The Other F-Word (14 page)

Marley passed me a slice of Tofu cheesecake. “Are you okay, Mom?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” I looked around at my family gathered at this table where we’d shared so many meals, heartaches and joys. Baby Bobby was sound asleep in the playpen in the living room. It saddened me that he’d never sit here and share dish with us. I planned to move into an apartment and this table was just too big for a place like that. I knew one of my daughters would volunteer their homes so we could continue the tradition, but it was hard to imagine having dish and dish anywhere but here.

“You look sad. Also, you look hot,” Dillon said, gesturing to my blue wrap dress.

Of course they all knew something was wrong. I’d told my girls when they were having a bad day to dress up extra special, that it would make them feel better automatically. I’d followed my own advice.

“I’m not sad. I’m with my family. What more could a mother want?”

They all exchanged worried looks.

“Dish…tell me again about your honeymoon, Rick.” I hoped the change in topic would ease the questioning looks they were giving me.

“Mom, we’ve been through it a hundred times,” Marley complained.

“I heard your version. I want to hear Rick’s.” It sounded like they’d had an amazing time. Marley had told us about visiting her namesake Bob Marley’s grave and a bunch of other tourist areas they’d gone to, but I wanted more details. Marley was beaming and although I was miserable, her joy eased me.

“What would you like to know?” Rick asked.

“Tell me about your favourite parts of the trip.”

Rick smiled at Marley, putting his arm around her. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Sure, Emmie, I’d be happy to share. We had a great time. I guess if I were to list the favourites other than the beach bungalow we stayed at, I’d start with the small boat we rented our second day.”

“The boat was really nice, although I thought it was too fast,” Marley said.

“Well, we did have a time limit, baby,” Rick replied. “We also went to a secluded beach that the locals told us about. I liked that too.”

“I loved that beach. We took our time there…exploring it,” she said, smiling at him.

He kissed her forehead. “It was beautiful,” he continued. “The best beach I’ve ever been to. Oh, we also went to the mineral baths and swam in the caves there one day.”

“I loved that the most. It started out warm then the water got very hot, but it was so relaxing. Just perfect,” Marley said, matching his grin.

“Jesus, you’re trying to tell us all the places you had sex,” Stevie muttered under her breath.

As soon as she said it, I realised it was true. Definitely, not the details I’d had in mind. Had I raised a bunch of nymphos?

Rick rubbed the back of his neck like he always did when he embarrassed, but Marley just rolled her eyes at Stevie. Adam did some sort of high five gesture to Rick like he’d scored a point in a major sports game.

“Nice, Magic Man,” he said.

Marley slapped the table. “Dammit, Stevie, why do you always have to be so vulgar? That’s not what he was doing.”

“Then what?” Dillon asked.

“He was telling you where we made love,” she responded.

Everyone groaned. Especially me.

Marley narrowed her eyes at Stevie. “Jealous much?”

“Hell yeah we’re jealous, we have a kid now. So there’s a shortage of German chocolate cake at our house these days,” Adam answered.

Stevie elbowed him in response.

“My godson’s an angel. It can’t be that bad,” Marley said.

“You try staying up two nights in a row with a screaming infant and then tell me how angelic he is,” Adam quipped. Stevie gave him a cutting glance. He cleared his throat. “But we love every minute of it.”

Marley’s smile faltered and Rick tightened his arm around her. The drama at a family table didn’t revolve around the things that were said, but rather the unspoken words. In that moment, it was clear Marley was waging an internal battle.

“It’s not that bad, sweetie,” I said. “You adjust to the changing sleeping patterns.”

Everyone at the table knew about her night terrors—Marley had given Stevie permission to tell Adam after their wedding. It helped him understand his wife’s reasoning for some of the choices she made. They were all done out of her fierce love for her sister.

“The medication makes it so I can’t wake up. I sleep through everything, even when I’m being violent.”

Rick tilted her chin. “Remember, I’ll be there too.”

Van Morrison jumped on Marley’s lap, purring and nudging against her stomach as if he was trying to tell her something too. She stroked his orange fur. He hissed at her in response. Marley hissed right back, and he scampered in my direction. “Do you have to bring your pussy everywhere you go, Stevie?”

