Snack (12 page)

“I know now why we never talked about her. Daddy, the first time I went to visit, she didn’t know me at all. The second time she thought I was her, and she asked me how you were doing. She actually said, ‘How is Gil? How are my children?’”

My dad presses the back of his knuckles against his closed eyes and swallows. Then clearing his voice he says softly and sincerely, “Minnie, I never wanted to divorce her, I was… we were so in love, but after she got so sick and the doctors told me she’d never get better, never get out, I thought maybe, just maybe I’d be lucky enough to fall in love again… and now I have. Is it OK with you?”

I’m shocked and pleased and happy for him. I fling myself into my his arms. “Of course it’s OK. It’s better than OK. It’s terrific. Congratulations!” I can’t help but think about my mother. I never really had her, but now I’ll have a new mother. Someone that’s been a de facto mother to me without me ever acknowledging it.

Then my selfish thoughts fly to the fact that I will also have a new brother. Well, stepbrother.

Instead of Snack coming over to have his beard trimmed, Dad suggests I go back with him to Colette’s house and drop him off. Then I can have the El Camino for the rest of the day and tonight.

When we arrive, with Wookiee in tow, I’m greeted like a long lost relative, or rather, Wookiee is. Fifi and Aiden immediately get on their knees to greet him as he prances up to them, more than willing to suck up their adoration. Dad guides them all out of the living room and into the family room.

I’m about to join them when a bare foot Snack rounds the corner wearing a Stanford hoodie and jeans. He looks sleepy and tousled like he was taking a nap. I’m instantly attuned to my body reacting to how sexy and at ease he looks.

Snack runs his hand through his hair, yawns, and says, “Hey, I didn’t expect you. I thought I’d go over to your house after Gil came back.” Snack tilts his head, raises his eyebrows, and shrugs. “Sooo, what do you think?”

I’m confused for a moment. What do I think? About what? Then it hits me. Oh, what do I think about my dad and his mom?

“I think it is great. I had no idea.”

“Neither did I ’til I showed up here with the kids. It was pretty obvious they were together when I caught them making out against the kitchen counter.”

“Oh, no.” I try to push the visual from my mind.

Snack nods and makes a faux horrified face. “Oh, yes!

“Why didn’t you tell me last night?” I scold.

“It wasn’t my news to tell.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“Hey, how about that trim?” Snack runs his hand over his unkempt beard as he approaches me.

“Sure.”

“I know it doesn’t look like it, but I did wash it this morning.” He takes my hand and walks me to the bathroom.

“You’re in luck. My dad still had the scissors I used to use to cut the guys’ hair when they were younger.”

When we enter the bathroom, Snack pulls his hoodie over his head and hangs it on the hook on the back of the door. He shuts the door all the way, closing us in. He has a white T-shirt on underneath. It’s fitted and I can make out the contours of his biceps, shoulders, firm chest and slim waist. If I hadn’t gulped a couple of times I probably would’ve drooled. The bathroom is a relatively small space, and I can’t seem keep my eyes off his body. When I finally do look up, I feel myself flush.

“What?” Snack smirks.

“Oh.” I giggle awkwardly. Snack caught me staring. “Um… so, sit down…” I point to the toilet seat. Snack does as he’s told. After retrieving the scissors from my bag and placing them on the vanity, I drape a towel around Snack’s shoulders. Just as I’m about to step away he grabs my wrists and places my hands on his chest. I inhale sharply upon touching him. The zing is so strong I catch myself wondering if he’s a human defibrillator.

Snack wraps his hand around the back of my neck, bringing my face down to look me right in the eyes. “Have I told you how happy I am that you ca… that you’re here?” Snack says in a low voice.

“Yes, you did.”

Snack pulls me down closer and gives me a soft kiss on one corner of my mouth, and then the other, lingering a bit longer with the second. He retreats a hair and is about to kiss me again right on the lips. He is a fraction of a centimeter away when my fingers flex into his chest and I push away.

“No, sir.” I wag my finger at him. He tries to pull me back, but I brace my hand on his shoulder. “We’ll never leave this bathroom if you keep that up.”

