Page 58 of White Hole

Snatching my hand back, I turned to face the road. His entire demeanor went grumpy again. “Sorry. I just wanted to get to know you,” I said quietly.

George’s jaw clenched. Reaching across the truck with his huge arm, he grabbed my hand and pulled it to him again. “My dad’s a fucking asshole. I hate him. My mother’s kind of wasted away Miss Havisham style. My youngest brother’s a drug addict that was sent to military school. My middle brother has followed in my father’s footsteps. Like the guys were saying on Halloween, yes, I had way too many stepmothers growing up. I’ve had to take care of my family because no one else would.” He glanced over at me to make an impact of his last statement. “Again, my father’s an asshole.”

I watched the side of his face for a long time, thinking about everything he had relayed. George had been through a lot.

“You have an asshole father? I can relate,” I said.

“Did your father beat your mother and cheat on everyone he’s been with, too?”

A quick exhale left my mouth and my heart hurt for him. “Oh… No. He’s not that kind of asshole.” I rubbed his hand with my thumb. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything. No reason to be sorry.” Almost undetectably, he said, “It’s my fault.”

“George! How can you say that? Of course, it’s not your fault.”

“Just drop it. We’re almost there.”

My mind raced with a million things to say or not say and questions to ask or things to do, but it all seemed so inadequate. We pulled into a wooden boathouse leaning over the water. A large blue neon sign read “Lees on the River” with a flashing fish next to it. As soon as he parked the truck in the parking lot, I unbuckled and jumped across the truck to sit on him, straddling his lap. I gripped my thighs tightly around his waist and my arms around him, burrowing my face into his neck.

George sat still and stiff for a moment. Then, as if some ice cap melted, he gathered me into a bear hug tightly, burying his face into my hair. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath, and I could feel his heart beating strongly against my own ribcage. We held each other like that for a long time until he cleared his throat, breaking the silent, cold air around us.

“You hungry?”

Sitting back on his lap, I scanned his face, checking to make sure he was okay. “Yep.”

Staring into my eyes without moving, he leaned forward to lightly place his soft lips against mine. He opened the door, pulled me tighter to him, and stepped out of the truck before setting me down. We traipsed across the cracked asphalt to the wooden house made of graying cedar. The sun was setting over the water, creating a red haze that made it look like it was on fire.

“Red sky at night…” I murmured.

“Sailor’s delight.” George finished, looking at the scene with me. I smiled, pleased he got my reference.

The interior of the restaurant opened to a long, distressed bar fronted with grayed bricks and a barback filled with colorful liquors. One end of the restaurant opened to glass doors through which extensive wooden decks sat over the water. The enclosed patios were lined with white twinkle lights and space heaters.

“Inside or out?” the host asked as we walked in. George looked at me.

“Outside, I think,” I answered.

George nodded. “My lady wants outside.”

As we made our way across the red vinyl floor, the scents from the kitchen wafted to my nose and made my stomach growl. Fortunately, the decks outside were cozy and not cold, though the weather had been quickly hastening towards winter. After placing our drink orders, George looked quickly at the menu before setting it down.

“They have good catfish and beer cheese here.”

“Okay, that sounds good.”

Once we had our drinks, I planned to change the heavier subjects for something lighter, figuring George had given enough of himself on the drive there. Before I could ask which TV shows were in his top three of all time, George interrupted my thoughts.

“Kinsley, I didn’t have a good childhood. I grew up trying to take care of my mother and brothers because my father… because of my father. He brought in lots of women, and they weren’t always nice to me.” He sipped his water and stared at me pointedly. I think I was supposed to interpret what he meant.

“D-did he beat you, too?”

“Nah, not really. The women, well, one woman he brought home… she wasn’tnice. She caused me a lot of problems.”

“Oh?”

George nodded. “Yeah.” He took a big breath as if he were preparing to say something.

The waiter brought over our food. “Here you go! Do you see anything you need? Ketchup? Extra tartar sauce?”

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