Beyond Eighteen (11 page)

“
You’re right, my choice,”
she answered as she let go of me and snatched my grey hoodie and
slipped it on. She caught me smiling while I watched
her.

“
I can’t very well go down
there looking like this,” she said as she pointed to her nipples,
rock hard, protruding through her thin top.

“
Well, I have to,” I
groaned as I pointed down. She smiled back. “Let’s just go down
there and get through dinner as fast as possible, okay? No
dessert,” I bargained.

“
No berry pie?” she teased
as she slipped her fingers behind the buttons on my fly. I felt the
heat of her hands weigh against my erection as she pulled me
closer.

“
That might be
negotiable,” I teased as I kissed her on the tip of her nose and
pulled her out into the hall. “Listen, if the conversation at the
table gets too heated, we’re out of there. Okay?” I made sure she
looked at me.

“
We’ll just get up and
leave?” she questioned, unsure of what she’d just heard. Her
stunning blue eyes dropped from mine, her shoulders slumped, and
her body language told me that she wasn’t comfortable with my
suggestion.

I leaned down, swayed into her, and gave her
my best pouty lip ever. Her eyes narrowed and a smirk came across
her face before she caved and kissed me. I pushed my hands to
either side of her face and kissed her like she was the best berry
pie I’d ever tasted.

“
Trust me,” I
growled.

“
I’ve always trusted you,”
she whispered.

“
Good,” I answered before
heading downstairs, Wilson in tow.

When we came around the corner into the
kitchen Dan was helping Camille carry food out to the table. Wilson
rushed past me and took the salad from the counter and followed
them. I watched her fit right into my family just like she had
since the first day she met them. She was everything I’d ever
wanted. I grabbed the platter of blackened sea bass and traipsed
behind them.

“
Oh, Maxi, thank you
sweetheart, just set it there in the middle,” Mom said as she gave
me her “good job” rub across my back.

Before I knew it everyone was sitting down
at the table. It was strangest thing—Camille and Dan sat in their
normal spots across from Calvin and me. Wilson took the spot
between my mom and me. Nobody sat at the head of the table. Nothing
was said; no action was set into motion to acknowledge the vacancy
that was so obvious in our lives. Maybe none of us wanted to bring
attention to the fact that this was our first family dinner
together since Dad had died.

I watched Mom fall into the routine she’d
been a master at for my whole life. But this time Dad wasn’t there
to start the chain of dishing up first and passing it on. We sat
there like a bunch of lost soldiers waiting for their commander to
tell them what to do. The silence screamed how raw our loss still
was.

“
Here, Nancy, why don’t
you start?” Dan broke the silence, picking up a basket of rolls and
holding it out to her.

She managed a quivering smile as she nodded
her head and took the basket.

“
I remember when your
father got this basket from one of our favorite restaurants in New
York. I never liked it, but didn’t have the heart to tell him,” she
said amiably as she set the chunky, loosely braided wooden basket
on her plate and unfolded the peach cloth that covered the rolls.
Her hands, pale and thin, moved like they always had any time
before. But this time it was different; suddenly I noticed how
vulnerable she was. She continued like we had asked her for her
side of the story. “God, every time we were in New York, we’d have
to make a special trip into little Italy and have dinner at
Pellegrino’s. This one night, your father was being…well, your
father. We were being impish, and I dared him to take the basket.
Just tuck it under his arm and walk out with it.” She smiled, her
eyes glazed a little damp with her memories.

“
Oh, my God! Did he do
it?” Camille gasped.

Mom chuckled. Tears escaped the ledges of
her eyelids as she nodded, yes.

“
Dad stole that basket
from Pellegrino’s?” I asked. Funny, I never thought my dad would
steal anything. He was such a stickler about stealing. We would
have had our asses whipped if we were found stealing anything…and I
mean any little thing.

“
Well, that’s a shock. I
never thought Dad had the balls to steal something,” Calvin added
in a nervous laugh. Mom shot him a look before she turned back and
finished the story.

