Keep tuscany, p.21
Keep Tuscany, page 21
There’s dust on the drive and the wisteria hanging over the entrance jostles in the wake of his red car arriving over the small ridge. My whole body smiles and I stand up, trying not to clap and squeal that Colt is coming to pick me up so we can go back to the beginning.
He jumps out and the girls wave to me from the back seat. He comes around the front of the car, eyes sparkling, and my breath is a thing of history. It’s gone. I’m alight and awash with too much joy. I can’t contain it, and his smile tells me he feels the same. He runs a finger lightly over the top of my hand as he grabs my bag, making my breath hitch. He looks up at me and says in a low raspy whisper to just me.
“Me too. Breath gone. You look so fucking beautiful, and I want to touch you so badly. Hold you and kiss you and let the world slide away but—” as if on cue Daisy beeps the horn.
I finish his thought, “…But the world awaits you and it’s right here with us so we should probably go.”
I slide into the passenger seat and hand back a batch of lemon bars to Daisy.
“Seriously? More lemons?”
“Look around. What am I supposed to do, just let them rot?” I can’t do that. I can’t be that wasteful and as long as the grove is under my care I’ll figure out how to take care of all of them. “I do have sixty bottles of limoncello going and I’m not even sure I like limoncello anymore. Perhaps I can sell it to tourists at the market. There’s my second act, no more teaching. I’m selling lemon hooch.”
Colt laughs as he gets into the car.
Sloane stuffs her face with a lemon bar while her sister tsks. I turn back and Sloane muffles a mouth full. “Thanks. You’re a real one.” I grin not knowing what that’s supposed to mean. Currently, she’s dressed with a flower headband around her forehead like a throwback to the hippie era but pulling it off. She puts her feet up on the window and leans over toward her sister.
Daisy shoves at her sister and complains, “Ew. Dad. Get her on her own side.” Colt gets into the car.
“This is how we behave around company? Knock it off.”
“Dad, how long?” Daisy asks.
“You know the car isn’t even on yet. But if you ask me again, we’ll drive straight through.”
Daisy protests. “No! The good pizza place is at our normal stop. And it’s in France.”
“Oh, so you do know how long the trip is.” Colt snarks at Daisy.
Sloane sits up and leans between the seats and says to me, “We like to do the long part on day one. Get up early and get there by lunch.”
“Have you been there a lot?”
Daisy adds, “Since we were babies. But only one road trip so far, but Liliana always has the good stuff all ready for us when we get there.”
“Liliana?”
Colt turns onto the road. “Hayden’s mom.”
“She’s like a grandmother that hugs when no one is watching,” Daisy says and it breaks my heart. Hopefully, Colton’s parents will bypass the photo op someday.
Sloane adds, “Mom’s mom will hug us without a camera around but sometimes it feels like she’s doing it because she’s supposed to.”
She shrugs and I lean back through the seats to cover up the fact that I want to touch Colton. I want to reassure him even though we’re not talking about anything until after this trip. Push it down, Maggie. Answers, questions and consequences after Paris. I whisper, “AQC.”
He whispers it back and turns on the radio.
Sloane sits crisscross apple sauce on the seat and I ask. “And what’s on this best pizza in France? You know we live in Italy?” My hand drifts to his thigh, and he makes a delicious sucking noise through his teeth.
Daisy answers, “Nothing if she knows what’s good for her.”
“Dais, explain to me this hostility. You know like you do with cooking. Lay it out so I can learn,” I ask. His hand covers mine. My blood blooms in a burst of bright pink and yellow of a springtime meadow. I’m still shoved between the front seats, looking at the two of them and hiding our touches.
Daisy wraps her arms around her middle. “She’s so annoying.”
I glance at Sloane and then back to Daisy. “That’s her job. She’s the little sister. She’s there to remind you of how annoying you were at that age.” I squeeze her knee as his hand slides to my knee. I’m all bunnies hopping in a verdant field and water sparkling in morning sunshine. His touch, his light caress is all the missing pieces of me that were lost under the table when someone higher up than me was putting my puzzle together.
