Breakable
Page 56‘When I texted and you didn’t answer, I guessed.’
She angled her head back and looked up at me. ‘You’re a good guy, Landon.’
I’m not, came the automatic thought.
She leaned closer, eyes open, and pressed her lips to mine. Just a brush – tentative and testing. She pulled away only inches, and our breath mingled. I leaned forward, an inch at a time, and she didn’t back away. I kissed her as she’d kissed me, cautiously, slowly, lips only, neither of us closing our eyes.
‘Melody?’ We jerked apart – her mother’s voice was close, right outside the fort’s walls.
I lay flat on my back while she rose to her knees, her hand pressed to the middle of my chest, the better to feel my heart pounding. ‘Yeah, Mama?’
Her mother sighed, exasperated. ‘Come inside, now. You can’t be out here by yourself. It isn’t safe.’ Melody glanced down at me as her mother continued, ‘Also, Clark is now calling the landline, since you aren’t answering your cell.’
Her chin came up. ‘Did you tell him to eat shit?’
‘Melody Ann Do–’
‘Do you know what he did, Mama? How humiliated I am?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ She turned to back down the ladder, whispering to me, ‘Wait five minutes before you leave. And thank you.’
I was working with Dad the next day – he’d booked a family of four for an all-day excursion of fishing and sightseeing. They were standing at the mouth of the dock when Dad and I pulled up. One girl, about my age, was scowling, arms crossed over her chest. Another one, around Carlie’s age, was bouncing foot to foot, her face flush with excitement.
‘Holy shit,’ I said under my breath, already feeling grouchy.
‘Can it,’ Dad said, directing a courteous look towards the four of them. He wasn’t ever outgoing, so it wasn’t like a night-and-day transformation, but his boatside manner was polite and patient, even when explaining and demonstrating the same things a million times.
I hadn’t heard from Melody – but that was no surprise. It had only been eight hours since I jumped down from her fort platform and walked home, so high from her kiss that I could hardly sleep.
But I’d have no cell service until we docked tonight, plus a bitchy teenaged girl and a hyper younger one to deal with. I predicted a long, miserable day.
I was right, but not necessarily for the reasons I’d assumed. The kid actually listened to my instructions and made the biggest catch we’d had all year – though hooking a big one is mostly luck and boat placement, not the skill of the guy with the pole. No one mentioned that shit to her. Dad’s motto: ‘It’s our job to make sure the client thinks it’s all him.’ He helped her reel it in while her parents cheered.
The older girl had straightened up off her parents’ car when I got out of the SUV, pulling on her earrings, fiddling with the strings on her cut-off shorts, fidgeting with her hair – putting it up and taking it down. That shit continued all day. She was glued to me, too, asking idiotic questions about my tats – which I’m not in the habit of explaining to anyone, especially not random strangers – and using those enquiries as an excuse to touch them. She wondered what kids who lived here did for fun, eyeballing me like she expected me to invite her along to do whatever that was – and I mean whatever that was. Most awkwardly: she took pics of me with her phone. I suspected she was texting or posting them and felt weirdly violated.
That boat felt more confining than it ever had, and I thought about people in emergency lifeboats, stuck at sea for days. I would jump ship after seriously contemplating shoving her overboard.
Bumping knuckles with the kid and cold-shouldering sexual-harassment girl, I called, ‘Great fishing, guys!’ to the parents, and then I climbed into the front seat of the SUV.
Me: Hey. Out on the boat all day. Working. No service till now. Just docked.
Melody: I was afraid you were mad because of what I did.
Me: What??
Melody: The kiss.
Me: I’m the opposite of mad, whatever that is. Fort tonight?
Melody: Can’t. Staying over with Pearl. Working tomorrow?
Me: No. Dad will be gone all day. Come over.
Melody: K
Melody’s knock was unsure. Quiet. I rubbed nervous palms down my sun-faded board shorts and took a breath before opening the door.
‘Hi,’ I said, admitting her and closing the door behind her. Locking it.
‘Hi,’ she said, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.
She followed me to the kitchen, where we sipped at sodas and made sandwiches we nibbled but didn’t eat. We barely spoke.
Finally, she cleared her throat. ‘You said that you’d draw me, once. Want to do that?’
I nodded. ‘Sure. Yeah.’ We stuck the dishes in the sink and I opened the pantry door and clicked on the overhead lamp. ‘Where do you want –?’
‘In there is good,’ she said. ‘If that’s good for you.’
I hope she didn’t expect an answer to that question, because every-fucking-thing about this day was good for me.