would be proud.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
She steps closer. “I just think it’s best if we try to get along, for Tawny’s sake.”
I look back into my car. Tawny is the only thing holding me to Vicki, this house, the past. I turn back toward her when I feel her hand on my arm. Yanking it away, I sneer at her, “What is this? You need more money?”
“You know, we don’t have to hate each other,” she says.
I can’t help the grin on my face. At least she admits she hates me. “I think hate is best.”
*
It turns out to be just one of those days. It starts with the early morning airport run. Any day I have to lay eyes on Vicki, that house, I know the rest of the day is fucked. It’s seven in the evening when I barrel through Dr. Lorraine’s door, shaking the rain off and finding her straightening some magazines in the waiting area. “Sorry, I know I’m late.”
She looks down at her watch. “You’re right on time.” She motions for me to head into her office, but I pause and wait for her to go first. She smiles. I think she’s testing me. “Go ahead, take a minute to catch your breath.”
I sit on my sofa, my spot for the last few weeks, but I don’t want to catch my breath. I want to let her know that I’m almost through with her. “Twelve days.”
“Twelve days?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry. What are we talking about?” she asks.
She has to be kidding. “Twelve days, no sex.”
She chuckles. “Oh, forgot to mark that on my calendar today.”
“So, I’m almost halfway to being out of here.”
Her head does this weird tilt thing, and I know I’m about to be unhappy. “Pierce, I think you’ve been misunderstanding. This thirty days of abstinence is an assignment, not the end of our time together.”
“No, I do this, and then I’m free. You sign that damn paper saying I’m done with the therapy. That’s the deal!”
“That was never the deal.”
“Then what the hell am I doing this for?”
“Personal growth?”
“You are crazy,” I bark, jolting to my feet. “I don’t need this.”
“You’re free to go,” she says, her calm tone only pissing me off more.
“You’d like that, I bet. Then you could report me as noncompliant.”
I sit back down and spread my arms out on the back of the sofa. We are back to how we started. She simply smiles and stares at me. Well, two can play that game. I plaster on my best smile, the one that always drops panties, and wait.
We spent the next forty-five minutes in silence, with my face hurting from holding the damn smirk.
She closes my file and gets up. “Time’s up.”
Damn right it is.