Daisy rolls her eyes and puts her earbuds back in.
Sloane tosses up a peace sign. “I’m all about love, peace and harmony. I don’t know what you’re saying, Daisy. Just let it all float by.”
Daisy points to her sister. “See.” I chuckle a little, knowing Daisy didn’t turn on her earbuds.
“How would you want to resolve this?” I ask her.
Daisy thinks about it. “It’s fine now.” I nod and there’s a slight bit of pressure instead of the gentle caresses he’s been drawing on my skin. Suddenly the secret touches of this man become something else. I move slowly back into my seat, so he has time to remove his hand to make sure the girls don’t see. I sink into my seat, glancing over at him, and he adjusts his khaki shorts. I lick my lips so he can see me out of his peripheral vision.
“Stop it,” he whispers.
And I dig down into my bag on the floor for my book but on the way to sitting back up I catch his look. “Not sure I can.”
The pizza was fantastic. The cranky teenager and her ‘love the one you’re with’ sidekick were not. They were so not. They constantly bicker, and I’m not their teacher or their elder in any way so I got nothing. Colt had to keep interjecting and finally send Daisy back to the hotel room so Sloane could finish eating. I learned she only likes pizza with mushrooms. She’s reading the Electric Kool Aid Acid test because she thought it was about the history of Kool Aid.
Colt was horrified. I was impressed. I recited the first stanzas of the poem Howl by Alan Ginsberg to her. Something I was forced to memorize in college. She was duly impressed. I never loved the poem or truly understood it, I just like the musicality of it. I didn’t want to pick Robert Frost like everyone else, so I randomly picked it. But reciting it now at thirty-two hits differently than eighteen.
Sloane’s telling Colt about some song and my mind drifts to all the things that can be reexamined years after their first exploration. I wonder if time is messing with me so I can make sense of the pretzel logic of everything.
And then I grin at the poem’s line, “listening to the terror in the walls.” I sigh and lean my head against the window while watching some light rain spatter around this little place in Lyon. A foot nudges mine as Sloane sits back and smacks her stomach.
“Good grub. I tell you.”
He reaches out to her with his foot pressed against mine. “You ready? Slygirl? Let’s get some sleep.” There’s a hitch in her breath and she blows out and it’s shaky. It’s a slim second and her face changes. She gets up and he pulls her onto his lap and holds her. A well-practiced routine or maybe he’s just that intuitive with his daughter. She snuggles into him, and my soul cracks open a little bit more. Seeing him tease her then hold her. She’s clutching him. He’s cooing into her ear. “Have your moment. Feel it, little Sly.”
Then I hear a little bit of sniffling, and I feel as if I’m intruding. I pull away, and he looks at me over the head of his eight-year-old. He tries to pull me back. I shake him off and walk towards the exit to get to the hotel.
In a small teary voice, I hear her say, “Maggie?”
I turn and see her little streaks down her face. Her amber eyes so much the color of his. Both sets looking at me and imploring me to stay. I turn.
“What is it, sweet Sloane?”
She wipes her face with the back of her hand. “Sometimes I have a moment. Doesn’t make any sense because I was having a good time. But suddenly, it will hit me she should be here.”
I cover my heart flustered and embarrassed at my intrusion. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry.” I turn to walk out and Converse low tops scramble after me. She grabs my elbow.
“No. It’s fine. I just get sad sometimes, and Daddy says I have to feel it. Unlike my sister, who likes to push it down.”
I stutter and stammer in my reply. “Don’t push it down. I’m intruding. Oh. I don’t know. Sorry. I’ll just go to sleep. You can go to sleep. Be with your Daddy. He’s a pretty great guy and a good one to talk to. This place was a great suggestion. It was the best pizza, but I have had one other one in Phoenix of all places. That was really good and I think about it all the time.” I take a breath, there a strong hand on my shoulder, and a hand pushing my hair back.
“Focus, Mags,” he says with that sweet tone.
I grin at him. “Sloane. I’m sorry to intrude.”
