12. Everleigh

Chapter twelve

Everleigh

D arius, because he’s probably the best sport in the history of good sports, and Hans because, well, I’m not exactly sure what Hans is, both sit through the sappiest of chick flicks with us.

We’ve had a full day of exploring the house, using the pool, strolling around outside, and being fed the most delicious meals. I was the one treated to the fourteen-inch beard hair this time. I think it’s an honor to find such a treasure in one’s soup. I really do.

The three of us girls have a real love for syrupy romance, so when Darius suggested we watch a movie to cap off the night, and he left it up to us, the choice was obvious. My mom’s love for them stems from the fact that she married a guy who wasn’t at all romantic, and of course, she wishes things had turned out differently. My dad was little better than a con man, a guy who couldn’t help himself, someone who left us to clean up the mess and pick up the pieces.

Movies are so much better than real life. It’s a universally known fact.

Curled on the couch between my mom and Heather while Hans and Darius work on their bromance on the loveseat—kidding, they’re taking one for the team to let us have the larger, better piece of furniture—it’s not long before my mom and Heather are both bawling, and I’m not far behind.

God, I’ve dreamed about this. About finding my prince charming. Of course, I knew better. Prince charmings are not for the likes of me, and they aren’t for the likes of real life, either. I knew from a pretty early age that dads leave, moms work themselves half to death in order to make ends meet, creepy guys and creditors demand money, power and water can get turned off, and so on and so forth. I know what real life feels like, and I know what it’s like to get a job and work nearly forty hours a week while I’m in high school and still pull off a scholarship because that was the only way I could get into college, and when you’re desperate, you find a way to make it work, even if it means losing a little sleep. I also know what it means to be a second mom to my little sister, and I know that real life means family and sticking together. It doesn’t mean catching any lucky breaks.

Except, this movie feels a lot like my life right now.

Because I did catch one of those breaks.

And it’s not just a break. I got so, so, SO lucky that I married Bradford’s brother instead of Bradford himself. Actually, okay, I guess I technically did marry Bradford. Note to self: Don’t give your future children the same name. It’s pretty confusing and can lead to things like swapping out brides later in life. Anyway, I caught the best break, and I married the best Bradford.

I sneak glances at Darius over my bowl of popcorn for the first half of the movie. He’s so not into this, but he’s watching it for us anyway. He let us pick the movie, even though I’m sure he knew what was coming. He might not have a home theatre, but a seventy-two-inch TV and surround sound bring this early two thousand’s rom-com to life. Unlike Darius, Hans is totally into this.

He’s chowing down on popcorn and is dialed right into the screen. My mom and Heather are also engrossed.

I’m at the end of the couch, and Darius is at the end of the sofa, which means we’re not that far apart because the furniture is at ninety-degree angles to each other. In fact, I could reach out and touch him.

Why the hell did I shove him into the friend zone? Right. Because I’m scared. I’m scared because this wasn’t supposed to get real. It was supposed to be both of us getting something we needed, me catching one hell of a break, and then, that’s it. The movie is over after that. I was going to do something here, get a job or volunteer in something to take up my time, and in six months, I’d be kissing Chicago goodbye and heading back to Philly. I love my mom and my sister so freaking much, so I didn’t expect to have any weird heartstrings getting tugged in the opposite direction.

Darius is so close that when I inhale—if I’m brave enough to really expand my lungs—I can smell his manly, fresh, crisp scent. He’s dressed like he’s going to work even though this is totally casual, but I’ve come to realize he does the whole slacks and button-up shirts thing on a regular basis. I’m not complaining. The man has a fabulous ass. And in those pants, oh my god. Just thinking about it sets my ovaries on fire. Thinking about on-fire ovaries makes me think about kitchens and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Darius’ dark whisky eyes, soft hair, perfect bone structure, and all his muscles.