“
Well, actually, come to
find out, he never stole it. While I went to the ladies’ room, your
father paid the waiter for the basket. I’ll never forget how brazen
he was, though, when he shoved the basket under his arm, took my
hand, and walked right out of the restaurant. I couldn’t believe
it.”

“
That’s sounds just like
him,” Camille said as she picked up the salad and dished herself
some.

“
Remember the time Dad
convinced Calvin he was found under a rock?” I said to Camille,
laughing.

“
Oh my God, that’s right.
He told me that he traded his watch and fifty cents to a band of
gypsies for me,” Camille blurted out as she passed the salad to
Dan.

I looked over at Wilson. She was comfortably
watching our family interact, her eyes glossy with tears. Her
laughter was my home. Somehow I was no longer worried about the
news Dan had tucked away. It didn’t matter what was going to happen
tomorrow; tonight was reserved for good-humored memories of our
father. I pressed my lips to the side of her head and inhaled her
essence.

“
I love you,” I
whispered.

“
Me too,” she
said.

Calvin’s voice roared behind his laugh.
“Yeah, well, that wasn’t funny; I’m still going to therapy over
that one.”

“
And that’s a big bill,
let me tell you…” Mom teased.

“
Well, Daddy used to say
that Max was delivered next day air, by the UPS man. Or was it that
you
belonged
to
the UPS man?” Camille snorted.

“
Oh, that’s just because I
dated a guy who worked for the post office before I met your
father,” Mom interceded before she grabbed Wilson’s hand. “Oh,
dear, I hope these hooligans aren’t scaring you away from our
family.”

Everyone at the table was laughing, and
suddenly took a collective breath, as if it was planned.

“
No. I feel right at
home,” Wilson sighed.

Mom smiled at her before nodding. Her brown
hair, that always framed her face perfectly, swished forward before
she looked over at me. “She’s a keeper, Maxi.”

“
I know,” I
answered.

Then the table was quiet and the only thing
we heard was the clinking of forks and knives against the plates.
Calvin was humming as he ate, and Dan smacked his lips as he chewed
his food. We were home. As home as we could be without my dad.

“
Nancy, how did you and
Frank meet?” Wilson asked just above a whisper.

I looked up from my plate at my mom. All of
us at the table stopped eating.

Mom put down her fork, pulled the white
cloth napkin from her lap and stared at the chair my father was
supposed to occupy for dinner.

“
Well, Frank and I met in
college. He was the T.A. for Professor Hall, my Algebra instructor.
It was my first year at Georgetown. I’ll never forget that day: I
was running late for class, I can’t remember why. Frank was
instructed to take over the class until Professor Hall got there.
Oh, heavens, there must have been seventy five to a hundred people
shuffling into the room at once. My foot caught the threshold of
the door and I stumbled forward and flew right into his arms. Oh,
God, our eyes met, he smiled, and I melted. From that day forward I
sat in the front row because at least two days a week Frank would
take over the class. Your dad says the moment I landed in his arms
he knew I was going to be there for the rest of my
life.”

Mom stopped telling the story, choked by the
memories of how she fell in love with Dad. Her chin reflected her
battle to keep from losing it; her eyes squeezed shut to hold back
her tears. It took a minute for her to compose herself enough to
continue the story.

“
He always told me he
knew, that very first day, I was going to be his bride.” Tears
soaked her cheeks as the battle was lost. She dabbed her face with
her napkin and struggled to continue without sobbing. Wilson
reached over and touched my mom’s arm. She smiled and laid her hand
on top of Wilson’s.

“
Ha, right, little did he
know, I wasn’t that easy to get. He’d ask me out; I’d always make
up excuses. You know, I had to wash my hair, had homework,
girlfriend drama, anything that kept him just far enough away to
stay interested. Until one day when he showed up at my dorm room
with an armful of flowers, claiming he picked them from the
Chancellor’s private garden. He was romantic that way,” she pressed
her hand to her lips as she began to cry again.

“
Yeah, just like stealing
baskets from restaurants…real romantic,” Calvin griped. Mom laughed
through her cry before she continued.

