#AdaElise

[authoradaelise]

Only You - Chapter One.

Content warnings: Mention of parental death, subtle mention of abusive relationship.

Word count: 1.7k

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“Darling, could you help me with the last of your bags?” My dad shouts over his shoulder while walking through the green front door – the one he let me and Momma paint all those years ago. The memory feels so far away. “It reminds me of the ones I love most.” She would tell me while kissing my eyelids like a blessing.

She’s been gone for nearly a decade now and I haven’t seen that door since. I grab the last two trash bags from the back of my dad’s truck, filled with whatever of mine I could manage to throw in it, and head towards the house. I hold my breath before I step inside, eyes focused on the door knob, preparing to be washed over with a version of my life I’ve been far removed from.

“You know, it really didn’t seem like this much when we were packing everything in.” My dad huffs, bending forward with his hands on his knees.

“I told you I’d grab it all myself, Dad.” I look at him with a knowing smile. He’s going to tell me he promised to take care of me and that means even this too, I just know it.

“No, darling, it’s alright. I’m just messin’ with ya. I told you I’d take care of you always, right? And that means carrying these damn bags.” Told ya.

“Suit yourself!” I throw the two bags I’m carrying at his feet with a giggle. He fakes falling over in pain. “Don’t worry about it Dad, seriously. I’ve got it.” I pick up the bags I threw, setting them aside with the rest that he brought in. Walking over to the kitchen, I whisper a soft “hi” and hold my hand to a photo of Momma hanging up on the wall. The house still smells just like her somehow.

“Want some water?” I ask Dad, already pouring him a cup.

“Get your old man a beer, sweetie. I could use one.” I grab us both a beer and bring the waters to sit down on the couch.

“House doesn’t look like it’s changed much.” I say, looking over at my dad with his eyes closed. He always does this when he’s in deep thought. I know he won’t say what he really wants to.

“I think I’ve had enough change in life. Didn’t wanna make the house part of it.” He turns to look at me and places his arm around my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re finally back here with me. You’re safe now.”

I wince at those words. You’re safe now. There was a time those words were whispered to me. Not by my father, but by another man who promised to love me. To protect me. He didn’t. And I was never safe.

I give my father a small smile and lean my head on his shoulder. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath in, pulling in the smell of home. There’s a hint of something else. I already know and my eyes spring open, spinning my head to look at him again.

“You’re smoking again, aren’t you?”

“What? Where did you get that from?”

“I can smell it, Dad. Clear as day. You’ve never been one for air fresheners or candles.”

“I’ve been with you for the last 3 days darling, where could I have gotten a smoke from?”

“Anywhere! They’re not that hard to find!” I yell.

“Alright, alright!” He raises his voice, not to a yell but almost a defensive plead. He continues.

“Sometimes I have a little somethin’ with my buddy. It’s not a habit again, I promise. I just – sometimes I need it to keep sane.”

“Your buddy? Since when do you have friends?” It came out more insulting than curious. “Sorry, I-- ”

“I haven’t been able to catch up with you in the recent years, darling. Forgive me.” He cuts me off, reminding me of the time that has passed us by where I was slowly losing more contact with him. Not by my own choice.

“No, it’s – it’s my fault.”

“Not your fault, my girl. I promise you that.” He takes a deep breath and continues. “My buddy Joel moved here about five years ago. He’s got two girls, Sarah and Ellie. They lost their mom when they were very young, car accident, and Joel needed a fresh start. I think you’d really like ‘em. They’re good ones.”

“Okay.” I let out, a little bit relieved.

“Okay?” he questions, almost sounding nervous.

“Well you’re not grounded or anything, if that’s what your worried about.” I smile. He chuckles.

“I promise it’s really not a habit again. I wouldn’t do that to ya. But I do it every once in a blue moon when we’re sat talking. I like to talk about you and he likes to talk about his girls. That’s all, darling.”

“Well, I’d like to meet them then.” I say, taking a swig of beer.

“Good. Because they should just about be here in twenty minutes or so for dinner.” I start choking.

“Twenty minutes?! You were just telling me on the drive down how we have nothin’ in the fridge!”

“Relax, darling. They’re bringing over pizza. I told them we’d be too tired after driving for so long and to bring your favorite.”

“Extra cheese?” I look at him with a huge grin.

“Extra extra.” He looks back at me as if he’s thinking “You think I’d ever forget that?” I’ve forgotten so many parts of myself I guess I’d half expected him too as well.

“Let me go freshen up.”

I run up the stairs, still creaking with every step as it always used to. I remember being so upset I couldn’t sneak out because Momma was such a light sleeper. Some nights she’d join me downstairs for a 2am snack, whispering about nonsense, the sound of Dad’s snores echoing up the stairs. I reach the top and turn the corner to see my room door open. Nothing is different from when I last saw it except for my bedding, which Dad must have changed right before he left to come get me. My bathroom has my favorite hand soap from a small family-owned shop nearby — again something he must have picked up for me. I’m grateful for the familiarity of it all. I wash my hands and use the left over water to swipe underneath my eyes, getting rid of the mascara that my tears must have smeared. I spent most of the drive down from New York crying, trying not to wake Dad with it whenever it was my turn to drive. As a result, I look exhausted beyond compare, my skin begging for any sort of relief.

