Page 69 of The Man Next Door
“It will happen,” she’d reassured me. “When you meet the right boy.”
I stared down at my bedspread, quickly checking my watch. It was one o’clock… one hour to go until I would see Gavin. I couldn’t wait.
“So what are you up to for your birthday?” Izzie asked.
“Uh…” I faltered, but was quick on my feet. “My dad is taking me to the bookstore.” This was the perfect cover story. I knew Izzie had no interest in books and wouldn’t ask to tag along.
“That’s nice.”
I nodded. “Yep.”
I’d come to terms with the fact that my dad and brothers had completely forgotten about my birthday, too wrapped up in their own lives to care. It was straight out ofSixteen Candles, minus the crazy Asian foreign student. And it wasn’t the first time.
“Speaking of which,” I told her, “I should get dressed.”
She rose. “Yeah, I actually need to get home. Mom and I are making pies.”
I smiled at the thought of Adele in her purple apron, hair up in a messy bun, covered in flour. She was a messy baker. I’d caught the baking bug from her, when years before, she’d taught me how to make chocolate chip cookies. I’d been amazed by how a few simple ingredients could transform into delicious cookies. Before Adele, I thought cookies only came in boxes from the store, pre-made. And these freshly baked cookies were so much tastier. They melted in your mouth. From that moment on, I was addicted to baking. Unlike Izzie, who couldn’t have cared less, I was mesmerized by every step of the process. Over the years, Adele gave me countless aprons. I was only seven when she gave me my first one, a pretty pink flower covered tiny smock. I bursted with happiness every time I wore it. I still have it today, and it breaks me every time I hold it in my hands.
“Your mom makes the best pies,” I told her, stating the obvious. “You better bring me one.”
“Of course… it’s your birthday, girl.” She quickly scurried out of my bedroom with a wave. “I’ll be back later,” she called out from the front door.
“Great,” my dad scoffed.
I held up my Garfield mug and smiled.
It was sweet of Izzie to come over and give me a birthday gift, but what I was really excited about was Gavin. We agreed that I would drop by his place at noon. Communication was tricky since he couldn’t call me, and we couldn’t be seen together. We were limited to email communication which Gavin wasn’t too particularly fond of, and I was always a little paranoid that I’d get caught. Sharing a laptop with my brothers, I worried that they’d snoop on my email, that one day I’d forget to log out and they’d find some incriminating messages and tell Dad.
The fact that he was so inaccessible made him all the more sexy in my eyes. Perhaps I enjoyed the thrill of sneaking around, of doing something I wasn’t supposed to do, of rebelling against my dad.
My pulse raced as I headed to Gavin’s in my heavy Kodiak boots and oversized jacket. The wind was unforgiving, and I was glad the trek was short. Underneath the winter layers, I’d worn a pretty woolen skirt and pink fuzzy sweater. I’d also applied a touch of makeup and curled my hair. I was concerned my heavy winter hat would ruin my hairstyling efforts.Michigan… what can you do?
He was beautiful when he opened the door. Freshly showered, his beard was trimmed and he smelled of Irish Spring soap. “Happy birthday, kid,” he cheered as soon as he closed the door behind me. He then surprised me with a hug, a weak one, but a hug all the same. It wasn’t like him to initiate physical contact. He was always very careful with me.
As I shed my winter wear, it dawned on me that it had been exactly a year since our kiss, on my fifteenth birthday. He had been so diligent at keeping a distance between us, that kiss had begun to seem like a dream. More and more, the memory of it faded, and I hated that.
He welcomed me into his living room. The wood stove was going and Aerosmith was playing in the background, not too loudly.Janie’s Got A Gun.
I sat down on his sofa, and before long, he handed me a mug of hot chocolate. “I put some Baileys in there.”
My eyes grew wide at the revelation.
“You’re sixteen now,” he pointed out. “A little Baileys won’t kill you.”
I ventured a sip, eager to taste. It was good, the usual hot chocolate taste with a little extra something. “I like it.”
He grinned. “Don’t like it too much.”
“I promise I won’t,” I told him. I would always be careful around alcohol. With both my parents being heavy drinkers (alcoholics, some might say), I would always be very cautious.
He settled next to me. “So how’s your birthday been so far? How does it feel to be sixteen?”
“All right,” I said. “Izzie came over with some gifts. We had a good laugh.” I didn’t tell him about my dad and brothers forgetting my birthday. I didn’t want his pity.
He smiled. “Well, I’m not sure if she’s a good influence on you, but a good friend is priceless.”
“For sure.”