“He misses you guys, and I know you all miss him.”

“Of course we miss him,” I said, petting his huge head. I had no idea why Marley and Van Morrison were arch enemies. They’d never got along. A funny point of contention in our family.

“I miss pussy too. I miss it so much,” Adam said grumpily, giving Stevie an endearing look.

We all let out a huge ewee, but there was laughter behind it. Yes…I had a family of nymphos—that much was obvious.

“Okay, well let’s keep going. Thanks for sharing, Rick,” I said.

Rick nodded, giving me a grateful look that I was changing topics. I stared over at the empty chair that was Billie’s. I noticed everyone else’s eyes darted there too during dinner. I missed her terribly. We all did.

“It’s mail time,” I said with a real smile. I walked over to the console where I had left Billie’s letters. This was like Christmas for us. My sweet girl wrote actual letters, and she mailed them once a month in a big manila envelope to the house. I passed the two couples their letters, and Dillon his. I’d already read mine. It lay on my nightstand, the ink smeared from my tears. Billie was doing well and there was nothing negative in her correspondence—I just missed her.

“Here is Billie’s dish,” I said, taking out the envelope labelled ‘family dish’ that was meant for all of us to share. We’d started out with Billie on speaker phone, but her schedule was too busy so she’d started mailing her dish. I sent her back ours in her monthly care package. Although I’d have to edit tonight’s dish, because there was no way I was writing about Adam missing pussy or Rick’s description of his honeymoon. I cleared my throat and started reading. “Dear family, hi all, dish—I’m making lots of new friends and I might take a woman’s studies class next semester.”

“That’s all she wrote?” Stevie asked.

“That’s it.”

“That massive tuition for majoring in English is really paying off,” Marley said, making us all laugh again. It was massive, and one of the many reasons I was selling the house.

“I’m glad she’s taking woman’s studies. It should be a prerequisite for every girl,” Adam said.

Stevie gave him a pointed look. “Why do you say that?”

He shrugged. “You know, it’ll teach her all the things a woman should know, like how to cook for instance.”

Stevie smacked his chest. He gave her an apologetic grin back, showing he was joking.

“And you wonder why you’re not getting pussy,” Rick said.

“
Et tu
, Randy? We bros have to stick together or these girls will steamroll us,” Adam replied.

I laughed, thinking of what would happen if Billie was at this table. Calling Van Morrison Pussy had started out as a joke, but my youngest daughter always blushed every time. “Enough…if one more person says pussy, I’m taking away your dessert!”

They all stared at me and in unison said, “Pussy.”

“Sorry, Emmie, you kind of walked into that one,” Dillon said, putting the last sugar on his makeshift tower.

I bought sugar cubes just so he’d be able to do this. I never used the stuff myself, but Dillon needed to build things. He was out of supplies now, which would be a problem because I was pretty sure he wasn’t done with his project. Marley went to her purse and took out a plastic bag, laying it on the table.

“Rick and I had breakfast at a diner. They have these set out for the taking so I grabbed some. You never know when you’ll need a little sugar,” she said.

“Thanks, kid,” Dillon said, turning his face from us. It was clear he was appreciative of Marley’s gesture, but he didn’t want us to bring attention to his issues.

“We need to discuss Billie’s care package this month. I need your items by next week.” It had been my idea to send her a monthly care package. Everyone had insisted on contributing an item so she’d know we were all thinking of her—we called it the Potluck package. My other two girls had commuted to school, so this was new territory for all of us. “I think I’m going to bake her brownies.”

“No,” everyone replied in unison, as if I’d just said I was making her meth.

“Why?”

Stevie sighed. “She said she’s making friends. Do you want her to be the kid with the bean brownies?”

“Okay, point taken. My brownies suck.”

“They taste like shit,” Adam added.

“Are you speaking from experience?” Dillon asked.

I stifled my laugh at how similar Adam’s words were to his mother’s. “Swear jar,” I said.

He looked as if he might argue.

“No exceptions.”

He grumbled, walking to the brimming container full of greenbacks.