I don’t realize how long I’ve been standing there until I hear the doorbell and turn to leave the bathroom. I can hear shuffles of feet and young voices.

“Hi Uncle Henry!” One of the young voices says. Uncle Henry? What have I missed all these years?

“Oh, my sweet hearts!” I stand at the top of the stairs witnessing my dad hug two girls, one maybe a couple of years older than the other. “Where’s your dad?”

“He’s being old and taking his sweet time. Grabbing the pizza.” The older girl says, rolling her eyes like she’s mocking him. The youngest starts grabbing at her lower back, slouching over and faking pain, “Oh oh, look at me I’m old and my back hurts!”

“All right, all right, very funny, Ellie.” A deep voice says in a tone suggesting he’s heard this joke too many times before. He jokingly nudges her with his foot and then closes the door behind him with it, arms full of pizza.

“Oh, there you are darling. Do you mind helping Joel with the pizza while I get us set up in the kitchen?” My dad turns to look up at me, pointing two fingers down at either girl. “This is Sarah and Ellie! Joel’s daughters.” They both smile wide grins up at me, waving dramatically. He moves a finger to point at Joel next. “And that’s my buddy Joel!” Now my dad is the one grinning, like he’s proudly showing him off.

Joel doesn’t smile. He only looks at me – his expression unreadable like he’s trying to figure out something he wasn’t expecting. A flutter in my chest causes my breath to catch. A sweet voices speaks up, cutting the silent tension with enthusiasm.

“You’re very pretty!” Sarah says.

“I like your shirt!” Ellie says, almost immediately after. Joel moves his gaze towards the pizza boxes in his hands, grounding himself, while I begin walking down the stairs, offering a thank you to the bright-eyed girls.

“Alright, let her make it downstairs first before you hound her.” He gives them a knowing look that says go ahead and they make their way towards the kitchen. I make it to the bottom step and his eyes return downward. I reach out my hands to place them underneath the bottom box, when I realize that I’ve grazed his fingers, a short moment on his skin, and he flinches.

“Sorry, I—”

“It’s fine.” He cuts in quickly. “Here uh – take the top box.” Without looking up, he hands it over to me and I sneak a glance at him, taking this moment to search for anything like an answer to this disorienting tension. His jaw tightens and he squares his shoulders like he’s bracing himself.

“Thanks.” I murmur, feeling uncertain. He nods once, tilting his head towards the kitchen.

“Ready?”

“Good to go.” I pivot and walk ahead of him, feeling his stare burning into my back. The warmth of him lingering closely – almost like it’s guarding me, yet I feel so exposed. I spot my dad at the kitchen table, girls sat with their paper plates in hands, eyes lighting up when they see the pizza boxes settling in front of them. I slide into a chair and force a smile when Sarah passes me a slice. It tastes like childhood, almost too good to be true. Somewhere between the noise and laughter that has found itself in the air, I remember that this isn’t just a return, but a new beginning.

[kind-of-drawing]

Hello! For the past year or so, I’ve had a list of goals for myself, and one of those goals is to get better at art. I already consider myself an artist, as a writer and a musician, but I want to build my skills in visual art such as drawing and painting. In all truthfulness, I don’t think I’m a horrible artist, but I could improve. A lot. So for motivation (both for myself and others), I decided that it couldn’t hurt to make my journey public! I know that there are a lot of talented artists on Tumblr - which is a bit intimidating, not going to lie - but I’m hoping that this blog will be a place for me to share my victories (and my failures) and maybe even inspire others sometime in the future. I know that Tumblr is always really supportive so I’m hoping that you all enjoy this insanity. These are a few of the drawings that I’ve done recently to set a foundation for whatever improvement happens in the future.

If you have any suggestions on what I should draw or how I could improve please tell me! I’ll probably need inspiration so if you have any tips, ideas, comments, questions, anything, tell me! (please) I’m sharing my art with Tumblr for a reason.

- I don’t have any digital drawing tools so all of my drawings will be done on paper :l

- I expect to draw something at least once a week, but I’m not a very motivated person and I’m bad at getting inspired so updates will come whenever I draw something new. Due to the current quarantine situation updates will probably be more plentiful than when society starts up again.

Lastly - please don’t judge me or say hurtful things. If you want to comment constructive criticism I would love it, if you want to say nice things to support me I would be so thankful, but if you don’t like what I’m doing or think my progress is slow or something please just keep it to yourself. I respect everybody’s opinion, but I’m taking a chance, trying something new, and putting myself out there, and I would appreciate it if everybody was supportive and helpful. I’m able to pursue an ambition of mine and I think that’s a beautiful thing, so please don’t put me down. 

[authoradaelise]

Only You - Chapter Two.

