Page 48 of Hyde

“Stop that,” I groan, reaching down to help her stand up before shifting to the side so the water can wash my release away.

Reaching back, I grab the soap, but she takes it from me before waving me out of the glass enclosure.

“Go get dressed,” she says, laughing at me, twisting to keep her chest from my view. “Or we’ll never get out of here.”

Leslee

I yank open the door to the room we’re staying in, only to see Mom’s hand raised, prepared to knock.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out, looking uncomfortable. “I didn’t want to rush you, but I wanted to talk to you alone.”

“I love you, Mama,” I say, wrapping my arms around her.

“I loved you before you existed,” she whispers the reply she’s used a thousand times over the years.

Mom’s hands come up to cup my face and I hate seeing the tears in her eyes.

“I’m not ready to let you go yet and have been so angry about…” she confesses to me and I feel her body tense up. “He’s my age, Le-Lee.”

“Come here, sit down,” I let out with a sigh, thankful that I took the time to make the bed, as I pull her into the room to sit with me a moment. “All these years, you—I think more than anyone else have known how I felt about him. No matter that I consider Gemma my sister, or maybe because of that, I couldn’t talk to her or anyone about my feelings because being teased would have cut me too deep.

“I understand that Joe and me might not make sense to others, but I’ve always known that he was my future. You and Dad have talked about it before, I’ve overheard you,” I tell her, still not sure of how to communicate the depth of my emotions. “Hearing you call it acrushdevastated me. I will not apologize for making my move on him when I had the chance, Mom, but I am so sorry for what I said to you. You’ve always had my back, now I need you to again because Dad will be impossible otherwise.”

“Me, having your back, sometimes means having to tell you my concerns—whether or not you like hearing them. And now, it also means I have to let you go,” she fervently whispers, trying to keep the tears from rolling down her face.

“Mom, I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to stay here,” I insist as she draws me in for a hug.

“Christ, I hadn’t even considered you two moving away. I meant that as a mom, I have to trust that I’ve taught you enough to…”

“He likes my lasagna better than yours!” I blurt out, interrupting her before she gets too mushy and she nearly pushes me off the bed in her haste to look at my face again.

“Blasphemy!” she mock screams at me, a smile pulling at her lips as her eyes light up.

“It’s true. And he said that my waffles were the best ones he ever had.” I can’t help but to say that with an air of superiority.

“Say another word and I’ll be sneaking peas into your food for a year!”

“You. Are. A monster!” I teasingly screech back at her, just as my last encounter with peas comes to mind. “Hey! Where’s Joe?”

“Hyde’s with his parents and Gunner in the living room,” she tells me, waving her hand like it’s not a big deal. I spring off the bed and head out with her calling after me not to worry about anything.

I take a deep breath the moment I enter the room to see them sitting around the L shaped sectional. Bree is sitting near Joe, obviously fussing over him, as Dad and Flint sit in awkward silence, watching them from the recliners they’re sitting in.

Joe looks up and smiles at me the moment I come to a halt in the entryway and Dad immediately stands up, holding his arms out for a hug. Turning on my heel, I lean over the back of the couch near the sliding doors to give Joe a kiss, then I motion for Dad to come out to the backyard with me.

He takes a long pull from the drink on the table next to his chair and follows me, closing the door behind him. Dad stands with his back to our audience and I backtrack, stopping an arm’s length away from him so he blocks my face from everyone’s view.

“I can’t believe you did that to him, Daddy,” I say, cringing as my use of ‘daddy’ over ‘dad’ makes me sound like a child. His expression doesn’t shift if he even notices it.

“No matter how upset you are with me,” he starts, keeping his voice low. “I want you to know that not only would I make that choice again, but I will do worse than that if he ever hurts you.”

I always feel like I shrink when I cross my arms over my chest. Dad’s the complete opposite, he looks even bigger. Even in his early fifties, his body is as strong as I always remember him being, his face granite as he looks down at me.

My eyes widen in surprise, more so when I don’t see any room for compromise in his expression. “Did you at least apologize to him?”

“No. And I won’t. Did you apologize to your mother?”

“Yes, because that’s what you do when you fuck up,” I answer, exasperated at his stubbornness. I square my shoulders back, making use of my full height rather than shrinking away from him. “At least, I remember someone teaching me that along the way.”

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