CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The next day, Seth and I sat on my back patio sipping lemonade in the sun. Early hints of autumn had begun to creep in after the sun set, but the days were still warm and full of summer. I’d already begun to make plans for the upcoming months, looking for cool hiking spots Seth and I could make day trips to.
Starlet ran around the yard, her nose following an invisible trail.
“Gophers?” I wondered out loud. “Moles?”
“Have you seen any rows or bumps in the dirt?” Seth asked.
“No.”
“Maybe it’s gnomes then.”
I eyed him. “Don’t tell Heather that.”
“What?” he spat, laughing.
“She’s basically afraid of anything that doesn’t actually exist. Bigfoot, gnomes, giant birds...”
“Giant birds?”
“She read some accounts in a book about giant bird sightings in the United States in, like, the nineteenth century. She thinks if she stands in an open field, they’re going to come and get her.”
“Hah. Tell her just to put on some weight so the birds can’t pick her up. Problem solved.”
“Right? It sounds like a great plan to me.” I stretched my legs out and sighed in pleasure. With fall coming so soon, enjoying the warm afternoons as often as possible was one of my top priorities.
After getting to the hotel last night, we’d crashed hard, then woke up just in time to check out. The drive back to Chicago had been smooth enough. Several times I considered asking Seth about his behavior the night before, but I also thought maybe I had just been imagining it.
You wanted to get me out of there, I would say.
I could already hear his response. It was late. She didn’t need people around.
I didn’t have a whole lot of evidence to back up my suspicions, other than the sneaking feeling that being in that house put Seth on edge.
I ran over the night in my head once more. Other than the minute before we got out of the Jeep and went in, he’d seemed most nervous whenever Ellen mentioned the boxes she wanted brought up.
The boxes… she said they contained photos.
My phone beeped, and I sat up and searched for it.
“It’s mine,” Seth explained.
“Oh.” I settled back down in the chair and closed my eyes. I was over reacting. Seth had been acting tense because it was late. He wanted to be in a basement moving furniture at midnight about as much as anybody else. Maybe I was more high strung than usual because the whole situation reminded me of what had gone down with his dad.
I wasn’t used to having a boyfriend. The sudden change was doing weird things to my head, turning me into a woman with the kind of anxieties I had previously made fun of.
This relationship wasn’t a board meeting. It wasn’t work. I needed to take a chill pill and turn my attention to other things. So far, Seth and I were working out. Maybe Type A Quinn was great for at work, but when I left the office, she needed to stay. Type B Quinn could dominate at home.
I needed to think about things that didn’t make me nervous. Like, how long had the front of my legs been sunning? Twenty minutes? Thirty? Now there was something to mull over. Since this might be one of the last days I would get to lay out, I needed to think about such a matter. All the ice in my glass was melted, a clue to how long we’d been outside.
“What time is it?” I asked casually, thinking another dip in the pool might be called for.
Silence.
I opened my eyes and peered at Seth through my sunglasses. His shoulders were hunched over as he stared down at his phone. His lips grew tight as he eyeballed the screen. My throat constricted. Something was wrong. The first sign that something wasn’t right with Seth was always silence; after that came a loss of eye contact.
“What is it?” I asked quickly, not ready for more tension.
“My dad wants to see me again.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t able to keep the note of apprehension at bay.
We hadn’t spoken about his father since the weekend of our fight. I still knew next to nothing about the man who had raised Seth. I’d purposefully not broached the topic, though I burned to know more. He and Ellen were divorced. I’d gotten that much info.
Judging merely from the change in Seth’s posture whenever he mentioned his father, it didn’t seem like they had a very positive relationship.
“So he’s coming back to town?” I asked. “Where does he live anyway? Did he stay in the area after the divorce?”
Seth rubbed the back of his neck and kept his eyes on the patio tiles. “Where does he live now? In Wisconsin. At least that’s his story. Really, who knows? He moves around a lot.” There was a hint of resentment in Seth’s voice. Clearly, he didn’t want to see his father. “He’s kind of a drifter. He wouldn’t use that word to describe himself. It’s not like he travels around the country in a van or anything, but he never stays in one place long.”