She shrugs and takes my hand. “It’s fine. I’m allowed to miss her and enjoy pizza. And you can be here too. Mommy always said there can never be too much love or people to share it with. And I love this pizza.”
Colt grins and removes his hand from me, and I feel every ripple of air between us. I turn back to Sloane.
“I saw a patisserie when we walked here. What are your thoughts on pastry?”
Colt answers, “We’re a pro pastry household.” His smile curls up at the corners, and he looks a bit like he did in Paris ages ago.
“Groovy, man,” Sloane says, “And if we can find that elephant ear thing for my crabby sister, I think that might mellow her out.” I laugh and Sloane doesn’t drop my hand as she yanks me to the door. Colt’s hand on my back guiding me into some unknown terrain. He’s him but so much of him is in them now. It’s hard not to love him, and it’s harder every day not to love them. Even when I didn’t know who Daisy was, there was like a shimmery piece of her I was drawn to like a mongoose to a wall. Is that even a thing? But I was drawn to Daisy and now I know it was because of him.
“Pastry is on me but one condition. You have to tell me a favorite story about your mom. Not a sad one but one that’s stupid or silly,” I say. Her face lights up and there’s a light finger drawing a line down the back of my arm. I look to the right and see Colt grinning a sweet sad smile.
“She loved pillows. Like a lot….”
This will be the moment I point to when I realized I was falling in love with his girls. And the moment I’ve set myself up for quite the heartbreak, because it’s not just him anymore, they have the power to break me too. I’m still not trusting any of this.
41
colt
The girls are settled and snoring as I sit down on the edge of my bed, wishing she were here with me. This is fucking hard. I can’t ditch them. I thought this would all be cool to do together. My ‘friend’ Maggie and the girls are going to see our family, and all I want is Maggie here. Maggie under me. I want to slide into her perfect body and share that intimacy again. I also really want to get laid. I drove most of the eight hours today with a raging boner with my children in the backseat. Every time I innocently touched her, my skin would flame. I saw her blush and that eyebrow twitch of worry.
With each brush of contact, the feelings and lust grow more intense. It’s not like I can masturbate right now with my children a foot away from me. I start listing Canadian provinces and the twenty Italian regions. By the time I get to listing the Paris neighborhoods and tourist highlights, my dick is finally deflating.
I slide under the covers. I’ve slept alone for longer than I can remember. Years ago we told the girls I snored, so I took up residence in our guest room. Then when she got sick, it was easy to say she needed space. I’d go watch TV with her in our bedroom. Both of us craving connection, companionship even if it was hollow and rote. But that was all that went on there.
The girls would climb into bed with one of us. Sloane chose me over her mom on those nights when she needed more comfort. She’s more like me than Daisy. I understand her. I pull a pillow to myself and cradle it in my arms. My phone flashes.
Maggie: I hate to bother you. Are you up?
Colt: Never a bother. What’s up?
Maggie: There’s a leak in my room.
Colt: Be right there.
I leap up and yank on my pajama shirt. Daisy sits up, and I whisper, “Be right back. Maggie’s room has a leak.”
Sloane mumbles into her pillow, “We’re fine. You do you.”
When Maggie opens the door, she’s soaked. Hair dripping and pasted to her face with smeared mascara and some kind of luminescent slime on her cheeks.
Her wet button-down pajama shirt is clinging to her, and I have to look away as the dark outline of her nipples peak. Shit. Her little matching sleep shorts are high enough I could easily get to the promised land in a second. I grip the edges of the door frame, and she is oblivious to the wanton fantasy she’s creating. Wow. That’s a lot. Someday I’m fucking her while she’s wet in these clothes.
“The sink.” Her voice is a bit crumbly.
I don’t move. She cocks her head and sees my eyes drift to her peaked wet nipples. She looks up at me with her eyes wide open.
“Colt!”
“You can’t possibly deny me right now.” I lean in and pull her lush body to mine, and as I’m about to reach for the honey inside those tiny sleep shorts, there’s a tug on the back of my shirt. I put my arms up like I’m being held up, and she exhales a sexy sigh while biting her lip. Fuck me, that’s sexy and my children are here.
