Juilliard or Else (33 page)

"Breaking your own rule I see." he nodded to the cigarette in my hand.

"Crap!" I turned and went back outside, taking one more pull from it and then I stubbed it out in the ash tray. I went back into the apartment and stood back in front of Tucker. He looked so good in his outfit he'd chosen to wear. Black pants, black button up shirt, black tie with his black leather jacket—but his shoes were what made me giggle, he was wearing his converse.

My hand stifled my laughter; he looked like he was dressed to go to a funeral. He placed his hands on my hips to bring me closer to his body and I continued to laugh in my hand.

"What's so funny?" He smiled

"You're all in black," he looked down at himself and shrugged.

"Ah, so?"

"You look like you're going to a funeral, Tucker."

He raised a brow, "Maybe your dad will kill me for doing this to his daughter."

He pulled me to him and kissed me hard on the mouth. So hard that I threw everything I had back into giving him this kiss. Our tongues clashed together while I moaned in his mouth. Tucker's hands moved down to my butt, pressing me closer to him while my hands tangled in his hair. He bit down on my bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth and my body shook at the sensation. I pushed his leather jacket off his shoulders and then loosened his tie, tugging him backwards to the hallway.

All my nerves about him meeting my dad and Carol were suddenly gone. I had to have him right now.

"Gabs, were gonna be late," he tried to tell me around my mouth, but I didn't care. I pulled back to look at his face, his lips were swollen from our passionate kisses, his hair that was slicked back was now disheveled and his tie was loose at the knot.

Reaching down to the edge of my deep plum dress, I pulled on the hem, up and over it went then onto the floor. I stood there in my black lace panties and a matching bra. I was still in my heels and Tucker took a sharp intake of breath at the sight of me, making me smile. He suddenly attacked me, swinging my body over his shoulder and kicking off his shoes in the process. I screamed as he carried me down to my bedroom, smacking my butt in the process. I'm so happy that we are alone. We can be as loud as we want.

He tossed me on my bed while he removed the rest of his clothes in a rush, then landing on top of me.

Tucker kissed my worries away. This day was going to be just fine.

I helped Tucker straighten his tie inside the cab. I could tell he was nervous; he kept on joking that my dad was really going to kill him now for having sex with me before Thanksgiving dinner in his home.

"Knock it off. Just be the sweet Tucker I know you are," I kept repeating to him, then kissing him.

Walking in the front doors of my childhood home, nothing has changed since I've been gone. Maybe Carol got some new drapes in the piano room, but that was about it. The smell was the same as always; my heels clicked on the hardwood floor, servants busied themselves as we walked past them. I could hear my father on the phone in his study; I wanted to introduce Tucker to him before Carol. I knew my dad would like him, or so I hoped he would.

Grabbing Tucker's hand to lead him in the direction of my dad's office, Tucker's steps were beginning to harden the closer we got to the study. Once we were outside the door and before I had a chance to knock on it, Tucker grabbed my hand and turned me towards him. His face was scared; I could even tell and when he spoke to me, his voice shook.

"Gabs, what if he doesn't like me or approve of us?"

I tilted my head to the side as his sapphire eyes looked at the ground.

I placed my finger under his chin, "Hey, don't look down," reminding him what he always told me.

"Tuck, you have nothing to worry about; he's gonna love you," I cupped his cheek and closed his eyes. "I love you and that's all that matters. We don't need their approval to be together."

Tucker kissed me, but this kiss didn't turn heated. It was the type of kiss that was more of a comfort kiss. Kisses like this that Tucker gave me after a stressful day of school, or dealing with Carol.

Oh, Carol.

My stomach dropped at the thought of Tucker meeting and dealing with her; it made me more nervous than him meeting my dad. We broke apart when I heard my dad say goodbye and hang up the desk phone. I turned back to Tucker, "You ready?" He nodded. I knocked and waited.

"Come in!"

We emerged in my dad's office hand in hand. Tucker's hands tightened in mine and all I could do was wince at the slight pain shooting through my fingers as we approached my dad behind his oak desk.

"Daddy," I squealed out, but I think it came out more like a grunt because my dad looked up in a panic and Tucker's hand loosened.

"Abigail." He stood up from his desk and made his way around to me, hugging me in a tight bear hug. Tucker had a death grip on me as my dad rubbed my back.

When he was done, I pulled on Tucker's arm so he would be at my side. "Daddy, this is Tucker. Tucker, this is my dad, David McCall."

Tucker stuck out his hand ready to shake my dad's hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you sir," Tucker said. Surprisingly, his voice didn't shake at all.

Waiting for my dad to shake his hand, but he ended up clapping Tucker on the shoulder, "Tucker, my boy. Welcome to our home." And he gave Tucker a side hug. I let out a breath; I knew my dad would like him. Now Carol, she's a different story.

"You taking good care of my daughter?" My dad smiled at him.

"Yes sir."

My dad looked over the top of his glasses, "I already like you, because you call me sir, young man." My dad clapped his shoulder a couple more times before he let go.

"Well, I have a few more things I have to finish up before dinner. Abigail, why don't you go find your mother?"