I swung my legs over the side of the chaise and sat up straight. My knee brushed against Seth’s, and I pulled my sunglasses off so we could make eye contact.
“Was he always like that?” I asked, carefully selecting the question.
“No,” came his tart answer. “He was pretty square when I was a kid. It wasn’t until… I grew up. Then my parents got divorced. After that, he kind of went on this...” Seth sucked in some air. “I don’t have the words to describe it.”
I lightly squeezed his leg. “That’s all right. When did they get divorced?”
“A few years ago. Not even three, actually. It hasn’t been that long.”
“Damn,” I breathed. “How’s Ellen doing with that?”
“She’s just great.”
I nodded. The woman I met last night seemed more “all right” than “great.” In fact, she seemed a tad lonely. She’d been pretty eager for us stay.
“Do you really want to see your dad?”
Seth rubbed the stubble along his jaw. After checking out of the hotel, we’d arrived back at my place around noon, then spent an hour preoccupied in the sheets. After that came the shower we took together. In between, he skipped shaving, leaving himself with the look I liked best on him.
“I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “No. Probably not.”
“Then don’t.”
He looked at me like I was crazy.
I lifted an innocent shoulder. “It really doesn’t sound like you’re excited about him coming, so why put yourself through having to see him again? I mean, when it comes down to it isn’t it really that simple?”
Seth’s eyebrows knitted together. He gazed down at where our knees met. “He’s my father. I can’t just push him away.”
Why not?
Maybe I didn’t get it because my relationship with my own father was pretty decent. I did know enough to acknowledge that parent and child relationships weren’t always so black and white. Even if a parent was extreme enough to be outright abusive, there were still ties to that person. You didn’t just grow up and sever them with one quick cut. Even if people managed to break free, they still went off in the world and repeated the same bad cycles they’d learned in their childhoods.
“Can I ask you more about this?” I pressed.
He didn’t say anything but looked up at me. His face seemed open enough, so I went on.
“Did something happen between you two? Is this bigger than a difference in lifestyles?”
Seth shifted in his seat. “I told you about my grandfather, right?”
“You told me he left you an inheritance and that there was some kind of a falling out with your dad before you were born.”
“Right. The two of them never made up.”
“What do you mean? They never talked again?”
“Barely. At least that I know of. I think my grandfather tried a few times to repair things, but my dad shut him down. That’s the story from most of my relatives, at least. I know they communicated a small amount when I was a kid, to arrange stuff with me and all. But it was strictly business. If it wasn’t for my mom, I might never have even met my granddad. She’s the one who insisted I have some kind of relationship with him.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “Did that have anything to do with the divorce?”
“Probably not. By the time they got divorced, I was a grown up, so I don’t think so. Then again… maybe.”
“Resentments can stew for years.”
“Yeah… Anyway, years after all of that, just a couple years ago, my grandfather got sick, and my dad didn’t get a chance to see him before he died.” Seth paused. “I know he regrets that. He wishes he had said he was sorry before it was too late.”
My stomach twisted. “That’s awful. That’s a lot to carry.”
Seth’s face contorted as he stared at the ground. He was off somewhere else, probably experiencing a memory.
After a moment, he nodded and looked up at me. “It’s not that whole thing that’s the issue between me and my dad, though. Since I was a teenager, I was closer to my grandfather than to my dad. Me and my… well, it was just easier. My grandmother died when my dad was in college, and that’s when the rift started between the two of them.”
“What happened?”
His lips pressed tightly together. “They had a disagreement over life support. My dad wanted to take her off it, and my grandfather wanted to leave her on it.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped.
“She had a boating accident and was in a coma for a while.”
“What happened? I mean with the life support?”
“While they were arguing, she passed away. Literally. They were out in the hallway or something when her system started failing.”
I bit my bottom lip, so I wouldn’t curse. This story was turning out to be way heavier than I’d anticipated. Each new piece seemed crazier than the last. “Wasn’t it up to your grandfather though? If there had been time to make a choice, as the spouse he would have had first say.”