I’m starting to get uncomfortably hot, so I tune back into the movie, eat my popcorn, and distract myself like the good, responsible, friendly fake wife I am. I’ll freely admit that I like my husband when I didn’t expect to. I think that’s a lot more than what most marriages get because I think it usually goes the other way on that front, but I don’t have to like like my husband.

The movie hits its stride, and I’m lost to it instead of my thoughts, thank goodness.

By the end, my mom and Heather are both still sobbing, and Hans is wiping his eyes while not even pretending he’s not. Darius is looking around the room like he missed something, and I’m the one to jump up and turn the lights on after swiping my hand over my wet cheeks. Who doesn’t love a happy ending, right?

“You have killer sound in here,” Heather points out.

“Thanks,” Darius replies like it’s a compliment, but I know where she’s going with this.

“You know what that means? Because Ev knows what that means.” Heather nudges my mom, who is still doing a face mop-up with a tissue from her pocket. “You know what that means too, Mom.” Then, Heather studies Hans. “And you know what that means, don’t you, Hans?”

“Another death metal dance party that makes the ceiling cave in?”

“Dude, we’re on the main floor, but yeah! Who’s up for it? We can pick music videos and rock out. Oh, wait! We can do teams! I’ll go and get the cat!”

Heather is off and running before any of us can tell her not to involve the cat. Some of us would like to keep our faces from being ripped off. I’m going to make sure the little cow-colored demon feline spawn is on my mom and Heather’s team. They’re always a team because my mom hates dancing, and she needs extra encouragement. She’ll pretty much do anything for Heather; she always has. We both have. And that was long before she got sick. Now, we’re extra liable to fall at her feet or dance our asses off, or do whatever she demands, just to see her smile.

“Teams?” Hans asks in question. “I don’t know about that.”

“Okay!” Heather is back in a flash, holding the wretched beast under her arm. It seriously looks like it’s already contemplating murder, and I know they say that’s a thing with cats, but it’s seriously a thing with this cat. This cat, as Heather said before, is extra. “Okay, teams!” She swings the cat gently in her arms, rocking it like a baby, and it lets out a furious howl but doesn’t scratch her to shreds. “We haven’t even given this guy a name yet because I’m not sure if he is a he or a she. No one has been able to get close enough for validation on that one.”

I take a peek at the back end from under Heather’s arm. The cat makes a sound like it knows I’m doing something I shouldn’t be doing, and it doesn’t like it, and it’s about to use its devil cat ninja skills to kick my ass, so I quickly back up. “I don’t see any furry nads.”

“He could be neutered, you know. He could have been someone’s pet at one point.”

“That’s true.”

“Anyway, we’ll give him or her a name one day. For now, we’ll just call it B&E Cat. Spelled with an actual sign. I think that’s fitting.” That settled, Heather points at my mom and Hans. “Hans gets the prettiest girl in the room. That’s you, mom.” Our mom laughs like a young girl again at that, and it’s so, so, SO nice to see her truly happy. When I left the house, we were all exhausted and wrung out from working so many jobs, being worried about Heather, and being worried about a future when we could never get out from under the weight of the past. “B&E Cat and I will be on a team because I’m the only one whose ass it won’t kick. Darius and Ev, that leaves you guys, but you’re not last and least and all that. You should be on a team because you’re married, and you need to work on your bonding.”

“Gee, thanks, Heather.” She clearly enjoys my undisguised dry-ass tone.

She shakes her head and accepts what looks like an actual kiss from the cat of hot death. “It’s alright. I’ve seen you checking him out, and you’re clearly into him, so why not dance with him?”

If it’s possible for my sister to kill me by blatantly pointing out the truth with zero tact, then it’s going to happen. “I think I’ll take the first statement over that one,” I mumble, sauntering away a few feet while my mom and Hans pair up.

“I’ll be the DJ,” Heather says, picking up the remote. She has to juggle the cat in her arms, but it hooks its paws over her shoulder and watches us all with a yellow-eyed stare of doom while she gets the TV set up. She clicks on some app and opens it, and a few minutes later, she’s got the song lined up.