“Don’t worry, I got the dessert on this package. I’ll make her the macadamia nut cookies she’s crazy for,” Stevie said.

“I found her a few books of poetry in Jamaica from local poets,” Marley said.

“She would love that,” I replied.

“I’m sending her some hair care products, Emmie,” Dillon said. “The cold weather and static is going to do a number on that perfect blonde hair.” He was right. Billie did have the best head of hair I’d ever seen.

“That’s very practical, Dillon.”

“Rick and I went in together on her item this month,” Adam said.

I could see from the shocked looks on my daughters’ faces that they didn’t know.

“I actually have it.” Adam reached into his shirt pocket and handed me an envelope.

“What is it?”

“We paid for her to take self-defence classes,” Rick said.

“It’s close to the campus so she can walk there, and they offer flexible times so she can work it around her schedule,” Adam explained.

“I love it, but what made you guys think of that?” Marley asked.

Rick shrugged. “She’s a young girl in a big city by herself.”

“That’s one class that should be a prerequisite for every girl. It can be a cruel world,” Adam said, clasping Stevie’s hand. A knowing look passed between them. Stevie had been attacked in college and almost raped. It had torn Adam apart.

I think my heart melted right then. Adam and Rick were natural born protectors and when they’d joined our family, they’d adopted us too…all of us. They both looked at Billie as a little sister, and they treated her accordingly. Both my daughters had chosen so well.

“I don’t think you’ll be missing pussy much longer,” Stevie said, patting her husband’s chest.

The groans that followed could probably be heard for miles.

And there it was…my crazy family. I loved them so much, but more importantly, we all loved each other.

Chapter Thirteen

I loved the Wilston Hotel. It was an impressive structure with all the modern amenities, but the architecture resembled an old mansion with its wide columns covered in white roses, its large balconies and the portico. It was Hollywood glam with a corporate slant and probably the most romantic place I’d ever seen.

I met with Kelly Harris again to run over the details of the benefit that was three months away. She made quite a few uncomfortable comments about how Mr Wolfe usually wasn’t so involved in the charity functions he held. I knew she was trying to scope out information. I kept circling the conversation back to the benefit. She spoke highly of her boss, complimenting him profusely and making it clear she had a serious crush on the man. I nodded and murmured my agreement about his kindness, which didn’t just extend to our library, but many organisations. Kelly Harris seemed to enjoy talking about Damien’s accomplishments a little too much. It was almost as if her goal was to make it apparent that she knew him much better than I did. I smiled because it was obvious he was a very good man. I swallowed back the lump in my throat because it was also obvious that I was a very stupid woman.

* * * *

I noticed the running path that day. It wove around the hotel grounds, through the gardens. I decided to go for a jog there a week later. I desperately needed to get out of my own head, and running had always helped me.

I donned my black running shorts, padded pink sports bra that was snug and kept my girls from jiggling and my Metallica zip-up hoodie. I wasn’t feeling too funky these days, but I added a beaded headband for fun. I also had to be practical—I was going to run hard today so I wrapped a red paisley bandana around my wrist to wipe off any excess sweat from my brow.

How had I not known about this path? I ran all over Chicago, but this didn’t even feel like the city. It was like a little patch of country, a secret garden, a hidden gem. The air smelt crisp and clean this morning—the perfect running weather. The sun shone brightly, highlighting the lush flowering foliage of the golden hemlock shrubs and the apple blossom trees lining the path, creating a breathtaking scene worthy of a Thomas Kinkade painting. My smile was sad though because it reminded me of his eyes.

As if I was staring into the deep abyss of them…and then I was. Damien Wolfe was running the opposite direction, looking hot as hell in his black running shorts and North Face T-shirt, which revealed the outline of his muscular chest. His face was darkened by the perfect amount of morning scruff.

He stopped in front of me but kept running in place. I stood frozen like a possum under attack.

“Hi, Jessie,” he said, with a tight smile that didn’t reach those liquid gold eyes.

“Hi, Damien.”

“What’s on the iPod?” he asked.

I smiled in relief at his friendly question and I took out my ear buds. “Kid Rock.”