Donna hopped off the bed and headed to the kitchen. I followed her smoothing out my skirt and tucking a strand of hair back behind my ear. I wanted to look presentable. That was what I told myself, anyway--it had nothing to do with the fact that the way Thom looked made my heart flutter a little.
He had strong arms, from the construction work he took care of all day, and slightly overgrown hair. My own father would have snorted at his deep brown curls, called him some cruel name, but I secretly thought they looked nice. They made him seem gentle, soft around the edges, something that my father would never be. Men were to be men and women were to be women. Any deviation from those rules was only going to end badly for everyone involved.
"So, that’s why--oh, hey, the girls are here." Andrew stopped in his tracks, putting down the beer he had been sipping on. He and Thom were good friends, had been since college. He was probably enjoying the chance to catch up with his companion, where I still felt like I had been booted out of the house for no good reason. I was still fuming that my mother had decided that she got a say in what I did with my own body. Wasn’t that how this was meant to work? My body, my rules? Apparently not.
"Hey, Andrew," Donna greeted my stepfather.
I could have sworn I saw her fluttering her lashes at him. I furrowed my brow. I must have been reading that wrong. There was no way that she was even giving him a second glance.
"It’s so good to see you guys again," Andrew remarked.
I noticed his gaze flick up and down Donna’s taut, lean body. Probably just noticing how much she had changed since the last time they’d seen each other, right? Nothing to get caught up on. I took my seat at the table, and Thom began to serve dinner.
"Would you like a glass of wine, Cindy?” Donna asked, getting to her feet to fetch herself a glass.
I shook my head. "Oh, no, I’m fine," I blurted out.
Thom smiled at me. "Don’t worry, we won’t rat you out to your Mom," he assured me with a wink.
I managed a slight laugh. I wasn’t sure it came across as very sincere, but something about feeling his eyes on me made me feel as though I was going to topple straight out of my seat.
Donna poured herself a generous glass and sat down beside me, taking a sip. I stared at her for a moment. I couldn’t imagine being that comfortable around my family, knocking back booze right there before them. She didn’t seem to give much of a damn. I wondered what that would be like.
I inhaled the scent of the lasagna before me and smiled. Now, food I could deal with. Food, I was good at. That was probably why, in fact, I had the slight pudge around my tummy and a jiggle to my thighs. I had often wondered if they were there because it was safer to put something between me and the men of the world than it was to just let them come at me willy-nilly. Even with a little more weight on me than I would have liked, I still noticed them glancing at me in the street. Sometimes, it felt as though their gazes were slicing right through me, sending something to boiling temperature deep within my belly. And sometimes, just sometimes, I even allowed myself to enjoy it.
I took a bite of the food and let out a groan of enjoyment. "Oh, that’s so tasty.”
I used to pray before every meal, but I had let that trail off as it alienated me more and more from the rest of the high schoolers who already thought I was enough of a kook for not allowing anyone to play spin-the-bottle at my birthday party. Still, every time I ate without prayer, I could hear my father in my head telling me I was doing something wrong. There was a small thrill to defying him, even if he didn’t know it. I hoped it stung him. Hoped that he knew how much I resented him for everything he had planted in my head; the seeds he had allowed to bloom into this twisted-up version of what a good girl should look like.
"Thom’s always been a great cook," Andrew replied. "Though he’s better with his hands if I remember rightly."
"I’m sure you’re great with your hands as well, Andrew," Donna replied, and she smiled at him widely. Her face seemed to light up when she had it turned in his direction, and he returned the favor.
I shifted in my seat. I was sure I could sense something between them but it was nothing more than that, right? Just something? Andrew had been with my mother for nearly seven years. He wasn’t going to let himself get distracted by this barely-twenty-something, was he?
"Anyway, Cindy, what have you been up to since you left school?” Thom asked, turning his attention to me.
I wondered if he sensed it too. Maybe I should have said something, called them out on their flirtation. But what if I was wrong? I had no grasp of how all that stuff worked. Maybe that was just how you were meant to communicate when you were with other adults. I hadn’t been around anyone but my own family for so long I had forgotten.
"Uh, not much," I admitted, pushing the food around my plate. I suddenly felt childish like I was being left out of something I should be a part of. All this time, I had hidden away, and now, I was being reminded of the fact that I was so far removed from the rest of the grown-up world. I didn’t like it.
"You thinking about going to college?" he asked keenly, smiling at me warmly.
I didn’t want to disappoint him by saying an outright but truthful no, so I just shrugged. "I haven’t decided yet," I replied.
Truth was, college had never really sounded like that good of a deal to me. I had never much enjoyed studying when I was in school, only doing the bare minimum to keep my grades up. Though I could have gone on and picked up a good course somewhere, I just didn’t want to.
"Oh, you’d love college." Donna sighed happily. "I really found myself there."
"And a lot of other people, too, from the sounds of it," Thom teased his daughter.
She laughed along with him while I felt myself turning bright red. How could they talk like that to one another? It didn’t make any sense to me, and yet it seemed to come naturally.
"Nothing wrong with that," Andrew remarked, he lifted his beer can to toast her.
She touched her wine glass against it, and flashed him another smile. This time, I knew something was going on. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was yet.
Chapter 3
Secrets at night
When I woke, in the middle of the night, I was sure those sounds must have been coming from inside my head. There was no way they could be real. Right? Maybe I was hearing the end of a dream I’d been having, something like that.
I sat up in bed and tried to perk up my hearing, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Was I going to have to get out of bed and fight a burglar? I had just gotten comfortable; I didn’t want to move.
I heard it again. This time, it was more distinct--a high-pitched moan, followed by a stifled giggle. It sounded like it was coming from the room beside mine, where Donna was sleeping. I furrowed my brow. Maybe she was watching TV because she couldn’t sleep? I could hear a buzzing noise; maybe she was texting someone?
And then I heard something else. A deeper voice. A man’s voice. There was no way it was coming down a line that crystal clear. No,the man had to be in the room with her. But that didn’t make any sense.
I dragged myself to my feet, curious. I stretched, and I heard a moan--this time longer, louder, as though whoever it was coming from was starting to grow in boldness. A shush followed, then more giggling. Okay, I had to see what was going on in there if only for my own sanity and to convince myself that I wasn’t imagining it all.