“That looks like…” my mom trails off, because no, it can’t be.

Heather clicks play and points at my mom and Hans. “Go!”

Yup, it is. It’s country. My mom is frozen in place for a minute in the big living room, but Hans takes up the gauntlet enthusiastically enough. He starts doing the line dance to end all line dances, and my god, it actually looks like he knows what he’s doing.

“Word,” I say, even though Darius doesn’t have social media and doesn’t text like that. He probably has no idea what that means. I edge in a little bit closer while I watch Hans grab my mom’s hands and pull her into the line dance, helping her as he goes. He’s just making up stuff, or is he? Either way, they soon get the hang of it, and my mom is laughing like she hasn’t laughed in years. “I’m deleting my social media crap,” I tell Darius when I get close enough. “I have like eight friends, and I was always too busy for it, so don’t feel bad.”

“Oh, I don’t feel bad. Never cared. Never wanted it. Never needed it.”

“Well, if you’re already rich and living the good life, you don’t actually need it because it’s mostly for people to pretend they’re doing those things.”

He stares at me blankly. “I see. I’m glad I never signed up.”

“There are a few good perks. Like animal videos, but you can watch those anywhere.” I grab my phone out of my back pocket. “Like this one. We can watch it over and over again. I’m pretty sure Heather is going to go next.”

Sure enough, she does. After my mom and Hans step aside, breathing heavily with huge grins on their faces, Heather puts on a ridiculous disco song and takes the floor. My sister would look incredible in a sack, and with her tight jeans and pink hair, she looks like a disco punk queen. She’s so beautiful, and I’m so relieved that she seems happy. I know she’s not exactly healthy, but she’s getting there, and she did assure me that she had more energy than before, which she didn’t expect, and that she truly is feeling better. She’s not just saying it so that we all stop worrying.

For this moment, at any rate, she’s the picture of happiness. She really gets going with B&E Cat, who, surprisingly enough, seems to enjoy being swung around and maneuvered into raising its paw in a disco arc. Up and down and across the body. He doesn’t slash Heather’s face with his meowder weapons of instant death. He stares at her placidly with his or her yellow eyes, and who would have thought that in addition to busting into houses that aren’t his and claiming a family of his own, he loves to dance?

I record most of it. It’s an opportunity that’s too good to miss out on. Heather rocks the song, and B&E Cat might have a future in the performing arts if being a family cat doesn’t work out. Heather is thrilled with him, and at the end, she brandishes the top of his head with kisses galore, which he grudgingly submits to.

She’s a little out of breath, but it doesn’t stop her from clicking the remote and getting our song cued up. I’m tense since I can only guess what she’s going to pick for us.

Sure enough, she does us dirty, and the first strains of an eighties power ballad love song fill up the living room. I want to wither up into prune form and disappear, but Darius is a much better sport. He offers me his hand with a sly grin on his face that promises he’s not going to let me off until all seven minutes or so of the song have been completed.

“May I have this dance, Mrs. Anderson?”

Oh god. My name might be on the new ID Darius arranged, including my Illinois driver’s license, but hearing it being used makes it real. Really real. I slip my hand into his hand because everyone is watching, and I’ve never backed down from a dance challenge before.

Darius doesn’t wrench me up against him. He’s a perfect gentleman, and he holds me at a respectable distance, which isn’t nearly far enough to stop me from instantly combusting from his closeness. His hand guides me from the small of my back, the other one holding mine. We probably look like a chaste couple, but all I can think about is how close he is, how good he smells, the heat of his body, the strength in his hands, how much taller he is than I am, my panties that he had to snatch down from the pot rack that night, his face between my legs in the kitchen…

“You guys are swoonworthy,” Heather remarks as we dance past her. “See? The DJ never steers you wrong.”

