Page 18 of Entwined Hearts

“Right,” she says, and I can almost feel her shutting down. “Where are you if you’re not climbing?”

“Bishop.”

“Oh,” she says. “That’s where you’re from, right?”

A tightness pulls my insides into a knot. “Yeah.”

“Hey, Jo and I are talking about a trip to the Buttermilks. If it comes together, do you want to meet up?” she asks.

The Buttermilks are a climbing area made up of house-sized boulders, glacial deposits left behind from the last ice age, and are the reason I became a climber. They’re also practically my backyard.

“Hell, yeah,” I say while the desert blasts past my window.

There’s a pause, as if she wants to say something more. “Well, I better let you go,” she finally says.

I wince at these words, but I do my best to comply.

I spend the last hour of the drive thinking about seeing Anya again, on my turf. So many things I could show her—my favorite climb, the hot springs. Then I think about being half-naked with her in a thermal pool, her hair pulled off her delicate neck, and all theotherthings I could show her. It goes downhill from there.

I shouldn’t think about her like this. She’s just been dumped, for crying out loud. She needs a friend, not some jerk with a hard-on. Though I realize I’m sporting a stiffy just thinking about what I’m not supposed to be thinking about. I groan. She just looked so good. Though…she always looks good.

My small home sits on a cul-de-sac in a neighborhood with identical fifties-style ramblers. When we moved back six months ago, I bought Paige a house while I rented this place. It would be easier financially if I lived with Paige, but after three years of that in Lejeune, I decided I needed space. And we’re not worried about Scott. At least not right now.

Our grandparents still live here, which was the biggest draw for Paige. The downside is our dad is also still here. Paige handles him better than I do. She points out she wants Maddy to know her grandpa. While that sounds wonderful, I don’t allow him to be alone with her, or Paige for that matter. I’ve learned the hard way that people don’t change. They just get better at hiding their flaws.

* * *

That Friday night, I’m setting the table when my father walks through the front door. I stiffen. If it were up to me, he’d never darken her door again.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, returning to the kitchen to check the boiling pasta.

“Where’s Paige?” he asks.

I blow across the wooden spoon, then taste the noodle. “Giving Maddy a bath.”

He stands there with his hands in his pockets, jingling the spare change he always keeps while his watery eyes sweep the room, no doubt ticking off all the things wrong: toys not put away, window shade in need of fixing, son in need of upgrading.

Just then, I hear the water draining from the bathtub.

A minute later, Paige peeks around the corner, holding a wet Maddy wrapped in a towel, her wild ringlets loose about her round face. “Grampy!” Maddy says, reaching for him. But Paige whisks her away.

“You want to give me a hand?” I ask my dad.

He raises his eyebrows like he’s going to object, but then he steps into the kitchen.

“Grab waters for everyone,” I say, stirring the sauce. “Milk for Maddy.”

My dad tries to make it look like he belongs in Paige’s kitchen, but his motions are awkward. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, looking for the usual signs, but he’s sober. He tries to use a regular glass for Maddy. “No, her cups are down there,” I say, tapping a drawer with my toe as I lift the pasta from the stove to drain it.

“She’s four, for chrissakes,” he mumbles. “She shouldn’t need this.” He digs for a matching lid.

Maddy shouldn’t need to sleep with her light on, either. “Dad,” I warn. “Don’t.”

As he carries the drinks to the table, Maddy comes running out of the hallway dressed in her navy-blue rocket pajamas. She crashes into one of my dad’s legs and squeezes.

“Watch it!” he growls as water spills over the side of one of the glasses.

But Maddy doesn’t seem to notice. She waits for him to set the drinks down, then grabs his hand. “Play with me, Grampy,” she says, leading him to the living room.

---