Seth’s head inclined in acknowledgment. “That just speaks to the complexities of their relationship. My granddad loved my dad. A lot. And he respected his ideas and wishes. Even after my grandma died, Grandpa wouldn’t talk about Dad a whole lot, but when he did it was always positive things.”
“Man… and what about your mother? Where does she fit into all this?”
“Not really at all. You saw she’s still there, living in the house I grew up in, though she’s not holding onto my dad, that’s for sure.”
“She seemed really happy to see you,” I added. “I think it made her day, and not just because she needed help moving all that stuff.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “We’re good. I should go see her more.”
I took Seth’s hand in mine. He squeezed it lightly, and I pressed his hand in return.
“So you agree with your grandfather?” I asked. “Is that why you don’t like seeing your dad?”
Seth took in a long breath. I waited for his answer, but it didn’t come. Abruptly, he stood and walked to face the pool, his back turned to me.
“No,” he said to the backyard. “All of that happened before I was born. I don’t have much of an opinion on the issue. I can see both sides. My father… he can be…” Seth turned to look at me, his face hard. “He has a penchant for blaming things on me.”
I snorted. “Don’t worry, a lot of parents can be that way. People just expect the best out of their kids sometimes, I think. It’s because they believe in them so much.”
“No, it’s more than that.” Again, he looked at the ground, withdrawing.
“What is it? He has a grudge against you? He just doesn’t like you?”
Seth ran a hand from the back of his head to the front, making his hair stand straight up. “I need to hit the gym before I meet up with him.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Just like that, it became hard once more to tell myself I’d imagined his odd behavior the night before.
Push and pull. Expand and contract, just like a rubber band. That was Seth. One moment he could be pouring his heart out and the next he was running for the hills.
Were things supposed to be like this between the two of us? We’d already professed our love for each other, and that only happened two weeks ago. Wasn’t it fair to expect things to settle down for a little bit before the first real relationship issues reared their heads?
Did most boyfriends withdraw this way? My friends certainly didn’t. They shared everything with each other, putting all the trials and tribulations — the ups and downs — out onto the table for inspection. It was how they connected. How they healed. How they made sense of the world.
It didn’t seem to be that way with Seth. Again, I got the sense he hid something when it came to his parents. The whole thing with his mom the night before, and now this. Together the incidents were too much to ignore. Maybe whatever he hid wasn’t big but certainly important enough for him to feel like he needed to keep it in the shadows.
“Are you hiding something from me?” I blurted out. “Is there something else you want to tell me?”
Seth’s eyes widened slightly, but just for a second. A moment later, they were back to normal. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because you seem… I asked if your dad doesn’t like you and you didn’t answer.”
“It’s complicated, Quinn. Haven’t I already explained that? It’s why I’m not about to introduce him to everyone. He just doesn’t need… he doesn’t need that.”
I could feel my nose wrinkling. The tail end of Seth’s explanation didn’t exactly make sense, but there was nothing left for me to ask. I’d poked and prodded enough. Any more nudging might do real damage. I didn’t want a repeat of the fight in my living room. A second round of that might not end so well.
“Okay, I understand. But if there’s anything you do want to tell me… you can. I promise I’ll do my best not to judge you.”
Seth’s lips parted slightly like he was about to say something, but then they pressed closed again. He nodded. “Thank you.”
I forced a smile. I just needed to shut my mouth and trust him. Seth loved me. I loved him. That meant we would be there for each other. I’d made a promise to myself two weeks before, to not only be there when he needed me but to also give him space when he needed it.
“I’m here if you need me,” I told him, standing up to wrap my arms around him.
Seth laid his hand against my head and pressed my cheek onto his shoulder. I sucked in his sweet and spicy scent and closed my eyes. With his arms around me and the sun beating down on my back it seemed impossible that things could turn out any way but perfect.
“I’ll come back tonight, if that’s all right,” Seth said into my hair. “As soon as I can.”
I snuggled my face tighter into his shirt. “Hell yeah, that’s all right.”
As soon as he left for the gym, I rushed to catch up on weekend work and then called my friends to come over. Seth had promised to come back to my house when he could make it, though he had dinner plans with his father. That meant I could be solo till ten or later, and I wasn’t feeling being alone.