I feel my usual blush start, and it matches the fire ravaging the rest of me while Darius’ grin just gets wider. He’s so sure of himself, so easy with whatever steps he’s guiding me through. It feels good—more than good. I don’t know when I close my eyes, but at some point, I do, and I get lost in it. Darius is a great dancer, and I have to wonder what it would be like if this were real. It sure feels that way already. It feels far more than friendly, and I can’t bring myself to hate the feeling. Not one bit. I know all about the usual dangers, pitted roads, potholes, and stop signs, blah, blah, blah. But I still can’t make my chest feel like it’s not going to burst wide open.

It turns out seven-odd minutes go by really fast when you’re having the time of your life, even though you’re not supposed to be. The song ends, and we break apart. Darius bows, and because I’m feeling particularly silly, almost like I’m drunk, I blow him a kiss. Heather hoots, and my mom and Hans clap.

“Well, I should probably get the cat back upstairs. It’s getting late, so I might just stay up there,” Heather mutters, stifling a yawn. It is getting late, and the expression on her face says it’s normal bedtime and not to go off on a worry tangent.

“I’ll join you,” my mom says. “I’m ready.”

“Thank you for the lovely evening,” Hans tells us all. “I particularly enjoyed the movie.” And with a smile, he waves at my mom. “And thank you for the lovely dance.”

“Oh goodness,” Mom says with a laugh. “You’re most welcome.”

“I’m pretty tired too. I’ll come up with you,” I say, although it’s a lie because I feel like I could run ten thousand marathons and still have energy left over. I’m buzzing from the closeness of Darius’ body, and I can’t just shut it off. I know I’m probably only going to sleep approximately five point eight minutes total tonight, but I say my goodnights to Hans while looking him in the eye and then to Darius while not looking him in the eye.

My mom and Heather’s room is just down the hall from mine. Heather stops me before I can tell them goodnight, her hand on my arm. “Hey, I just wanted to say that Darius really is nice. I’m not just giving you a hard time.”

“Okay, yeah, thanks.”

She gives me that look that says I shouldn’t be thanking her for anything. “I also wanted to tell you, and please don’t get choked up and start bawling on me, that none of us know how long we have. That’s token advice, but when you get something like this, it gets a heck of a lot more real.” Of course, I immediately choke up and have to sniffle back the tears that are ready to spill. Heather is still holding the cat, but she grasps my hand in hers and looks at me with her huge blue eyes. At least they’re dry. “If you want to go for it, I think you should. You guys clearly have a spark, and sparks shouldn’t be wasted. Plus, he’s hot and nice, and that’s a rare combo. Oh, and rich. Even rarer.”

“We’re just trying to make things work by being friends. We didn’t expect even that much, so it’s already a bonus.”

Heather clicks her tongue at me and slowly shakes her head like I’m being an obtuse moron.

“Goodnight,” my mom says, putting her hands on Heather’s shoulders. “Your sister will get things figured out, I’m sure. No use rushing a good thing either. Although, for the love of god, Everleigh, we can all tell you have a crush on that man, and he likes you, too. The attraction between you two is sizzling so hot that the rest of the room heats up. We all can see it. You’d be great together. Don’t let him go just because you think you need to be on a timeline or because things didn’t start out that way. You didn’t expect to be friends with him, yet you are. You didn’t expect it to be more, but maybe it could be that, too. Anyway, we’ll all be cheering you on if you decide to make your marriage legit.”

“Two against one.” Heather amends that by lifting B&E Cat’s arm and saying, “Three against one.” She winks at me. “Night, sissy. See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight,” I grumble.

In my room, I change into pajamas and fall into bed. As soon as I close my eyes, I start reliving the dance, followed by every other moment Darius and I have shared since I met him. I thought it would be hard to sleep, but I must have been overtired from all the excitement of having my family here because I could literally feel my body melting into the mattress, which is just the right firmness, my cheek sinking in the world’s softest pillows.

I haven’t been truly happy in a long time either, but tonight, despite the few lingering worries I have about my sister and what this contracted marriage is turning into, I can’t pretend there isn’t a bubble of blissful radiance that surrounds me.