I rolled my eyes at his statement of Carol being my mother. I showed Tucker around the rest of the house instead. He whistled in amazement every time we entered a different room, one being bigger than the next. I showed him my old room, which still screamed baby girl so I didn't linger in there for very long. We ended up in my old ballet studio; I was trying everything I could to keep Carol and Tucker away from each other, which was silly—I knew he could handle her if she got mean or something—but I couldn't handle her talking to him as if he were completely different from our family.

"This is your studio?"

I nodded, "Yep, it was a Christmas present to have it added onto the house."

He whistled as he walked up to my barre. I watched his face reflect in the mirror as he looked around. "Some present to give someone."

I shrugged, "Meh, I guess. It's always something big with Carol."

His eyes met mine in the mirror, "Can you dance for me baby girl?"

I bit my bottom lip and moved over to the stereo to turn on some classical music. He loved when I would dance for him; he always said how much it relaxed him as I moved quietly across the floor on my toes.

I kicked off my heels, stretched my feet and slipped on a pair of old ballet shoes I kept in the corner closest. Tucker cringed at my feet being bent all up as I stretched my toes up on pointe before I started.

"I can't believe that doesn't hurt you," he turned, leaning against the barre, crossing his arms, just watching me.

"Oh trust me, when I first learned, my feet would bleed for days at a time. It's nothing now."

I went stood in the center of the room and started turning, going on pointe a little bit, did a couple of leaps in the air, landing softly. You could barely hear my feet as they moved across the floor while Tucker just watched. To be honest, I loved when he watched me dance. He never critiqued me for something I did wrong. If my feet ended up together instead of apart, he never said a word, just watched me with quietness. I took my time with my little routine as my legs stretched and my toes pointed. When I was done, he had the biggest smile on his face.

He walked over to me, cupping my face, "You are so beautiful Gabs," then he tenderly kissed me.

"Abigail!"

I jumped at Carol's voice coming into the studio behind us, with her heels clicking piercingly on the floor. I turned and was ready for her to meet my Tucker. I wasn't going to hide him from her; he was too important to me.

"Hello," I greeted her. Carol looked so well put together for this special day for our happy little family. Her blonde hair was swept back and pinned up on one side, her beautiful earrings glistened in the soft light, and she had on a cream colored skirt and white blouse.

"Abigail, who's your friend?" her voice strange as she stared at me and not once did she look over at Tucker.

"Carol McCall, this is Tucker. Tucker, this is Carol."

Tucker stuck his hand out to Carol, "Ma'am, it's a pleasure to meet you," Carol's eyes didn't leave mine until I looked at Tucker's out stretched hand. She looked at him with cruel blue eyes while her face was hard and mean.

Whoa…What's her problem?

This wasn't a normal look for Carol. This look was of pity and disgust as her eyes raked up and down Tucker's body, but she finally grabbed his hand for a quick shake then dropped it as if would give her some disease.

"Tucker, do you have a last name?" She asked.

"Well, actually it's…"

"Here you all are!" My dad announced from the door way. Carol took that chance to leave us rushing past my dad with a polite, "Excuse me."

My dad watched her move down the hall, "Okay. Well, who's hungry?" my dad asked as I unlaced my shoes and replaced them with my heels.

We all met in the dining room. The long dining table held the glasses, which were shiny and sparkly as if they were new. The white plates were all around for four spots. My dad sat at the head of the table, Carol to his right like always, and I sat across from her with Tucker next to me. We all sat down except for Carol, who disappeared, probably to look over Isabelle's shoulder as she prepared dinner. I cleared my throat and shifted a little in my chair. Tucker placed his hand on my thigh; I met his eyes and smiled at him.

My dad asked, "So, Tucker. What do you do?"

He cleared his throat, "Right now sir, I'm a tattoo apprentice at my buddy's shop. I'm almost done, and then I'll be hired on as a full time tattoo artist." Tucker stroked my bare thigh. My face flushed.

I looked at my dad, "His work is gorgeous dad; very real looking."

My dad pushed his glasses back up his nose, "Tattooing? Have you ever thought about going to school for a real career?"

"Dad" I quietly snapped.

Tucker cut in, "No, it's alright. I understand sir that some people don't consider it a real job, but I like to draw, making it something permanent on people's skin. It's the thrill I get when the client takes the first look at that permanent spot that I just created and seeing the tears in their eyes. Something that will always be there, and for some people it soothes them to see the artwork. Brings them comfort."

Tucker couldn't have defended himself more perfectly; I was proud that he held his ground. I smiled at him which he gladly returned.

"Tucker, let's say you and my daughter get serious, talk about getting married, kids maybe. Do you think you can support them being a tattoo artist?" My dad rested his chin on his hands and stared intently at Tucker, waiting for his answer.

"Dad, I didn't bring Tucker here for you to give him a career change. And we're not getting married—no kids are in the picture."

"I know, I just wanted to know."

"Sir," Tucker cut in, "I'll let you know that I do love your daughter. I haven't thought about having kids, nor do I want to. I believe kids are meant for a special reason, to be born into a loving family when the time is right. I have no desire to have any anytime soon."

I couldn't have said that better myself.

I held Tucker's hand and watched his legs bounce under the table.

"You love my daughter?" We both looked up at my dad.

"Yes sir, very much." Tucker said bringing my hand up to kiss my knuckles.

I looked back over at my dad, "I love him too daddy." My dad did nothing at first but stare, and then he smiled. Carol's heels clicked on the hardwood as she came to the table with Isabelle at her side.