Content warnings: Mention of parental death, subtle mention of abusive relationship.

Word count: 2.6k

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Late mornings towards the end of summer are a blessing I’ll never again take for granted. I didn’t realize how much I missed the slow start, coffee brewing, sound of the wind rustling through the trees. This is the first morning I’ve woken up without that tight feeling in my chest, waiting for the fuse to blow.

I ruffle around in bed, taking in the look of my room. It’s a time capsule for the person I once was and it feels strange to be in this place again. It’s almost as if I’m cosplaying a role I don’t even remember the details for.

“Darling?” I hear my dad call out in question, gently, right outside my door. I slide out of bed, stretching my arms over and wiping at my eyes. I walk towards the door, take a deep breath, and open the door.

“Hey, Dad. G’morning.”

“Coffee, milk, four sugars.” He holds up the steaming cup towards me. I don’t have it in me to tell him that’s not how I drink it anymore. My ex husband, Liam, preferred me to match the way he did things. Black coffee – no coffee at all if he fully had it his way. I suppose letting me still drink it at all was the one kindness he extended me. I grab the cup from his hand, smiling so he knows he did the right thing, placing my hand on his back, in a gesture.

“Front porch? It seems nice out this morning.”

“Sure thing, darling.” We make our way downstairs, walking out the front door to a rush of fresh air. It’s as though it’s helping me breathe. We sit down, quiet for sometime before my dad breaks the silence.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?”

I swallow a sip of coffee, feeling a lump forming in my throat. “I know.”

“I know it wasn’t easy, coming back home and what not. Especially after all this time, but I-” he pauses, his voice breaking a little. “I just want you to know how sorry I am for not seeing through it all. For not knowing how much trouble you were in.” He looks at me then, eyes glassy. “It’s not your fault, Dad. You wouldn’t have known, he made sure of that.”

“I should know when something ain’t right with my little girl. I just thought...I thought after your mother died you needed that time and space to grieve. But then it turned into too much time and too much space, I just lost track of how to get you back.” A tear slides down my cheek. I reach over to grab his hand and give a gentle squeeze. I can’t speak but I think he understands. We’ve always understood each other in what’s unspoken.

Across the road, I see a car pull up to the house in front of it. Two girls step out of the back seats and race towards their front door, nudging each other out of the way, fighting to see who can open it first. I recognize them to be Sarah and Ellie.

“They live just across the street?”

“Sure do. It’s real nice.”

My mind is reminded of last night. Laughter was all that filled the air, giggles from the girls as they kept making jokes, Dad talking about everything that kept breaking in the house, how nice enough of Joel was to always come by and help fix it right up. I’d make eye contact with him whenever Dad mentioned his name. He’d return it, if only for a brief moment, just to humbly look down again, shaking his head as if my dad’s praise was a ridiculous thing he didn’t deserve. He didn’t speak to me at all. Not directly, at least. The girls eventually sat in the living room, playing board games, while the adults stayed at the table, sipping on beer.

There was a brief moment where we were left alone at the table, Dad off upstairs to use the bathroom. I remember asking Joel if he liked living here. He was short with me.

“Mhm, real nice.”

I struggled to find a way to continue. He didn’t seem rude, just… not interested. As though he couldn’t wait to have my dad back downstairs as a buffer. I continued anyways.

“Your girls are real funny.” I lift my chin, gesturing towards them. Not that he can see me, anyhow. His eyes remained focus on them and I see a small smile grace his lips.

“Yeah, they are. Real pieces of work, too. Don’t let ‘em fool ya.”

“All the best people are.” I say. He turns and finally looks at me and I get a small rush of air that smells like him. Like wood, smoke, a hint of sweat. There’s that warmth again, burning into me. I can’t tell if I’ve somehow said something wrong. Did I say something wrong? I think to myself. A nervous gulp making its way down my throat. His eyes flicker to my throat and linger there for what feels like a full minute before he finds my own eyes again. He clears his throat.

“You’re probably right about that.” I move to say something witty, to lighten the mood some more, finally feeling progress from earlier in the night where it seemed like it pained him to be in the same room as me, but then my dad interrupts.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He walks back into the kitchen, patting his stomach. Joel and I both chuckle.

“I think we better head on out.” Joel says, standing up to give my dad a pat on the back. “Ellie, Sarah, let’s head on out.”

“Well what’s the rush? It’s only eight!” My dad exclaims, sounding disappointed and a little confused. As if this isn’t the normal.

“The girls are starting school back up soon and I think we should get them back on schedule. You’ve seen ‘em in the mornings, Henry, you know what they’re like.” Joel says, as if to prove a point. The girls stand up in the living room, rolling their eyes. They make their way towards me, arms extended, both of them end up hugging either side of me, squeezing gently.

“It was really nice meeting you both. I had a really nice time.” I say as I hug them back.

“Nice meeting you too!” They say in unison, both grinning and waving as they walk towards the front door, waiting on Joel.

Dad, Joel, and I start heading towards the door then. I’m prepared to end the night without hearing another word from Joel again, but then he surprises me.

