Now That You Mention It
Page 73

“I hit him with the shovel. Anyway, back to the kissing. What do you say?”
This was not how things usually went with me. Not to brag, but I used to be kind of adorable.
Great, great, he was leaning forward. He cupped my face in his hands and looked at my mouth for a second, studying it. My heart sputtered and flapped like...well, like a dying Tweety.
A laugh popped out of my lips just as Sully kissed me. I pulled back. “Sorry, sorry. Try again.”
He did. And he wasn’t a bad kisser, and I didn’t think I was a bad kisser, either, but nothing was happening. His mouth was gentle, his hands slid into my hair—a mistake, because my hair immediately curled around his fingers like malevolent thorn bushes in a fairy tale. “Ow,” I said when he tried to move his hand.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s my hair. It’s alive and evil. Here.” I pulled back a little and helped free his hand.
We did, eventually, make it to the bedroom through force of sheer will. I’ll spare you the details. Technically, we did have sex. And it wasn’t awful. There were a few moments where we...connected. It just wasn’t... Yeah.
It was hard to make eye contact after, and unfortunately, eye contact was necessary for conversation with this guy. I propped myself up on an elbow and did the brave thing.
“Did I hurt you?” I asked.
He laughed. At least there was that. I ran my hand through his hair and knocked out his hearing aid. It was that kind of night.
I sighed, handed him back the earpiece and said, “Maybe we should just be friends. I mean, I’m leaving in August and...well.”
He touched the tip of my nose with one finger. “You weren’t awful,” he said.
“And neither were you. Maybe we should quit our jobs and write Valentine cards.” I kissed him on the cheek. “Friends?”
“Sure.”
“You’re a good sport, Sullivan Fletcher.”
Half an hour later, I was back in my houseboat. I took a shower and got into my jammies and cuddled up with Boomer on the couch. Texted Sully to thank him again for bird disposal, eating my mother’s food and doing me.
He texted back, thanking me for putting up with his mother and apologizing for his brother. See you around were his parting words.
So not what I’d hoped for or expected. Not exactly an enchanted evening.
Nonetheless, it was hard to get to sleep that night. There had been a couple moments in bed with Sully where...well, where it felt like something special was about to happen.
“You’re leaving in six weeks,” I reminded myself. “It’s better this way.”
It just didn’t feel like it.
24
A few days after the Date That Wasn’t, Poe came over after work to have dinner.
She’d only been employed for a week, but she’d already gotten a little color, despite slathering on the sixty-factor sunscreen she wore to protect her bluish-white skin. Tonight, she was full of talk about how cool Audrey was, all the things Audrey knew—dropping lobster pots, tides, storms, all the things island kids knew. “She wants me to sleep over sometime this week,” Poe said. “So we can make posters and stuff for the Go Far, Be Strong thing.”
I thought of that cute little house, the stability Audrey had. Even if her parents had divorced, it was clear Amy had a huge role in the girl’s life, and while I didn’t think too highly of Luke or Teeny, they loved Audrey. As for Sullivan, I’d bet a lung that there was no better father on earth.
I wondered if he ever did things like my father had done with Lily and me. The midnight bike rides down Eastman Hill, the springtime swims, the Cave Challenge.
I hoped not. A father’s job was to make his children feel safe.
Poe never knew her father. She only had Lily and a grandmother who visited dutifully once a year...and an aunt who’d accepted no a little too easily.
“That sounds like fun,” I said, snapping out of my funk. “I mean...do you want to sleep over?”
Poe shrugged. “I guess. Yeah, I do. She’s so positive all the time. I mean, nothing gets her down, but it’s not like she’s oblivious, either.” She paused. “By the way, I’m not a lesbian in case you were about to ask.”
“I wasn’t, but it would be fine if you were,” I said.
“Everyone thinks I am because of my hair and tattoos and stuff. But I think I like guys. Just...not yet.”
“You’re not even sixteen. ‘Not yet’ is a really mature answer.”
“Did you have a lot of boyfriends?” she asked, spearing some asparagus. I’d cooked extra healthy tonight—quinoa salad with asparagus, chickpeas, red peppers, cucumbers and salmon. There was pie waiting on the counter as our reward.
“I didn’t date at all in high school. Back then, I had all the appeal and energy of a pile of sweaty gym clothes.”
Poe snorted.
“But in college and med school, sure.”
“Were the guys nice?”
“They were.” I took a drink of water. “Does your mom date a lot?”
Poe didn’t answer for a minute. “Yeah. A new guy all the time, even if she pretended they were just friends.”
“How was that for you?” I asked.
She shrugged. “It was fine. I mean, there were always people around. We almost always had someone staying with us, or we were staying at someone’s place. Usually one of Mom’s guys.” She poked a chickpea with her fork. “I’ve been living at Gran’s longer than I ever lived in one place before.”
My heart twisted. I wanted so much to tell her she could stay here on Scupper as long as she wanted. I wanted to grab my sister and shake her and tell her kids needed stability and constancy and to be able to rely on the adults in their lives, and what the hell was she thinking, having all those men parade through Poe’s life?
In the past, I’d made some gentle suggestions. When Poe was just a little thing, I’d suggested that maybe she needed more sleep and less fast food. “And how many kids have you raised?” Lily had asked, her eyes going cold and hard. She didn’t let me visit them the next day, and I’d been forced to wander around Seattle alone, feeling angry and useless.
I’d offered to give my sister money, loan her money, cover her rent, buy things for Poe. The only answer I ever got was “We’re fine.”
In other words, I had no say in Poe’s life. All I could do was spend this summer with her, and hopefully it would be at least a small positive in her life.
“Want to help me find Gran a boyfriend?” I asked, and she grimaced and brightened at the same time.
“Seriously? That’s so gross. Why would you?”
“I worry about her. She’s been on her own for a long time.” And both Poe and I would be leaving soon. “Come on,” I said, standing and gathering our plates. “I registered on a dating website. I’m screening her men before I introduce her.”
“She told me she thought you were matchmaking,” Poe said, putting her glass in the dishwasher. “When you had that dinner?”
“I was. It didn’t go so well. Someone hit a deer, though.”
“What is it with you and animals? Boomer, watch your back, boy.” She bent and rubbed him behind the ears. First time she’d called him something other than dog.
I wiped down the table, then got my computer. Poe helped herself to a slice of blueberry pie (no sugar, very nutritious, minus the lard I used to make the crust) and sat down next to me.