“
I only found out later,
he actually went to a floral shop and picked out each flower
himself—daisies, daffodils, cosmos, tulips, and calla lilies—each
one just for me.”

I looked at Wilson, her eyes glued on my mom
as she spoke about my dad, her hand still touching my mom’s arm. I
reached over and held Wilson’s other hand, breaking her mesmerizing
stare.

“
That’s so romantic,” she
whispered, her sky blue eyes damp with the story of my parents as
she looked over at me. “I never knew how my grandparents met. I
guess I never really asked before.”

I leaned in and kissed her temple. I’d
always known how my parents met. I always took it for granted,
because I’d heard the story a hundred times before, but this time
it was different. This time it meant more to me knowing that Wilson
was hearing it.

Camille broke into her story, then, on how
she met Dan. But I didn’t listen. I was so entranced by Wilson, all
I wanted to hear was her heartbeat speed and her breath hitch when
I touched her. I wanted her to know that I felt the same way my dad
did when he saw my mom for the first time.

Her eyes met mine, and I just wanted to be
alone with her. I wanted to hear what she had to say, wanted to
listen to her voice as it trembled when she talked about her
family.

“
Well, Mom, this was the
best sea bass yet,” Calvin said as he stood up and picked up his
plate. “Thanks for dinner.” He leaned over and kissed his mom’s
head.

“
You’re welcome, honey,
don’t you want some dessert? It’s vanilla bean ice cream and mixed
berry pie.”

Cal looked at me then over
at Dan before he answered. “Ahhh, no thanks, Ma,” he said has he
rubbed his stomach, “I’m stuffed. And besides, I gotta talk some
business with Dan and Max. I bet Wilson and Cam will have some,
though. Isn’t that right, ladies?” Calvin smiled, winking at
them.
There goes my hard-on.

Camille sat up straight.
Her face—drawn long with narrow eyes—showed a different story. Her
expression looked like she was one of the last kids picked on a
kickball team after school. Wilson, on the other hand, looked over
at me and with twinkling eyes.
I knew
it…she isn’t going to get up and we aren’t going to leave. So much
for my plan.

I dropped my hand against
the top of her thigh, before I inched it inward. She always reacted
to my fingers as I pushed them up against the seam of her pants.
Her legs widened.
Damn, I can feel the
heat radiating from her.

I stood up abruptly and kissed the top of
Wilson’s head. “I’ll be right back. Save a bite for me,” I
whispered.

“
Maybe,” she
teased.

I shuffled past her,
following Dan and Calvin into the great room.
This wasn’t my plan—not at all.

~ Wilson ~

I watched Max walk out, leaving me with his
mom and sister. Not my plan, but I didn’t mind too much either. I
really liked Nancy, and well, Camille wasn’t half bad herself. But
there was a part of me, a pretty huge part, that really wanted to
be alone with Max right then. Nancy stood up and grabbed the last
cluster of empty dinner plates.

“Let me take these into the kitchen,” she
droned quietly.

“Here, let me help you,” I said, shooting up
out of my chair.

“No, absolutely not. It’s a one-woman job.
I’ll be right back with some pie and ice cream,” she insisted.

“Oh, Wilson, just let her do it. That’s her
way,” Camille said as she motioned for me to sit down. She looked
at the kitchen before she repositioned herself to face me. I could
tell she had something on her mind, something she needed to talk to
me about. The minute Nancy disappeared, Camille’s chest heaved and
she looked down at her hands as she slid them across the table in
front of her. Camille’s eyes rose to meet mine and we sat there for
a measurable second, looking at each other in silence.

“Camille, I wanted to apologize for the way
I acted when you came to me for help with Max. I should have—”

“Do you want to know why I came to you? I
went to you because it’s what Max would have done for me. My
brothers have always been the ones to protect me. Even though they
are younger than me, they still take it upon themselves to take
care of me, like I’m this delicate, breakable
thing
. There
is nothing I wouldn’t do for my brothers. I just wish they would
stop thinking that I can’t handle anything.”