“Dad. What’s going on?” I turn my head but not my body, since my pajamas are hiding nothing.
Maggie bends over and peeks out from under my crooked arm. “My sink is exploding and they’re sending a plumber, but I’m super wet.” On the word wet, she glances up at me from under those long, luscious eyelashes, and I quietly groan. She smiles slightly.
“Okay,” I say, pushing past Maggie and scooping up her suitcase and most definitely not looking at her ass. “Daisy, take Maggie to our room to clean up.”
“Come on,” Daisy says as she pulls her along and Maggie gives me one last glance and her eyes are dark and hooded but her crooked smile says it all. This is what it is.
The sink is pouring out water, and I collect her things from the bathroom and her clothes. I pick up a pink lacy thong and groan. Not helping the engorged cock situation. As much as I want to keep them I tuck them away in her suitcase. I’m going to be the good guy. It’s what I do. But I am thinking very bad thoughts. I can be both.
“The capital of Alabama is Montgomery,” I say out loud. Then I reach into her suitcase, grab the thong, and bring it to my nose. Fuck. My body surges with that familiar and perfect mix of her. Wildflowers and lust. I shove the panties into her bag, smack my dick like I’m scolding it, tuck it into my waistband and begin my geography class again. “Capital of Vermont is Montpelier”
I took a tour of the lobby with her luggage before eventually going back to my room. Resolve back in place, full on Daddy mode. Shit. Not that. I mean Father mode. I open the door quietly, seeing the sleeping arrangements have been rearranged. I bend down to kiss a sleeping Daisy on her forehead.
Then I change my damp shirt and move to my bed, pushing Sloane, the bed hog, over to her side. I can’t help myself. Before I slide into my own bed one foot from Maggie, I brush my lips over her forehead every so lightly. As if I’m sprinkling powdered sugar on a zeppole. Just a dusting of emotion to savor while she sleeps. She showered and smells clean with a touch of rosemary and history. I ball my fists and release them for a moment simply to get over the crash of love I feel for her.
It’s too soon for so many damn reasons but if we take it slow, we might navigate Gemma’s memory, the girls, and some weird kind of future together. I don’t know what any of that looks like, but I sure as hell want it to smell like this. I inhale her scent again, then crawl under the covers before turning to face her. Her eyes pop open, and the sweet smile on her face lights up this inky black room.
She reaches her hand out. I meet her between the beds, entwining my fingers in hers. The thrill of touching her has never abated. Not in fourteen fucking years. Each time feels like that impulsive moment I pulled her on my lap in room 666.
I can just make out her mouth, saying goodnight. I whisper back, “Night, Meerkat.” She chuckles a little, and then we both make sure our bedmates don’t wake up. I clasp her tightly and then pull my arm slowly back.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For including me.” I reach out my hand again, and she takes it.
I want to say, ‘Always’, and ‘I’ll never let you out of my life again, please stay with me you most gorgeous and perfect creature.’ Instead, I say, “You’re welcome.” And retreat to my side of the room. Sloane kicks me and sputters, “Don’t take the brown kind.” And I stifle a laugh, knowing she must have watched the Woodstock movie again. Then I hear Maggie giggle, and there’s no way I can survive giving her up again.
42
maggie
The girls have a whole plan about how to reveal me. I’m bouncing in my seat the entire four-hour drive. I mean I had way too much coffee, and the bonus chai latte that Daisy didn’t like. But also, I get to see my friends. I haven’t seen them since Mak and Tony got married a year ago. And I haven’t seen Mak specifically in almost seven months, which is super weird for us. We’ve never gone that long. But after seeing Kevin getting his balls pickled, I went a little off the rails and needed to recalibrate. I can’t say I’m there yet, but I’m so excited to see her. Lizzie, Hayden, Mak, Tony are already my friends. I met Robbie and Claire at Mak’s wedding and danced with them a lot that night. They’re cool. Law, the youngest brother, met me in Vegas but not sure he’ll remember. Super drunk.