“Nice to meet you, Julia.” He gives a nod, back to staring at me, waiting for a response. It takes me by surprise, partly because no one has called me Julia since Momma. Liam used to call me Julie, sometimes not even by my name at all. And Dad, well I’m always darling to him, but other times it’s just Jules. My heart skips a beat and I’m waiting for it to catch up when Joel turns around to leave, probably given up on hearing a response from me.

“Yes!” I say, a little too loudly, causing him to whip his head around. My hand extending out and swatting the air as if to scratch that awkward moment from in front of us. “Sorry it- it was nice meet you too.” My cheeks feel like they are burning, my eyes are shut for a moment and I open them to him smiling.

“Yeah.” He says, as if he’s agreeing with my agreement of him. He heads out the door and I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until the door shuts and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“You okay, darling?” My dad looks at me, concerned. “Your face is a bit red. I guess it is kind of warm inside. Let me open up some windows.”

“Mm.” I nod in agreement as he turns to do what he suggested.

I’m brought back to the present moment, shaking my head of last night, when Dad says something.

“So, I heard Liz and Maggie are excited to have you at the library. Maria just left on maternity leave so it’s real good timing for you to hop on in.”

“Maria?” I ask.

“Ah, right. Forgot to tell ya. Maria is Tommy Miller’s wife. Tommy is Joel’s brother. They moved here a couple of years ago, following Joel. Figured he was lonely and could use some more family. They’re real close.” Joel Miller.

“Why move here? Such a small town, everyone already so acquainted.” I look to him, curious.

“Something about his wife. Said she visited when was young and she loved it here. She wanted to move here eventually, raise the girls. But the car accident happened and it just took him a little bit to make it.”

“How old were the girls? When…”

“Sarah was two, Ellie just born. It’s been a long while since, the girls being thirteen and fifteen now. But for Joel, it’s still something he’s struggling with. I think he just wants the girls to be happy and safe, most importantly.”

“Right. Of course.” I nod, understanding as best as I could. I suppose we know a different kind of loss. But loss is loss at the end of the day and a grieving heart is one looking for a place to go. My dad places his hands on his knees, pushing him self up.

“I think we should head on over there and help with whatever they got going on. I think they went grocery shopping and lord knows those girls are probably eating the food instead of packing it away.” He chuckles, getting ready to head down the steps. “You coming?” He asks me, looking for confirmation.

“I’ll be right over. Let me just brush my teeth and get changed.”

“I’ll meet you over there. Door should be open so just come on in.” He leans to give me a kiss on the cheek before making his way across the road.

I head upstairs to clean myself up and change out of my pajamas. I throw on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, my boots waiting for me downstairs. I try to pull my hair up into a ponytail but a slight headache graces me, so I leave it down in a lose braid. I make my way downstairs, throwing on my boots, and head down our front steps, door shutting behind me.

I stare at Joel’s front door my entire way across the road. I wait for it to become closer, but it feels like the more I walk the further it is. Or maybe it’s the way the air feels heavy on my lungs. That anxious feeling lurking beneath me, but the moment I step on his front porch, slow steps until I’m inches from the front door, I finally breathe. I don’t know what’s causing me to feel this way. I’m far away from Liam and he won’t find me here. All those years he kept me away, he figured there’s no sense in knowing where I’m from. Where I’d return to if it weren’t for him. I swallow, willing myself to place my hand on the doorknob, turn it, and walk in. I move to do just that, my hand reaching out when the door suddenly opens and Joel bumps into me, my hand suddenly resting on his stomach in shock. I pull back.

“Sorry! I was just taking a moment before stepping inside. I went to turn the knob right as you walked out I guess and-”

“It’s no worries.” He says, wiping his palms on his jeans, then tucking his hands in his front pockets, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. My face is still angled down, staring at the place my hand was just at. I start to look up slowly, gathering more of him into my memory. He’s a simple man, wearing boots, jeans, and a dark gray shirt. My eyes continue to drift up his chest, his neck, his mouth, eventually landing on his eyes. The wind blows slightly, the wind chimes on his front porch the only thing disrupting the silence. The smell of cedar and sage envelops me and I can’t help but breathe it in.

I scramble to find words to say when he saves the moment.

“Your dad is just in there with the girls. I’ve still got a few things in the trunk of the car if you don’t mind helping me out?” He pulls one hand out of his pocket, pointing his thumb towards his car, eyebrow raised. He looks as serious as always, almost like it pains him to ask. Like my dad somehow convinced him to let me help out and he’s just trying to be nice, make me feel useful.

“Mm, yeah sure thing.” I nod profusely, holding eye contact, making sure he knows it’s not me that can’t stand to be near him. He turns and heads down to the trunk of his car, me right behind him.

“It’s just a few cleaning supplies for the house.” He starts explaining to me, getting all the bags together in one spot. “It’s been a while since we did a nice deep clean, and figured with school starting up again it’d be good to get the house reset, you know, for the girls. So they can feel nice and ready.” He lets out a deep breath, like he didn’t take one the entire time he spoke.