Usually, my Saturday nights were jam-packed, the one night of the week that I really let myself cut loose. Before Seth, Saturdays meant brunches with the girls, walks in the park, and, often, dates. Since the last item on that list wouldn’t be happening tonight, there was a large, gaping hole in my day.
By the time night fell I was feeling like a new person, thanks to all the alone time. It hadn’t taken long before I figured out that a ‘large gaping hole’ was actually a nice amount of time to spend by myself. It had been a while since I’d spent a whole evening alone.
The night air had the slightest nip to it, which meant it was a perfect evening for a fire. London came over after dark and helped me pull the fire pit out from the storage shed. I’d stored it after buying it months before and not using it once. When I bought the house, I had grand fantasies of weekend long get-togethers, with the whole backyard set up to entertain a crowd of people. My guest house would be full. The beer kegs would overflow, and the fire pit would get so much use it would rust out in the bottom during its first year. Reality had trumped fantasy, of course, meaning I ended up spending my weekends doing anything that was easier than stringing lights in the trees and making appetizers for people I barely knew.
Once Heather and Rory got to the house with bundles of wood we were ready to go, piling on logs and Boy Scouting it as best we could. Eventually, the flames picked up and the fire crackled and roared, tossing dancing light across the patio.
“Woo-hoo!” Rory yelled, raising the bottle of wine in celebration. “We’re practically pioneer women over here.”
“Yeah,” London agreed. “All we need is a covered wagon and a husband missing half his teeth.”
“Tell that to Little House on the Prairie,” Rory countered. “The guys were hot on that.”
“Speaking of husbands,” Heather directed at London, “have you seen Bartender Boy again?”
“Bartender Boy?” I asked, dragging my chair closer to the fire pit.
“Remember? From the hotel bar?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right! The one who wanted to give London extra cock in her drink,” I grinned. “Did you go out with him?”
London scrunched up her nose. On the other side of the fire, Rory laughed.
“She’s already heard this,” London explained. “But, yeah, we went out. And he went outside twice during dinner to call his mom.”
Rory snorted again. “That’s not all. Just wait for it. It gets better.”
“On the way home, we had to stop by her apartment,” London further explained. “And then Simon… excuse me, Bartender Boy came out and asked me if I could take an Uber home because his mom had a cold and he needed to stay with her, so he couldn’t drive me.”
Heather and I burst into laughter.
“Wait,” I said between choking sobs. “He had you wait in the car while he went in to see her?”
“Yep,” she said dryly.
“Let me get this straight… and then he told you he couldn’t drive you home.”
“That’s about the story in a nutshell.”
I pressed my palm against my mouth to stop the giggles, but it did no good. All of us laughed like crazy women, Starlet looking at us in confusion.
Rory poured wine into the glasses I’d brought out. “It just goes to show a good man is hard to find.”
A good man is hard to find. My heart lurched, her statement reminding me of the Flannery O’Connor story… which reminded me of Flannery’s biggest fan, Seth.
“What?” Heather asked me.
“Huh?”
“You sighed about something.”
London passed me a glass of wine. “Trouble in paradise?”
I took a long sip of the dry white. “Maybe… I don’t know.”
“Spill.”
“Seth’s dad is in town again tonight, and I get the feeling he’s hiding something.”
“This again?” Heather asked.
“Yeah, but I really don’t think I’m imagining it.”
“Whatever happened to space?”
“I know, I know…”
“Well, everyone has a right to their secrets,” Rory argued.
“Yeah, but this feels like it’s something big.” I stared into the flames. “When Seth talks about his dad, or when I ask about their relationship, something happens to him. He shuts down.” I shook my head, trying to make sense of it as all the clues flew away.
“Then let him,” Heather said. “I’m sorry if this sounds harsh, but just let him do that.”
“What?” London squealed. “You’re seriously going to tell her to not be there for him?”
“I’m not saying that. I’m saying give him his space. If he has something to work out with his dad, then let him work it out. That’s probably what they’re doing right now.”
