Page 126 of Brew
“Brew,” Erica scolds. “We had that talk a little while ago.”
“It’s not the birds n’ the bees,” I defend. “It’s about how teenage boys think. Since we’ve never met this mysterious friend she learned sign language for, one might think that a little suspicious.”
“To be honest,” Olive says, clearing her throat. “He’s a little scared to meet you, I think.”
I crack my knuckles. “What for?”
Olive slaps me on the arm, shaking her head. “Exactly that.”
“Brew, behave.” Erica runs a hand through my hair. “But Olive, Brew has a point. You two spend a lot of time together studying, and he’s never been over here.”
“That better not be code for makin’ out,” Brew mutters. “Or I’ll be makin’ sure thisZacharycharacter finds out which way the human knee doesn’t bend if he touches you.”
“Oh, my god.” Olive pinches the bridge of her nose. “So not doing this.”
“Invite him over for dinner,” Erica suggests. “Then we can meet him as a family.”
“Mom, that’s so not cool.”
I cock a brow. “Thisfriendwho you claim isn’t a boyfriend should be the one comin’ over here to introduce himself.”
“Like I said, he’s a little… intimidated.” Olive winces.
“Yeah, that doesn’t fill me with hope,” I say. “He should be man enough to face your mom and me, especially with all the sign language you’ve been learning for his benefit.”
“Fine, I’ll ask him,” Olive sighs. “Just don’t… don’t be your usual self.”
I stare at her. “Excuse me?”
“Brew, come on, you’re rivaling Tag in the Grump of the Year award.” Olive rolls her eyes like that should be obvious.
“Olive,” Erica laughs. “I’d go with flattery.”
I point at Erica. “Listen to your mother, she talks sense.”
I’m not gonna lie, I do have a protective surge over her, over both of my girls. It’s my job to protect them, and I don’t care if Zachery is just a teenager, I wasn’t kidding when I said I want to meet him. Once I lay eyes on him, we can have a man-to-man chat. Then I can tell him how things are gonna be should he want to call Olive his girlfriend, because Erica and I weren’t born yesterday.
Why do teenagers think they’re so stealthy? I guess we all did at their age.
I want to be the kind of father figure Olive can look up to. Something to measure against when she gets older. I’m not dumb enough to think girls and boys her age aren’t full of hormones, but she’s suffered so much in her young life already, I don’t want anybody to hurt her. That’s my job as the man of the house; to keep her safe.
Frankly, I take the job with pride.
I look across the table as Erica sits down, a hot mug of coffee in her hands. I love this time as a family. We eat at the table every night, talking about our day; something I’ve never done before. Erica insisted on it initially, and I was skeptical, but now I look forward to it. We don’t allow phones; Olive received one recently on her birthday, and we don’t allow interruptions. It’s family time.
“You okay?” Erica mouths from across the table.
I smile, nodding slowly. “Perfect.” I mean every single word.
I walk into the bedroom, then stop in my tracks. “Erica?”
She’s sitting on the bed, with something in her hands. She looks up at me, and it’s then I notice she’s been crying.
“What’s wrong?”
She wipes her tears. “I’m-uh, nothing’s wrong.” Tears roll down her face, and I panic.
“You’re cryin’.”