That was the most amount of words I’ve heard come out of his mouth when addressing me. I don’t know how to respond because a part of me feels like if I speak, I will ruin this moment. This brief moment where he gave me more than five words of his time. I want to savor it, freeze time, until he turns around, looking at me with worried eyes, like he may have over spoke. I don’t want to lose this moment so I quickly say “No, yeah of course! Makes a lotta sense.” I smile. Gesturing my hands out so he can hand me which bags to carry. He clears his throat and turns to grab a bag. One singular bag. He hands it to me.

“I- are you sure? I can grab more than one bag, I’m not as weak as a I look.” I joke. He looks at me with his, what I’m learning to be familiar with, usual serious expression. He eyes me up and down.

“You don’t look weak at all.” He says softly, in a way that contradicts his usual rough tone. He closes down the trunk and starts heading towards the house again. I watch as his arms flex when holding the bags on both arms, his veins protruding just a bit. His stops before going up the porch steps, turns his head slightly, and looks at me from the corner of his eye. “I appreciate you helping, Julia.”

I look down at my hand, still holding the one bag while he holds the rest. I almost think he might be upset, offended that I didn’t keep suggesting to hold more. Maybe I was meant to southern hospitality my way back and forth with him until one of us felt satisfied enough with the proper bag to person ratio. That is until he smiles and lets out a low chuckle, continuing up the stairs.

“Could you get that for me?” He nods his head towards the door for me to open it.

“Sure thing.” I say, pulling the door open and standing with my back against it, holding it while he makes his way through. His arm brushes mine as he walks through and his eyes briefly drop to where our arms touched. He presses his lips into a firm line and keeps moving forward without looking at me. I follow him into his home, letting the door shut behind me, sealing me into his space.

[authoradaelise]

Only You - Chapter Three

Content warnings: Discussion of abusive relationship.

Word count: 3.9k

Author's Note: I'm posting this at 2am because I really enjoyed writing this chapter and hope you love reading it!

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We walk in to find Sarah, Ellie, and Dad sitting at the kitchen island, rolling cookie dough and placing it onto trays. They’re all laughing and it brings a smile to my face.

“What’s going on here?” Joel asks them, pretending to be oblivious. “Cookies, duh.” Ellie responds, shaking her head slightly. “Hi Julia!” she waves at me, leading Sarah to look up and do the same.

I wave back with my free hand, setting down the bag in my other. Dad looks up at me then. “Hey, Darling. Cookies for breakfast sound alright?” He gives a glance over to the girls, as if to say this is their doing and we have no choice. “Perfect to me.”

Suddenly, Joel clears his throat. I didn’t realize he’d been standing there watching this interaction. “I’m just gonna head on upstairs, put these away.” He holds up his arms, gesturing to the bags of cleaning supplies he’s still holding. He reaches down to grab the bag I set on the floor a few minutes ago and makes way for the stairs, his warmth following.

“You should have seen him at the store earlier.” Sarah starts talking, finishing up the last of the dough. “Walking around like a madman, just dumping a bunch of stuff into our shopping cart. You would think he’s never had to buy food before!” She starts smiling, a giggle lets out. Ellie joins in. “He kept talking about how we have to get the house extra clean, how important it is for school, or something. Like, dude, come on. What does that even mean?” Ellie’s eyes go wide, waiting for me to be just as confused as I am. I stifle a laugh and try my best to come to his defense.

“I used to like moving around the furniture in my room and cleaning everything from top to bottom when I needed a change.” I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe it’s something like that? It used to calm my mind, made me feel refreshed.”

“Hm.” The girls both say in unison, standing up to take their trays to the oven, Dad making sure they don’t burn themselves. I hear the steps creak and I look up to watch as Joel begins to walk down them. His hair looks a bit disheveled, wavy in some parts, sprinkles of gray sticking through. His eyes gently watch mine the entire way down, only breaking when he steps into the kitchen.

He brushes past me, walking towards the oven, bending down to take a peak. “How long ‘till they’re done?” he looks at the girls, an eyebrow raised. “Twenty minutes?” Sarah shrugs like she’s not sure. Joel reaches over and pulls her in her for a hug, doing the same to Ellie.

He pats Dad on the shoulder, pointing his thumb over his own towards the couch. “Game’s got an early start so should be on any minute now. I’m gonna sit.” Dad follows him, sitting down in the lone chair off to the side like he owns the place. Joel sits in the corner of the couch, hands rubbing his thighs like he’s nervous.

“Game?” I ask, slightly confused. “Baseball, Jules.” Dad pats the arm rests of his chair like a giddy kid. “You staying?”

My mind tells me to look for Joel’s approval – partly because this is his home, but also because he hasn’t said anything to me since coming inside. I’m fidgeting with the side of my jeans, looking for the right thing to say when Joel reaches into my hidden thoughts, and says “Stay.” He extends his right arm out, gesturing towards the empty space on the couch. I sit on the opposite end, a little too willingly. I don’t want to look too relieved but the way he looks at me is like he knows it’s what I needed to hear.