By some miracle, I manage to keep my cool and my hands off Snack long enough to trim his mustache and beard to a more manageable closer to the chin length. Less ZZ Top, more coffee house patron. Seems appropriate for someone partially raised in one. But keeping my hands to myself, doesn’t mean I can’t take every opportunity to brush against him with the back of my hand, straddle his thigh to get at the right angle or graze his arm with my breast. Snack let’s out low growls with each “accidental” touch.

Beard trim finally complete, I announce. “There! All don—”

Snack snatches the scissors from my hand, carefully places them on the vanity, and while slipping the towel from his shoulder, he pulls me down so that I’m straddling him. His hardness is immediately against my warmed core. I run my fingers through his beard and then his hair, enjoying the thick, plush silkiness of them both. Snack sighs and his whole body sags. I sense the tension floating off him as I press myself into him—my chest against his, my thighs at his hips—and then gyrate.

Our lips crash into each other with ever more urgency. Snack runs his tongue along the seam of my lips, entreating me to open for him, which I do without resistance. Our tongues find one another and dance so naturally. We occasionally stop to allow for a bite of a lower lip. I move my hands from his hair down to his hard, sculpted shoulders and biceps. Snack shakes his firm grip of my body to cup one of my breasts. When he rakes his thumb across my pebbled nipple, I moan. Perhaps a little too loudly.

“Snack,” I say between kisses.

“Huh?” he replies, breathless.

“You live up to your name. Fucking delicious.”

“I can’t wait to find out how you taste, Min.”

That. Right There. That’s classic Snack! Completely plain words, dripping full of sex.

I’m ready to rip off my clothes right in the guest bathroom and let him find out. I wonder how his beard will feel. Down there.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Snack kisses my neck between every few words.

I nod and say SWCO at the same time he does. We both laugh into our kisses and get lost in the feeling of being together again when, like tiny clairvoyants knowing something is going on, the kids pound on the bathroom door.

“Daddy, are you in there?”

I jump in his arms, but Snack holds me to him.

There’s more banging on the door. “What. Are. You. Doing? Come Out!” Fifi’s little voice sounds irritated.

“Minnie, there seems to be a disturbance in the Force.” He winks. A Star Wars reference—perfect. The guy has learned. Then he directs his comments to the door. “I’ll be right out, guys.”

Snack rests his forehead on my shoulder. I can feel his breath like a hot breeze on my breasts. “Aaaaah! I’m going to lose my mind, if I can’t be alone with you soon.”

I laugh because he’s never said truer words.

I drive myself home in the El Camino and arrive a horny mess. I’m seriously considering using the toothbrush or shower massage at this point. I decide to wait and take it all out on Snack on our date. I have a feeling from our powder room make out; he’s probably feeling the same way right now. Our chemistry is real.

No so with Henry. After last night and today in the bathroom with Snack, it has become abundantly clear to me. I need to break things off with Henry.

Wookiee is staying over with Dad, Colette, and the kids tonight so I’m all alone in my childhood home. In order to occupy myself—and keep my hands out of my pants—I start packing up my bedroom. There isn’t much left. Apart from my bed there is only a few drawers and shelves to clean out. Mostly books, knickknacks, and boxes of memories. While going through one of them I run across a picture of Snack and me from prom. We were so young and in love, dressed in our formal clothes. It makes me wonder what I should wear tonight. Finding my phone, I shoot Snack a text.

Minnie: I forgot to ask where are we going?

Snack: I’m not telling you.

Minnie: Well, what should I wear?

Snack: Something I’ll like.

Minnie: Oh!

Snack: Bring a warm coat. I have a surprise. Only 3 more hours!

I chew my lip rereading his texts. Something he’ll like? And a warm coat? What in the world are we doing tonight? What do I have that he would
like
? I abandon my packing and dig through my weekender. I hope I brought something that will work. By the time I get to the bottom of it I’m pretty sure I have it nailed! I’m so excited I start getting ready even though Snack won’t be here for quite awhile.

I take a bath, partially because I love the tub at this house and partially to avoid the temptation of the shower massage. The bath allows me time to relax and think and pamper myself. After pulling my hair up high in a pony, I use some of the designer shower gel I brought with me and whip up a mountain of bubbles. I shave every possible place I think Snack might see—or touch—and then I lean back and close my eyes. A brief thought of Henry and our apartment comes to mind, but exits just as quickly. My mind and body seem to be fully centered on tonight and what it will hold.

