Page 3 of Crush
“Hello? I'm home,” I called out to nobody, my hand blindly reaching along the wall until I found the light switch.
I flicked on the light, and a dagger plunged straight in my heart.
Sitting in total darkness, and on complete opposite ends of the sofa—guilty much?—was my fourteen-year-old daughter, Chloe, and a shaggy-haired boy in baggy clothes.
“Who's this? What's going on in here?” I asked sternly.
“Nothing!” Chloe barked.
“Nothing, huh.” I stole a peek at my wristwatch. It was 10:30 at night. I walked over to the stereo and killed the music. “It's almost your bedtime, Chloe.”
She groaned.
I stepped behind the couch and clapped a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder. “Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“His name is Adam,” Chloe said, adopting that timeless teen affect—the one that sounds like, 'Ugh, oh my God, Dad, you are so embarrassing me right now!'
This Adam character looked like he was a couple grades older than Chloe. I gritted my teeth and extended my hand for a shake. “Hi, Adam, I'm Mr. Ellis.”
Gulping loudly, Adam stuck out his limp, quivering hand. I gave his hand a good squeeze. Not hard enough that he'd yelp out in pain … but hard enough to let him know that an overprotective, hockey-playing father means business.
“H-hi, Mr. Ellis,” he said, quivering like a nervous puppy. “It's nice to meet you.”
“Oh, I bet it is,” I chuckled as I pulled him off the couch and to his feet. “Well, Chloe, it's a school night, so I think it's time for Adam to go home.”
Chloe folded her arms. “Dad …!”
I pulled my car keys from my pocket and jangled them. “Come with me, Adam. I'll give you a ride.”
He raised a skateboard into the air. “This is my transportation, Mr. Ellis.”
“I can't let you ride home so late, Adam. It's dark out. Wouldn't be safe. Plus, I think we need to have a little chat.”
“Okay,” he said in surrender. “T-thank you, Mr. Ellis.”
I set my hand on the back of Adam's scrawny neck and guided the trembling teen to the door. “And Chloe, we'll have a little chat of our own when I get back.”
“Whatever.” With an exaggerated eye-roll, Chloe stamped off to her bedroom.
***
After getting to knowAdam a little better—and giving him a good grilling about his intentions with my daughter—I came home for good.
First, I found the nanny, Estel, asleep in the den. She was wrapped up in a blanket, with a knitting project in her lap and the TV droning in the background.
Asleep again?
I touched her shoulder. “Pst.Estel. Hey. Wake up.”
With a smack of her lips, Estel woke. “Oh! Hello there, Shea, I was just resting my eyes for a minute.”
Yeah, I'm sure.
“Listen, Estel. I caught Chloe with a boy. Unsupervised.”
“Oh—Adam, you mean?”
“Wait, you knew he was here?”