He turns the TV on, the volume already blaring by default. I flinch from the sudden noise and Joel looks over to me. “Sorry. Your old man has hearing problems and always needs the TV up real loud. Blame him.”

Dad looks at him almost offended, then looks at me with his eyebrows all screwed up. “You see how he talks to me? He’s lucky I don’t get on out this chair and lose his lucky charm.”

“You are getting pretty old, Dad.” I smile at him. “And we’ve lost every single game when you’re sitting in that chair, Henry.” Joel adds, poking more fun.

“Ah, hell. Fine, I’ll sit on the couch then. You get over there and see how it feels.” Dad says, walking over to me, swatting my legs and signaling for me to sit in the lucky chair instead. As I get up to move, Dad continues. “ ‘Sides, I’m only eight years older than you. You’ll be there real soon, you’ll see.” Him and Joel chuckle to themselves. The TV is even louder from where I’m sitting now, facing more direct the screen, but I try my best to ignore it. I can handle it if only I remember to breathe real slow.

Moments pass and I realize I’ve had my eyes gently closed this whole time. I open them when I hear Dad shout, “Let’s go, let’s go!” It seems like the game is starting and I turn to see Sarah and Ellie walk out from the kitchen, leaving a kiss on the top of Joel’s head. “We’re headed out, Dad. Cookies are done and on top of the table. See you later?” Sarah waits for his response, both girls holding zip lock bags in their hands, a couple of cookies each.

“No later than nine, all right?” They both nod their heads. “Bye Uncle Henry, Bye Julia!” They say, in unison walking out the door. The door closes behind them and Joel turns to look at me. “They usually head over to their friends’ houses for the day. They live right down the street.”

“I was the same when I was that age, I get it.” I extend a knowing look. I wait for him to say something again, but he doesn’t. Time passes as we watch the game, Dad and Joel chatting about the players, and I’m sat thinking back to how not so long ago, my Sunday’s were such a different version from this.

Liam always wanted things to be a certain way. It wasn’t right to allow his friends to see his life—his relationship – if it weren’t perfect and he made sure of it. The sound of the games would be on in the background, us hidden behind quiet corners in our apartment. “Do not ever touch him that way again, do you understand me?” He would say, hand wrapped around my arm, threatening me to try and leave, knowing that I can’t. His eyes were always wide, fixed on my own whenever he saw any moment last too long to his liking between any of his friends and I. I would be handing a bottle of beer to one of them, just like he asked me to, and if my fingers so much as touched theirs, he would grow a look of resentment almost immediately. He made anything I did nearly impossible to do right and that’s exactly how he kept control.

I am startled out of my thoughts when Dad stands up to shout, clapping uncontrollably. The TV is louder as the cheers from those in the crowd at the game come through. “Fuck, yeah!” Dad goes again, letting out a whoop and sitting back down. I rub my legs to calm down my nerves, feeling a familiar warmth on the side of my face. I turn my head slightly to find Joel looking at me, quickly glancing down towards his feet, then to the TV as if I didn’t see a thing, and it leaves me feeling disappointed.

I want to stay. I want to become a part of this routine Dad has made for himself. I want to feel safe again. But today is not that day, I’ve come to realize. I move to stand and Joel’s eyes are back on me, like he’s trying to pin me down.

“Hey, uh – I’m going to head out. I’m not feeling too well and I think a nap might help it.” I look to Dad, eyes apologetic. “Do you need me to get you anything, darling? I can take the truck to the store, I’d be back real quick.”

“No, no. Trust me, a nap is all I need.” I try to make my smile as convincing as possible as I start making my way towards the door. Joel gets up quick, taking big strides to get there before me, and he opens it, standing just inches away. “You never grabbed any of the cookies. Want me to pack some away for you?” His eyes search for mine, waiting for my response. “Maybe another time.” I say, trying not to sound weak, but it’s all I can feel.

“Right, yeah.” He looks disappointed. I try not to think too much of why that could be.

“See ya later, Dad. Love you.” I wave over to him and he waves back. “Love you, Jules.”

Joel is looking at his feet, hand still keeping the door open. “Thank you so much for having me. Hopefully next time I feel a bit better and can stay.”

He responds with an immediate “Hope so.”

I walk out the door, taking my time down the steps. I haven’t heard the door shut just yet and part of me wants to look back to see if maybe I just missed it or if Joel is still standing there, waiting for me to turn around. I pause, a fleeting moment of entertaining the idea but my feet start moving. I make it to the front door of my house, rushing through and slamming it shut behind me. I move to the curtains on the window beside me, peaking through. Joel’s silhouette is in his door way but quickly disappears as his own door shuts.

He waited.

