Page 37 of Rootbound
“How do you figure? I think I ended up with the most cards collected,” I say as I take a seat next to his arms and dangle my feet in the water. A sigh escapes me. The pond is on the cool side of tepid—perfect.
Henry tilts his head on his folded arms to look up at me. “I’m sure Grady knows of a bylaw that states how many cards one of these dares is worth.”
We both laugh, because he’s probably right.
“God, I really can’t remember it ever being this hot here,” I muse, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand.
“It never is. How old were you when you… moved?” he asks. It’s a jab in the stomach, the reminder that Charlie really never even spoke about us, but it’s not surprising to me.
“I was seven.”
“I’m sorry about your mom. I remember the family talking about it when she passed away…,” he says, and my heels dig in to that bitter place.
“I find it shocking that they even gave my mom a second thought.”
He frowns sternly at that. “Why?”
Exasperated with this line of questioning already, I snap, “Because they didn’t care all that much when she moved multiple states away in the first place. About her, or us, Henry. I understand that you might see a different group of people than what I knew, but that’s just the truth. I’m sorry to tarnish their reputations for you.” I go to get up, but he wraps a big hand around my ankle and stops me.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I don’t know what all took place or anything. I shouldn’t have gone there.” He sounds completely sincere, but flinches slightly before continuing. “But, are you sureyouknow everything, Tait? I know it’s easy as kids to see things a certain way, and to just accept that as reality.”
“The reality is that my father barely put forth a modicum of effort to have a relationship with my sister and I, Henry. I know you mean well, but that’s just a fact.”
His palm is still wrapped around my ankle, and he traces a circle with his thumb, considering his words carefully before continuing.
“You’re right. And even though that makes no sense to me, and isn’t the Charlie I know, I just know what it feels like when you don’t get another chance to have things be better—to at least have thechanceto mend things.”
I consider him, again, and am struck with wanting to knowhisstory. I’m failing to reconcile this man, who looks like Avenger-lumberjack, but says things like “nefarious,” and “takes umbrage” with me, and who can read this situation pretty clearly even as an outsider.
He barks out that husky laugh again, and I realize I’ve said this last part out loud, slightly less than on purpose (though who are we kidding, I feel like I’m getting the equivalent of a gold star each time I manage to make him laugh).
“I’ll have you know that I read. Real books and everything. And I have a degree in environmental sciences. Even know a few big words and how to spell them, too.”
“Nerd,” I deadpan.
At that his hand shoots up to the back of my knee, and with one arm he shot puts me into the water.
I come up laughing, relief flooding my senses at being cooled off finally. I can’t even feign irritation, splashing water in his general direction once before floating onto my back and closing my eyes.
I hear him swim closer, and feel him watching me, somehow. Gripped by the need to fill the silence, I say, “Thanks for that, saved me from having to take a shower.”
“Oh, so you don’t mind the leeches, then?” he says, which results in me practically levitating out of the water and losing all semblance of calm.
“WHAT?!” I panic dog-paddle back to the dock in great, big splashes, and latch onto the ladder when his hands go on my hips, digging in pleasantly.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’m sorry.” I turn slowly and level him with a glare. He’s laughing silently, eyes watering. Bastard.
“I’ll have you know, I don’t do bugs. I am not prissy, typically.” I feel my cheeks heat.
He struggles to regain composure, and I struggle not to look down. The water is too dark to catch a peek at anything, anyway.
“I’m sorry, I owe you for that one,” he says, and then takes his hands away with another, quieter, “Sorry.”
“A bath.”
“Huh?”
“You owe me a bath. I want to use the tub andshower of dreams.”