“How fucked up are you right now?” I ask as I stand alone with Damon in the kitchen of my beach home.
“I’m clean right now,” he lies.
He’s on some random drug, I can tell. He’s drunk as fuck, too - always is. He has never known how to do anything in moderation.
“How much do you want?” I ask with my chilling tone.
“I don’t want anything, son. I just came to see my grandson and meet my son’s girlfriend. Is that so much to ask?”
I
wish this wasn’t some elaborate act. I wish he wasn’t here for all the wrong reasons. Just once, I’d love to sit down and eat dinner with my father and have a normal conversation. It’d be nice for Trip to have a grandfather from my side, but it’ll never happen.
Ash’s parents and Melanie are the only grandparents Trip will ever have. I’m fine with that, too, because I know my father isn’t grandfather material.
“Fine. You can stay and eat dinner with us. Wren will be coming by shortly. You remember Wren, don’t you?”
“Of course. Thank you.”
He heads into the living area, and my eyes follow him as he sits down beside Ash to reach over for Trip. She very uneasily hands him over, but her eyes never leave him, nor do mine.
“Do you mind if I use your shower? I got caught up in a crazy storm. I could use a shower and a place to change,” he murmurs while giving Trip back.
“Third door on the right,” I say while pointing down the hallway, and he smiles before walking off.
***
Ashiara
“Whatever you’re cooking, it smells delicious,” Tag gushes as he walks up behind me, leaning over me to inspect the stove as his hand rests on the small of my back.
He’s been touching me all day. He can’t stand close to me without touching me. It’s confusing the shit out of me, too.
“Your dad seems to be doing well with Trip,” I say to shift the conversation, hoping his touch will move unless he really wants me.
I look over my shoulder as Damon does his best to make silly faces at Trip, hoping for a laugh.
He smiles as he looks, too, and then he reaches down and pulls a bean from the stir-fry to pop into his mouth.
“I’m surprised. This is the longest my father has hung around since I’ve been an adult.”
That’s pitiful. I wish I could kiss his smiling lips right now.
He looks down, his eyes meeting mine, and for a fleeting second, I think he’s about to give in.
“So, Ash, your food is making my stomach growl,” Damon says as he joins us, breaking our intense eye contact.
Tag turns to face him, his body leaning against the counter beside the stove as his side touches mine.
“Thanks,” I say quickly.
“Ash is a great cook. I didn’t know I had so many pots and pans until she moved in.”
I laugh a little, feeling less like his child’s mother and more like we’re a couple. It’s such an awkward setup.
“Need help setting the table?” Wren asks as he joins us.
“I’ve already done it,” Tag says with a smile. “It’s my only way to contribute, since she won’t let me cook.”