I run upstairs, suddenly feeling the weight of my clothes suffocate me. I tear them off quickly and lay flat onto my bed. I grab a pillow, screaming into it until my head feels like it’s going to pop. I can feel the warmth of my tears dampen the pillow beneath my face and my sobs are making it difficult to breathe. I don’t know what happened. I never know what’s happened. One moment things are fine, normal, calm. And the next moment it’s too much, too loud, all at once.

I’ve been divorced for almost a year now, but Liam still lingered around for most of that time. Our shared apartment was lent to me – a parting gift from my ex-husband’s family – as a thank you for not going public with his abuse. His family was filled with well-respected lawyers, eager to keep their reputation and I became a part of the clean up process. He still liked to punish me with his presence, often staying the night in the living room so I’d be startled to see him when I came across him in the morning. It was as though he was taunting to me, the way he’d stare at me without ever saying a word. Going about his day as if we were just two roommates unable to communicate.

Because of him, it became difficult to feel safe or comfortable around men. I always thought he’d be somewhere around a corner, waiting to shout at me for shaking someone’s hand too long or maybe a friend of his would report back to him, making up lies to get him riled up and get me in trouble. That anxious feeling hasn’t left me, despite being away from him, in a place he wouldn’t know to look.

I lay on my back, staring at my ceiling, trying to slow my breath. Joel’s face comes into mind and confusion floods me. When he stares at me it’s as though he’s doing so with confidence and caution all at once, waiting for me to tell him it’s wrong. To stop. But I never get the sense of wanting him to and that make me nervous. I don’t know much about him, besides what Dad has told me. He’s tough but not entirely guarded in a way that any single dad raising two girls would have to be.

My hands steady over my heart, counting my breaths until the pace slows. My eyes flutter closed, sleep whisking me away.

I wake to what sounds like stumbling around downstairs. I throw on my pajamas I left on the ground earlier that day and run, trying not to slip and fall.

“Woah woah, what’s all that ruckus?!” Dad slurs his words, watching me reach the bottom step in a hurry. He looks a bit annoyed and flustered at the same time. He has one arm around Joel, being slightly held up by him. Joel stands there out of breath, shoulders and chest rising from the deep breaths he has to take. “Ignore him, he had a little bit too much to drink.”

“What time is it?” I look around for the time. My phone is upstairs. I haven’t touched it since I’ve left New York. “Just around eleven.” Joel answers, hoisting Dad back onto his two feet, attempting to keep him up right. I walk closer towards them, reaching for Dad’s other arm and wrap it around my shoulder. Joel and I standing on either side of him now.

“What happened?”

“Games ended not too long ago, the girls got back home on time and went to bed, but we stayed chatting for a bit.” He looked at me with sorry eyes. “I’m sorry, Julia. I didn’t even realize he had this much to drink. He must have been drinking some extra without me noticing.”

“I only had FOUR!” Dad says rather loudly, causing a laugh to break out of me.

“Lightweight.” I joke.

“Old.” Joel joins in. Dad huffs and groans. We drag him upstairs together, making sure he’s on his bed well enough and won’t fall off the edge. He starts snoring almost instantly. When I catch the look on Joel’s face, he’s smiling and shaking his head. “Thank you for walking him over. I was asleep when I heard you guys stumbling around, I about died.” I tuck a lose strand of hair behind my ear, and he watches me. “Water?” I add. He nods, following me downstairs.

I make my way to the kitchen while Joel shuts the front door. By the time I finish filling up a cup of water for him, he’s waiting with his hands resting on top one of the chairs. His veins looking the same as they did earlier when he was carrying the bags in. He gives the top of the chair a quick squeeze, causing his knuckles to whiten and reaches out to grab the cup from me. I’m not quite close enough, so I take a few tentative steps forward. He watches me, watches my legs as they move. I forget what I’m wearing – an oversized shirt and white shorts that stop only just below it. I’m reminded with the way his gaze clings on to me that I am more exposed than I was before.

His lips press into a firm line as he grabs the cup from me. “Thanks.” He says, and just like that we’re back to his hard-line demeanor. I want to make a joke about something, anything really, to get back the version of him just minutes ago. I don’t know why it bothers me so much, to watch him dial back and forth between two versions of himself, like he’s deciding which one I deserve to see.

Besides Dad, Liam was really the only person I remember caring how he felt about me. His approval was all that drove my decisions most of the time. We met at the same college when I was twenty, Momma had recently passed away, and I desperately wanted comfort while simultaneously ignoring everything else. That’s when he made his mark. One that would stay and bruise for years to come and since then, I wasn’t allowed to care about anyone else who came around. Just him. Only him.

Until now. “I’m glad he has you.” I end the silence for us both. He’s looking me in the eye now.

“He’s been a real good friend to me. I owe him a lot.” He responds, eye contact unwavering. And I push.

“Why do you do that?” I bite my lip, nervous for how he might respond. Angry or curious.

“Do what?” Curious.

“You did it last night during dinner. Every time Dad was saying a nice thing about you, you’d just look down and shake your head, like he was being ridiculous or something.”

“And now?”

“Now you’re doing the same thing. With me.”