After luxuriating for quite a while in the tub, I get out, dry myself, and then place a small dab of perfume on every pulse point I can think of: my wrists, my neck, my cleavage, behind my knees. For good measure, even though I’m not sure it’s a pulse point, I put a dot right below each of my hipbones.

My outfit is all planned so I fix my hair, cajoling the stick straight stuff into my usual long bob, but with a bit more curve and texture. I keep my makeup simple but sexy.

Fortunately, by some miracle in my hurried packing, I somehow managed to throw in a matching bra and panty set. They aren’t black or lacy or fancy at all. They are nude with satin banding of the same color and a small bow between the cups of the bra and another at the top of the back of the panties. I hope Snack wants to see them. I hope he
likes
them!

“I love you.” The words just pop out of my mouth.

Not at any special time. Just after making out in Snack’s basement. Two days before I’m about to leave for college. I didn’t intend for them to slip out, but they did.

Snack’s response? “I know.”

Very Han Solo of him, I must say, but then he got very quiet, took three slow deep breaths, and said, “Sometimes, I think I miss her.” Miss her? Miss who? Charlotte? Wait, what?

Am I really hearing this? All I can say is, “What?” Then I start fucking crying!

Snack, in a crappy attempt to clarify, tells me again, “I miss her.”

I’d always been able to talk to Snack when we’re alone. Never any awkwardness. But when he said he missed Charlotte right after I confessed my love for him, a wall went up with the rapidity of a Jedi waving his hand. I could see him talking to me, but the message wasn’t coming through. This didn’t make sense.

I stand and promptly walk to the door, straightening my clothes as I do. He basically just broke up with me. “I
know
? I just told you I love you and you say you know? Then you tell me you miss Charlotte in the same breath? When I said, ‘What?’ it wasn’t because I didn’t understand,” I snap.

Snack scrambles to his feet and approaches me. “I don’t know if I really miss her. I… I just feel guilty about her dying… And college is starting…” Snack’s voice has a bit of an edge when he says his final words. “Besides, you’re leaving me anyway…”

We’ve never talked about what would happen once we went to college. Me to Middlebury in Vermont, him to Northwestern. Is he breaking up with me because of Charlotte or college? Shit, I’m confused.

“Are you breaking up with me?” When he just looks at me, I huff, turn and spit my thoughts at him, “Now? You’re doing this now?” I hammer the thought in my head at how cruel he’s being. “You’re breaking up with me because I’m going to college? You’re going away, too!”

Snack stares at the floor in front of my feet. “You’re going far away—across the country. I’m just moving fifty miles. I just can’t stand the idea of you so far away.”

Heaving sobs shake my body. “So, you’re breaking up with me? Just like that? We aren’t even going to discuss this?” This is
not
the moment I was expecting after saying I love you. “I gotta go before my fucking eyes get too puffy to drive.”

Reaching out toward me Snack says softly, “Let me drive you home.”

I pull away from him. “No, I’ve got to get used to not having you…” I stifle a sob. “Not having you around.”

“
You
are the one leaving!” Snack shouts. I can’t tell if he’s angry or frustrated or what.

I give it right back to him. “And
you
are the one breaking up!”

Snack shakes his head. “We will never be broken up. Ever.”

“What the fuck does that mean? Whatever! We’ll be ‘friends,’” I say angrily with air quotes. I take in a huge breath. I can’t stay here and listen to any more of this, but I refuse to let him see me fall apart, and I’m really about to fall apart. Sarcasm drips from my voice when I tell him, “I’ll send you Christmas cards.” The tears are going to overwhelm me soon.

“And Snack, when you get those Christmas cards, you should know it’s not just a Christmas card. When you get it you should know, someone remembers you. The you I thought you were, not the coward you are in this moment! My heart is fucking broken! I never in a million years thought you’d do this to me! I thought you loved me… I thought—”

I press my palms against my eyes, hard and then turn and leave, whispering to myself, “You were my best friend. You were supposed to be the one.”