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Oh, hell no!
I kicked the door, and yelled, “Hey!”
The music stopped, and less than a minute later, the front door eased open to reveal a heavy-lidded Ryan Boyé, shirtless in a pair of red briefs, and from the looks of things, I had interrupted something or had awakened him from a very steamy dream, because ole boy was standing at attention. All of the moisture in my mouth traveled to my core. I shifted my weight on my feet and tore my eyes away from his groin, letting them amble over his muscular stomach and chest and finally settle on his eyes.
He raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”
“Uh-um-uh…your-the music…”
His eyes flickered with recognition. “Oh, man. Did it wake you? I was listening to it and fell asleep and must’ve rolled over on the stereo remote.”
“Oh…didn’t it wake you? It was loud for a few minutes there.”
He reached up and rested his hand on the back of his head. “Yeah, I was kinda out of it. Took me a minute or so to find the remote. I didn’t realize it was under me.”
“Oh, okay. Well, um…just try to keep it down. The neighbors don’t mind calling the police.”
“Yeah, yeah…sorry, again.”
“No problem.”
*****
“…so now he says I can stay until I finish this degree. I’m so relieved.”
Nicky’s words were clear to me, but I just couldn’t focus on them. It’d been three days since the whole loud-music-Ryan-in-his-underwear thing, and my mind was still twisted in knots. My body still reacted to the mere thought of seeing him like that—tall, beautiful, aroused. Aroused for who? Was there someone in there reaping the benefits of what The Maker had so generously gifted him with that night? It really didn’t matter if there was. All that mattered was the singular thought that had plagued my mind since that night.
I wish it was me.
I watched Nicky’s mouth move, and I nodded my head when I saw her raise her eyebrows. I had no idea what I was agreeing to, but my reaction must’ve been appropriate or at least to her satisfaction, because she gave me a smile in return.
I had finally called my mother, took her request for her and Daddy’s anniversary menu, and Nicky was in my kitchen helping me prepare baked ham, macaroni and cheese, green bean casserole and yeast rolls—all my father’s favorites, because that was just what my mom did. She catered to my father, waited on him hand and foot, never argued or disagreed with him, and in return, he took very good care of her. He owned two huge car lots here in town, with other lots all over Tennessee. Daddy was rich and generous. Me and Renee and Nicky and our mother had never wanted for anything…except his time and attention.
And that was why I was impossibly attracted to the wrong types of men, and Renee was married to the wrong man, and Nicky was a ho’. We had all tried, and were still trying, to fill the void of having a father who basically shared an address with us only on his driver’s license. The man was always gone. Always. And when he was home, we all fell over each other vying for his attention. Looking back on my childhood and upbringing, it was actually full of sadness punctuated by instances of happiness, but those instances never involved Daddy. He missed them, and that hurt.
It hurt, because it wasn’t like he was a doctor out saving lives or a soldier deployed overseas. The man sold cars. Car lots close at a certain time of day. His absence was intentional. We all knew it, though we never said it. And we also knew he had other women, likely other families. And that hurt, too. But Mama accepted it, lived life on his terms, and out of respect for her, so did me and Renee and Nicky.
“Angie!” Nicky shouted, her hands on her tiny, barely-there hips. She gave me an impatient look, as if she’d been trying to get my attention for a while. She probably had, because my mind and focus had been everywhere but there in my kitchen with her.
“Huh?” I asked, shifting my eyes from her to the ham I’d been preparing to put in the oven.
“I said, do you think the rolls are done?”
I blinked once, twice, then finally said, “Let me see.”
I checked the rolls, finding them a nice golden brown, and slid them out of the oven. When I turned around, Nicky was staring at me.
“You okay?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Tired, I guess. Been making a lot of videos, doing a lot of editing. I think I wore myself out.” It wasn’t a lie. I had been working hard. But I’d also found it hard to sleep, because my mind kept filling with thoughts of Ryan Boyé and his penis.
“Everything else is ready for the oven, right? I’ll watch the food. Go lie down,” she suggested.
I didn’t protest.
I managed to fall asleep pretty quickly, and four hours later, woke to my house smelling like a holiday gathering. My sister was gone, having put all the food in the refrigerator. She’d also left a note and my mail on the coffee table in the living room.
I sat down and sifted through the mail, most of which was Ryan’s. I sighed. The mailman was really going to have to get his act together, because the last thing I needed was to have to face that man again.