“I don’t remember shaking my head and looking down, actually.” This fucker. I roll my eyes, taking another step closer to him, and he finally sets the water down on the table.

“You know what I mean. Someone says something nice and you deflect. Why?”

“I’m not any good at this.”

“This?” my breath hitches. I don’t know what this means but the energy between us grows warmer, fiercer.

“Accepting kind words from strong women.”

“What—” I want to ask what he means but I’m interrupted by a loud snore echoing from upstairs. The tension dwindles a bit as we both hold in a laugh. Ask, I tell myself. But it’s like he already knew my question and answered it for me. What do you mean?

“When I said your dad and I were chattin’ earlier, it was more than just about the games or the weather.” My heart skips, already knowing where this is leading. He looks off to the side now. “He told me about picking you up from New York, bringing you here and helping you start over. I already knew all that of course, but I didn’t know the why. He was really broken up about it and just needed someone to speak to. I promise I didn’t pry for any more information, he just gave me the basics and—”

“It’s fine.” I cut in, stopping him before he goes any further. “You don’t have to explain. It’s fine.”

“I don’t want you to be upset with him for telling me anything. He means well.”

“I’m not upset and I know my father.”

“Right, of-course.” He backs up a bit and I’m suddenly missing his warmth. I regret the way I spoke almost immediately. He clears his throat. “Well, I – uh, better get back. It’s late and you—”

I cut in again, this time to fix whatever I messed up. If there is anything here to even mess up. “No, I’m sorry.” I suck in a breath before I continue. He comes closer again. “I came back home desperately wanting to start over and I guess I was just hoping that I’d have more time to myself with the reasoning for that. I know you said he didn’t tell you everything, and I appreciate it if you’re lying.” I stop to look up at him. “Either way, I’m not ready for anyone to know. It’s embarrassing.”

His shakes his head no before he begins speaking. “I didn’t. I didn’t lie to you. And it’s not embarrassing, Julia. Believe me.” He puts a hand on the chair again, leaning his weight on it. His head tilts to the side, almost resting on his shoulder like he’s trying to piece something together. I gnaw at my bottom lip nervously, trying to decide if I can trust him to not say anything to anyone in town. My eyes snap downward, witnessing his hand come up to my face, pulling my lip from under my teeth.

“Sorry.” He looks genuinely sorry for touching me. I almost wish he wouldn’t be. “I should go.” He’s standing up straight again, straightening out his shoulders, like he’s prepared for a fight.

I don’t fight him on it, though. What reason could I give for wanting him to stay? He brought Dad home almost thirty minutes ago and if he woke up and found us down here, what would I say? I’m a grown woman but this is his friend. Something tells me Joel is coming to the same conclusion. There’s no reasonable explanation for him to still be here. I respond with a simple “Yeah.”

His shoulders loosen, almost in defeat. He turns and still without even knowing why, I want so badly for him to stay. Instead, I follow him towards the doorway. He rests his palm on the doorknob, pausing to turn back around to me. He doesn’t speak for a while, just looks up the stairs where Dad’s now light snores continue echoing. His eyes move to me like he’s drinking me in. I take that moment to do the same.

It wasn’t until now that I’ve noticed how attractive he is. I guess I didn’t allow myself to notice before. Afraid of what it could mean, so soon. Too soon. His brown eyes – often so unyielding – are longing in this moment, if not a little doe-eyed. The hair on his face, greys mixed with his natural darker hair, matching the waves on top of his head. The small wrinkles around his eyes. I’m tempted to reach out and touch his bottom lip the way he did mine, jutting outward like a permanent pout. But I know it would be a mistake. This feeling in my chest, for once not anxiety, but something yet to be named. Until I can do so, I keep my hand to myself.

He finally speaks, pulling me out of my daze. “Sleep well, Julia.” He opens the door without waiting for a response and I watch as he walks out the door and down the steps. I let out a soft response as he reaches the bottom step. “Sleep well.” He pauses for what feels like long enough he might be changing his mind. But he moves again, making his way across the road back to his home. I stay and watch as he did for me earlier, and just like me, he doesn’t turn back to see. His door shuts and just as quickly, his living room light is on. His blinds are still up, so I can see into the house, witnessing where we were all just sitting hours ago.

I stop from closing my front door all the way, not wanting to make it too obvious that I’m watching. He sits down on the couch and I watch as he places his elbows on his knees, head in hands. He leans back on the couch, arms following, hands tugging at his hair.

It’s then that he turns to look out the window, as if he suddenly remembered he could be seen. I close the door, praying he didn’t see me. I wait a second before moving to the blinds I peaked out from before, and notice his are pulled down now. Fuck. The lights shut off and I back away from the window. I walk slowly up the stairs, feeling like I’m drunk on the adrenaline from watching him. Seeing him disheveled over something to do with me not so regrettably brought me joy. I hold my hand to my bottom lip, willing my fingers to seal his touch. When I reach my room, I curl into bed, dragging the comforter into a cloud around me, sleep stealing me away from my waking thoughts of Joel.