London looked like she wanted to retaliate, but Rory interrupted. “Did anyone bring the marshmallows?”
“Right here.” Heather pulled them out of her bag. “What are we going to put them on? Do we have any of those skewer things?”
“Sticks,” London said.
Heather recoiled. “From a tree? No way!”
I met Rory’s eyes and suppressed a laugh.
“No,” Heather said. “Quinn, don’t you have the things they sell at the grocery store? I saw them just today. They’re made for marshmallows.”
“Sticks,” London said again.
“Yeah,” Heather countered. “Sticks that Starlet has peed on and birds have pooped on.”
“I doubt it.”
“Really? Think about how long those sticks have been sitting in the yard.”
“I’d rather use a stick that might have dog pee on it than embarrass myself. I’d look like an addicted consumer going out and buying some piece of metal made to roast marshmallows on. So, yeah, I’m gonna take my chances.”
Heather’s face crumpled in the way that signaled she was about to get pissed off. Glaring at London, she opened her mouth again, but a banging noise from somewhere semi-close interrupted her.
“What was that?” Heather asked, looking over her shoulder at the dark yard.
“Vampires,” London immediately teased. “They were offended by your marshmallow comments.”
“Stop it,” she snapped, her eyes wide. “That’s not funny.”
The rest of us laughed. For some reason, Heather possessed an all too real fear of bloodsucking ghouls that didn’t even exist.
Another banging permeated the air, distinct between the sounds of our laughter and the traffic down the street.
“Stop.” I held up my hand for silence. “Hold on. That sounded really close.”
The chuckles died out, and we cocked our heads to listen. Starlet growled and jumped onto the chair next to Heather. She put her arm around the tiny dog and pulled her in tight.
More banging, this time closer.
“Is someone knocking?” Rory asked.
“Yeah.” I stood quickly with a sigh, the tension that had gathered in my chest melting away. “Someone’s at the front door. I’ll be right back.”
“Wait a second. I’m coming with you.” Rory stood too.
“Someone stay here!” Heather nearly cried.
Rory and I let ourselves in through the back door. The knocking at the front of the house grew louder and more hurried. Whoever wanted inside was desperate. My heartbeat sped up. Who would knock in such a way? The police?
Maybe something had gone wrong, someone had gotten hurt. That would be the only reason the police would show up at my house.
Seth.
At the front door, Rory put her hand on my arm. “Wait. Don’t open it yet. See who it is first.”
“Who is it?” I asked, raising my voice.
“It’s me,” came Seth’s thick voice.
My heart lurched out of my throat, and I lunged for the door. Something was horribly wrong. I could tell from those two little words. They were thick, slurred. Undoing the deadbolt, I nearly ripped the hinges off pulling the knob.
Seth leaned against the door frame, one arm propped above him. He gazed passively at Rory and me, his eyes squinting against the sudden light.
“Seth!” I gasped. “What’s wrong?”
Hesitatingly, he nodded.
“Why were you knocking like that?” I demanded.
A second later, I noticed the smell. Seth reeked of alcohol. If I had to guess, a mixture of beer and tequila. I resisted the urge to press my hand against my nose and mouth.
Rory made a slightly disgusted noise. Thanks to her bartending job, she saw people in this state all the time and tended to have a low tolerance for it outside of work.
“Come inside,” I told Seth as I slid under his shoulder and wrapped my arm around his waist, pulling him over the threshold.
I led him to the couch, where he willingly laid down.
“I’ll go get some water,” Rory said, hurrying from the room.
I sat down as close to Seth as I dared, watching him intently as his eyes intermittently lowered and shut.
“Did you drive here?” I asked him.
He didn’t answer.
I sucked in a sharp breath. Shit, shit, shit. Anyone with half a brain could see Seth wasn’t in the proper state to operate a vehicle. If he’d driven to my house, it was a miracle that he’d even made it alive.
“Seth?” I questioned.
He still didn’t answer. He moved a little bit, stretching his legs out, so at least he was alive.
Hopefully, he didn’t have alcohol poisoning. I knew CPR and how to bandage a wound, but I didn’t know shit about what to do if someone drank themselves to within an inch of their lives.
