Chapter Twenty-Two
Porter and I walked hand-in-hand together toward the kitchen once we were both ready for the day. More like I limped, he walked. I promised him I would use my crutches later, but for now I wanted to enjoy the goofy grins we kept exchanging as we headed toward the smell of something wonderful without the metal poles getting in our way. This morning we felt like a couple getting ready together. He shaved while I fixed my hair, and I applied mascara while he styled his hair. We talked about his place in Tahoe while he wrapped my foot. His condo sounded nice, with two fireplaces, including one in his bedroom. He might have bragged about the hot tub on his deck a time or two. But what I got most out of the conversation was that he liked his life there. It wasn’t the right time to ask him what that meant for us. I wasn’t sure there was an us. But it felt like us holding hands.
We were the last ones to arrive in the kitchen. Beau sat at the kitchen table trying to down some green drink. He looked more like he wanted to chuck it across the room. The wary look he gave his bran muffin said he’d like to use it for batting practice as well. Charlotte fussed over her display board, rearranging pictures and coloring in the title of her project she had drawn in a pretty bubble script.
I couldn’t help but grin at all the pictures of Porter’s luscious lips in varying shades.
Charlotte was quick to Porter once she realized we were there. She took him by the hand and led him toward the table. “I want to take one more picture of you. I thought I should show what my test subject really looks like.”
Porter shook his head, not sold on the deal. “I’d like to remain anonymous.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “I won’t use your name.”
“That wasn’t the kind of anonymous I was referring to.”
She tsked. “Come on, this is for science.” Charlotte looked to me for help. “Wouldn’t it be good to show what he normally looks like?”
Porter’s eyes tried to plead his case to me.
I looked between brother and sister. “Well . . . it is a good thought to do a before picture.” Though this was well after. Not like her teacher would know.
“See,” Charlotte said as if that settled the matter. “Holland agrees with me.”
“What if I don’t care what Holland thinks?” There was nothing but levity to his voice.
Natalie entered the fray and set a platter of waffles and bacon on the table to the dismay of her husband before patting Porter on the cheek. “We all know that’s not true.”
Poor Mr. Clairborne was salivating at the temptation his wife placed in front of him. He reached for one piece of bacon only to have his wife smack it right out of his hand.
“Woman,” he growled, “one piece of bacon isn’t going to kill me.”
Natalie ruffled his hair before kissing his head. “I’m not willing to take that chance.”
Mr. Clairborne’s demeanor softened immediately. He even smacked her butt as she walked away. That caused both Charlotte and Porter to grimace.
I smiled to myself, taking it all in. All my life I wanted something like this, imperfect as it was. Tension still lingered between Porter and his dad, but there was no yelling or ugly words being thrown around. Certainly no one was threatening physical violence or committing it. It felt safe.
Even watching Porter and Charlotte squabble, I knew it was innocent. I always wondered what it was like to have siblings. But it was a good thing neither my parents nor my aunt and uncle had any more children. My aunt and uncle hadn’t even wanted to take me in. I think my Uncle Stan only did so out of guilt and because my grandmother would’ve wanted him to. That and the check they got from the state each month.
Those horrible thoughts dissipated with a hug from Natalie. “Honey, where are your crutches? You need to be off your foot.” She took my hand and led me to the table. “Sit. I’ll bring you some juice, or would you rather have coffee?”
“Juice is great but—”
“I know you can get it yourself.” She didn’t even give me the chance; she headed straight to the kitchen.
“Good morning, Holland.” Mr. Clairborne was still eyeing the bacon.
“Good morning. How are you?” I was surprised at how not nervous I was around Mr. Clairborne.
He ripped a chunk off his bran muffin. “I’d be better if I didn’t have to eat sandpaper for breakfast. But other than that,” he glanced in his children’s direction, “life is treating me well. How about you? I hope you are enjoying your stay.”
“I am. Thank you very much for allowing me to stay and for all your hospitality.”
He admired Charlotte’s science project. “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you. Looks like an A+ project right there.”
“Charlotte and Porter did most of the work. I only supervised and laughed when called for.”
That got Porter’s attention. “Hey now.” He escaped from the clutches of Charlotte’s camera and came and sat next to me. I wasn’t the only person Porter paid attention to. “Good morning, Dad.” It was stiff, but more cordial than it was last night.
Mr. Clairborne seemed to be of the same mind; his words came out a little kinder as well. “Looks like you had a long night last night.” He nodded toward the science project.
“It was worth it.” Porter smiled at Charlotte, who was more interested in how her project looked rather than the content.
Mr. Clairborne nodded as if he didn’t know what else to say. That was a little heartbreaking. But I was happy to see Porter make the extra effort. “I was wondering if you had some time this afternoon. I’d like to discuss something with you.” He was trying to act sly since Natalie was returning with my juice.
“I could move some things around.”
“My last conference call should be over around three. Would that work for you?”
“I’ll make it work.” Mr. Clairborne made sure to keep eye contact with Porter.
Natalie set the tall glass of orange juice in front of me. I swore it looked as if she was tearing up as she looked between the two men in her life.
“Thank you,” I said to Natalie while my head ping-ponged between Mr. Clairborne and Porter. They obviously wanted things to be different, but there was an awkwardness that existed between them.
“Great,” Porter responded. “I’ll meet you in your office at 3:15.”
Mr. Clairborne sat down his green concoction, much of it remained in the glass. “I look forward to it.” From the sounds of it, I think he did.
“Natalie,” Porter addressed his mom.
I could see the heartbreak in Natalie’s eyes when Porter used her first name. She recovered quickly from the slight cringe and squeezed Mr. Clairborne’s shoulder. I’d never known Porter to call her mom. I never asked him why he didn’t. Perhaps it was time to.
“Would you have time to take Holland shopping? She’s helping me with a little project I’m working on.”
His request erased any signs of sadness away. She gave me a wide smile. “I’d love to. We can make a day of it and do lunch.”
I think for the first time ever in my life I was looking forward to shopping. Natalie was like the white blood cells called macrophages. They, like her, were a healer of wounds. When I was around her, I found myself feeling, for lack of a better term, loved. Not only that, but I wanted to love in return. I almost felt brave enough in her presence to follow through with it.
She brushed her hand across my hair. “I have the pool guy coming in about thirty minutes. Once he is done, we can leave.”
I nodded my head. “Okay.” Not like I had anywhere to be. Or anything to do, thanks to Sharon. I still couldn’t believe that email she sent.
“Thanks.” Porter grabbed a piece of bacon and poured himself a cup of coffee, which ended up being to-go. He gave me what some of my old roommates referred to as a “church” kiss—a simple peck on the lips. “I have a lot of work to do, but I will see you later.”
That caught Charlotte’s attention. She narrowed her eyes at both of us. “Are you two really a thing again?”
By the looks of Natalie and Mr. Clairborne, they were wondering the same thing.
It was a good thing Porter answered, because I had no idea what to say. Porter grinned at me before addressing his family. “We’re working on it.”
I liked that answer.