Abby grew serious and looked up above my head. "My mom and my big sister were killed when I was little. Head-on collision with another driver. Mom was in her Honda that she liked for running us around town while the other driver was in one of those big Fords they used to make—the Expedition, I think? You know, the small tank they made for a while."
"Expedition, Excursion, Excalibur. I forget the exact name, but I know what you mean," I said, lowering my voice to a comforting level while she shared this painful memory. "They were pretty popular for quite a few years a while back. Was the guy drunk?"
She shook her head, tears coming to her eyes. "No, it was still early afternoon, and Mom was coming to pick me up from my Gymboree class. I took that while my sister took her piano lesson at the teacher's house two miles down the road. The driver was a diabetic who was trying to treat his disease through self-medication and trying one of those no-carb diets. He went into diabetic shock behind the wheel of his truck and drifted over into Mom's path. Even though they were both belted in, they hit each other going forty-five each. The crash . . . I don't remember the funerals, but the newspaper clippings Daddy kept said there wasn't much left. And all of it could have been avoided if the guy had known how to eat right for his diabetes. Later on, when I was in high school, Daddy had a small heart attack—too many Sunday breakfasts at Cracker Barrel. That made up my mind, and I decided to go into biology. Later on, I'm going to specialize in nutrition and really work to make sure things like what happened to me don't happen to anyone else."
We fell silent, this time a comfortable one. While my body was aware of the nude young woman in front of me, my immediate desire was not to have sex, but instead to protect her. I held her close and we lay there in silence for a moment.
I saw the glistening drop of the tear that was still on her cheek and wiped it away. "I know that was painful. But I'm glad you’ve used it to fuel your desire rather than dismiss it."
"You have to take the bad things that happen to you and turn them into good things," Abby replied. "That's what Daddy taught me during the years it was just the two of us. Sheesh, I must sound like a total daddy's girl, don't I?"
"You're not the worst I've heard," I said with a smile. "You should have known one of the girls that I went to high school with. Not only was she a daddy's girl, but she had her father wrapped around her little finger too. She was insufferable to deal with."
"Well, you won't have that problem with me," she laughed back. “We butt heads a lot. Still, he’s my daddy. I know, I know, that is supposed to give me all sorts of strange complexes or mental problems, but I seem to be doing all right."
"I'll say." My stomach gurgled, and Abby looked down, patting lightly on my stomach. "I guess I really am hungry."
"So am I," she said. “Do you have something I can put on? I really don’t feel like getting back in my dress already.”
"I'm sure I can find something for you. You could just use a t-shirt of mine. I'm big enough that it might just drop past your hips."
Abby took my offerings and put them on. As she stood up, looking younger and cuter than ever, she started to laugh.
"What?"
“Nothing, it’s just funny. We just met, and I’m already wearing your clothes." She laughed again, looking down at the massively oversized t-shirt and shorts. “By the time breakfast is over, I'm going to be claiming half the bathroom and putting my toothbrush in there."
When I didn't answer, she lowered her eyes, unconsciously crossing her foot behind her heel. I wondered if this was the pose and expression she took when her father chastised her. If so, I was surprised the man was able to deny her anything. She was so adorable. “Sorry. It was just a joke. I don’t mean to sound like I’m already head over heels or anything.”
I laughed. "Trust me, it's a tempting offer. But yeah, let's not get ahead of ourselves, or else your father might have a barrel for me. One belonging to a shotgun."
"I think Daddy would like you. You're the sort of guy that he likes, confident and real."
I wasn't so sure of that, but I wasn't going to tell Abby my misgivings as I went to the kitchen.
"You did save my life, after all. That has to count for something. Dane, what exactly did you do in the military, anyway? Were you some kind of platoon leader?"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "With this ink? The commissioning boards would never even take a look at me. Besides, they like those with college educations to become officers. No, I was just your run of the mill, eleven bravo grunt.”
I brought over the cheese and crackers. I'd found some grapes in the fridge and put them on the plate as well.