Rory came back with not only a glass of water but some crackers and a bowl — just in case things got messy. A true late night bartender, she set everything down on the coffee table and darted her eyes toward me. “I’ll go let London and Heather know what’s up.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
As soon as she left again, Seth sat up.
“Are you okay?” I asked, reaching my hand toward him. I didn’t touch him, afraid that physical contact might somehow send him into an even worse state.
“I didn’t drive,” he said, chewing the words like cotton balls. “I didn’t drive.”
I sighed in relief. “Good.”
“I took a taxi.”
“Are you drunk?” The question felt rhetorical. Clearly, he was drunk.
“Probably,” Seth said, falling back against the couch and letting his head drop to the side.
Are you like this a lot? Now wasn’t the time to ask that question. Tomorrow, maybe, but not now.
I tried to remember how many drinks he usually had in one evening while in my presence. Certainly never more than three, and sometimes none, even when I was drinking.
I picked up the glass of water. “Here, drink some of this.”
He took a couple sips then pulled away. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” A bit of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. I tentatively reached over and brushed it to the side.
“I fucked up.”
“Everyone drinks too much sometimes. It can happen to anyone.”
Seth grunted.
“What happened? Where’s your dad?”
Seth just shook his head and closed his eyes. The talking we’d done seemed to have exhausted him. It was time for me to give up. Getting answers out of him about his dad while he was in a sober state was one thing. Attempting it while he was drunk would be like pulling teeth.
Hushed voices came from the kitchen.
“Lay down,” I told Seth. “I’ll be nearby if you need me.”
He obeyed, turning onto his side and nestling between the throw cushions. He closed his eyes, and I pulled his shoes off for him. By the time I stood and tip-toed from the room, he was asleep.
My friends were back out by the fire, and I walked outside, the cool night air welcome on my face.
“What’s going on?” Heather asked.
“Yeah,” London intoned. “Which vamp got him? Was it the Twilight vampire or an Anne Rice one?”
“Don’t forget about True Blood,” Rory said.
“Ooh,” London cooed. “Yeah! I hope it was Alexander Skarsgard. Maybe he felt Seth up a little bit before doing the deed.”
I took my seat, not able to join in the joking.
“Stop!” Heather snapped at the two of them. “This is serious. What’s going on? Why is he drunk?”
“I don’t know,” I said flatly, the glass of wine I’d left behind now not appealing.
“He didn’t say anything?”
“Not enough for me to figure out what happened. He did tell me he took a taxi here, though, so that’s good news. At least we know he didn’t kill anyone on his way over.”
“Did he say anything about his dad?”
I chewed on my lip. “No. I asked him where his dad was and he didn’t answer.” I sighed and looked at the quiet house. “This is too much. If his dad is the reason he got drunk tonight I can’t ignore it.”
Heather pursed her lips. “Yeah, I guess you can’t after all.”
The conversation turned to more lighthearted things, like HBO and plans for Halloween, but there was an underlying current of unease.
The girls didn’t stay much longer, the original, carefree mood of the night not able to hold up with the unconscious man on the couch. By the time I locked the front door behind them and crept into the living room to check on Seth, I was beat.
He laid still, on his side, his arms pressed against his chest. I put my hand near his mouth to check for breathing. Only when I felt his exhale against my skin did I relax. I couldn’t tear myself away from watching him. Finally, taking a blanket from the back of one of the chairs, I laid it across him and tucked it in on the sides, then turned on the floor lamp in the hall so he’d have some light in case he woke up. He probably didn’t have alcohol poisoning, but instead was just headed for a killer hangover.
Starlet jumped onto the couch and turned around in a circle before settling down against Seth’s legs.
“Come on, girl,” I whispered, patting my thigh.
Her dark eyes stared mournfully back at me. She didn’t even lift her head.
“Bed,” I told her. “Come on. It’s time to go to bed.”
Still, she didn’t move.
I sighed. She was attached. It was official. Even my best friend couldn’t tear herself away from Seth.
“I get it,” I whispered to her, then climbed the stairs for bed.