“Hmm,” I say, pulling her to the couch. “In order to answer that, I’d first have to know all the things I can do for you.”
I strip off my jacket and hoodie, then stretch on the couch and pull her to me. She fits perfectly into all the curves and valleys of my body and I just lay here, soaking her up.
She kisses my neck and wriggles her body so there’s no part of me that’s not in contact with her. “A car could bring me home,” she says, looking into my eyes, “but a car could never be home.”
We sink into each other and as the clothes come off and our bodies take over, I know she’s right. No matter where I am with Addie. I’m home.
Epilogue
Addie
I run to the door when I hear the rumble of Marcus’s truck, and when I yank it open, he’s just climbing out. The cold April thunder squall has passed, but the pavement is still wet and the sky is gray.
But nothing can darken my mood.
Marcus called Tuesday to tell me he scored a teaching job for next fall. It’s just up the road from here in Pleasanton, and they also need a boys’ swim coach. What he doesn’t know is that we have more to celebrate. I haven’t even told Dad my news yet. I want them to hear it together…maybe give them something to bond over.
I go to him and he folds me into his arms. “Hey. I’ve missed you.”
He smiles, but before he kisses me, he glances at the apartment to be sure we don’t have an audience. “So, I was thinking about this Chinese place in Berkeley that serves eel for our celebratory dinner.”
“Eel,” I say, my face scrunching.
He tips his head at me. “Or we could go for crabmeat pizza. I saw a place in Palo Alto that serves it.”
“Not every meal has to be a bucket list food,” I say.
“So, what do you want, then?”
I shrug. “Italian, maybe?”
He nods and starts guiding me back to the door I left hanging open. “That works. And then we can go for wheatgrass smoothies after. Brenda’s been telling me I need one.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. It’s your party.”
I feel him stall as we step through the door and he sees Dad on the couch, but then he moves into the room behind me. Becky stands from where she was sitting and pulls him into a hug. “It’s sort of silly that we both have to drive all the way to San Jose to see each other,” she says when she pulls away.
She’s been here more and more over the last few months, always just stopping by when she’s in town on a “business call,” but I hear her and Dad talking, and when she was here last week and they said we were going out for dinner, I pretended not to be feeling good and stayed home.
I still don’t know how I feel about what happened with them, but something has shifted for the better in Dad over the last months. He’s more himself than I’ve seen him since our trip to Europe. Some of it is our family counseling sessions. We’ve worked out a lot of our guilt issues, each shouldering our share, but also realizing part of the blame lies with Mom. But I also think his change is because of Becky.
“We’ll have to get a burger at Sam Hill sometime,” Marcus tells her.
“We’re going out for Italian. You guys want to come?” I ask.
“Tony’s?” Dad asks, and I nod. Exactly the reason I chose Italian. He can’t resist Tony’s lasagna.
He splits a glance between me and Marcus. He’s still not okay with us, but Becky has managed to talk him down, so now he tolerates Marcus’s visits.
“Lasagna sounds perfect on such a damp day, Bruce,” Becky says. “Don’t you think?”
He nods and gains his feet. “I’ll drive.”
When we get to Tony’s, there are people milling around the sidewalk waiting to be seated. We walk in and the owner, Tony, a man so immense I’d totally believe he is as wide as he is tall, gives Dad a clap on the back. “How many of you?” he asks, looking over our group.
“Four,” Dad answers.
“Got just the thing,” he says, grabbing menus and leading us to a table near the window that the busboy has just finished setting up. The perks of being regulars.
“Thanks, Tony,” Dad says, pulling a chair out for Becky.
Tony cuffs him on the shoulder. “What? I make my oldest customers wait?”
We order drinks and Becky and Marcus open their menus. Dad and I just smile at each other, already knowing what we want.
Once our drinks come and we’ve ordered, I take a deep breath. “So you know we’re celebrating Marcus’s new job, but I also have some news.”
Marcus’s eye widen expectantly.
“Yes…?” Dad says, much more warily.
I look at him and realize from the look on his face that his trepidation is because he thinks I’m pregnant or something.
“It’s good,” I say, holding up my hands. “Or really, amazing.”
“Go on,” Becky says.
“You know I applied for pretty much every scholarship I could find,” I say.