Like a Fox (9 page)

“Thank you, Maya. Thank you so much for that.” I know she only did it because she doesn’t like what’s going on and it’s her way of revenge, mad I’m not as worked up over what happened as she is.

My dad is solely focused on Vic, “Is that safe?”

Vic casually sips his wine before responding, “The house will have the best security money can buy.”

“You travel a lot.”

How does my dad know that?

“She’ll be fine,” Vic says with finality, done with the conversation.

Dad exhales, worry in his blue eyes, “I don’t like this.”

The two stare at each other, having their own private conversation nobody else can begin to understand. I have so many questions for both of them I don’t even know where to begin. How can a world so big end up being so small?

Vic’s the first to speak, withdrawn from the topic, “That’s of no concern to me.”

“Well, it should!” Maya’s getting fired up, protective over family. “He’s her dad!”

“Freya is an adult. She doesn’t need her father’s permission.”

Maya huffs, not having a rebuttal.

The walls begin to rattle and the room sways, making me feel off center. Vic grabs my arm and pulls me under the dining table with him. He has me balled on my hands and knees, his own body over mine as protection as we both hold onto the table legs. The entire house is now making crashing noises as things fall, the earth moving underneath us.

“Earthquake!” My mom shouts, ducking under with us a few seconds later.

We live in California; we’ve had earthquakes before, so I can easily tell by the intensity of this one and how it keeps going and going that it’s a big one.

Vic has remained over my body, an extra shield.

Maya is crying. Earthquakes are her greatest fear. It’s been that way ever since we were little and the biggest one of our generation hit. Dad was at the café working late, mom was in the kitchen, and we were in our separate rooms. It terrified Maya as she waited it out alone in her room, screaming out our names and getting no answer back. We were all okay but Maya had thought we were all getting crushed by it.

Wine glasses tip over above us. The red liquid looks like blood as it drips over the sides onto the floor. Some of the glasses roll off and shatter.

I can hear Flynn whispering words of comfort, reassuring Maya that we are all here and we are all okay.

When it stops, Maya’s the first to pop up, “Outside. Everyone. Now.”

We do as we’re told, moreso for Maya than being worried a second one will hit. We’re not the only ones who have left their homes. Most of the neighbors have migrated to the street, all talking excitedly amongst themselves about where on the scale they believe it was and where they were and what they were doing when it hit.

Maya is shaking in Flynn’s arms, who has her tucked close to him. My parents are mingling with the excited group that formed. Vic’s got me held tightly to his side as he surveys the area, eyes roaming everywhere. I do the same and am relieved that everything looks unharmed.

We are the last group to go back to our house, Maya needing time to make sure another won’t hit. Once she gives us the okay we head in, checking the house for any damage. Luckily almost everything’s intact, only a few broken picture frames and figurines. My mom’s bookshelf had some books fall out and the bathroom mirror is cracked, but otherwise nothing of concern.

Maya begins calling everyone she knows in the area to make sure they are safe, Sammy being the first as he lives alone. She’s hysterical right now, talking so fast you can’t understand her and Flynn has to keep reminding her to breathe and take in deep breaths, eventually just taking over the phone.

Dinner is slightly overcooked but still delicious and we eat the meal in silence, the evening having no chance of being redeemed.

On our way out my dad has me come to the kitchen to get leftovers.

He hesitates as he holds out the Tupperware, “He’s not a good man, Freya.”

I reach for the food in his hands, “How do you know? Do you know him?”

My dad holds on, not letting go, “I knew his father.”

“But you don’t know
him
?”

He reluctantly lets me have the plastic container, “No.”

I have a strange sense of protectiveness towards Vic, “Then how do you know what kind of man he is?”

My dad sighs, “Just be careful, there’s no need to rush into this. Take your time getting to know each other.”

I lower my voice, staring down at the container’s red top, “How did you know his father?”

“Long story. I’ll share it some other time. It’s rather boring.”

I highly doubt that. It’s hard to imagine my parents having lives before Maya and I, with a past and secrets of their own that we know nothing about.

Maya rides home with Flynn, still needing the comfort of his presence.

“I have a lot of questions,” I tell the window of Vic’s car.

“There’s no need for them.”

I stare at his reflection in the glass, “How did you know he knew my father?”

“I know everything about your family.”

How can he say things so casually, like its something normal people would say?

“Why? Because of your interest in me?” I get that with his background he knows how to access information most wouldn’t and how tempting it could be. Hell, I’d have done it myself if I had the means to do it. I think most would be lying if they didn’t admit the same.

Vic takes a long time before responding, “I can’t answer that right now, Freya.”

“Because you won’t lie to me?” I take a guess, recalling previous conversations.

“Yes.” He turns his head to look at me, “I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

“I already do.”

Chapter 13

For the next few days I try getting answers from my dad, but he always acts like he’s too busy and keeps saying “we’ll talk later.” I go to my mom as well, but she’s still playing dumb. My mom’s not dumb; she knows. Vic is no better, dismissing it every time I bring it up.

Tonight I have the house to myself. Vic had a meeting in San Francisco, which is about an hour and a half from here, and he told me he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. I’m enjoying the time to myself. So much has happened in such a short amount of time, I need the chance to absorb and process it all.

I’m halfway through a movie, tired of my own thoughts, when my sister walks in, Armageddon furrowed in her brows. Liza and Chloe are close behind, neither offering a greeting, far too serious looking for a Wednesday night.

“You’re off early?” Maya usually isn’t due home for another couple hours.

She doesn’t answer, sitting down in the big comfy chair and bringing up her legs so they’re crisscrossed. She’s rubbing her left elbow, a sign she’s nervous.

Liza takes the floor and won’t look at me. Chloe keeps shifting around in the recliner.

“What’s up guys?” They better not have drunk the bottle of expensive wine I had been saving.

Maya pauses her elbow rubbing and licks her lips, “Okay, so I don’t want to make a big deal out of nothing, but I’d want to know if I were you.”

Now I’m getting nervous as she goes back to rubbing her elbow. Maya diverts her eyes over to Liza and Chloe before she continues.

“Okay,” she licks her lips again, avoiding eye contact and rushing it all out, “We saw Vic having dinner with another woman.”

My stomach bottoms out and I grow dizzy, blood rushing from my head.

“They were sitting close,” Liza adds when Maya stops.

“He laughed. A few times,” Chloe includes.

“He did?” I whisper, my heart now feeling frantic. “I didn’t even know he could do that.”

“We were just as shocked.” Liza comes and sits next to me, “It could just be a friend.”

Chloe lets out a sharp laugh, “Right. Like he has friends.”

Liza and Maya shoot darts at Chloe with squinty eyes.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“Are you sure it wasn’t a business meeting? He could have met with his realtor or something?” I describe what Nadine looks like, using hand gestures like it will help them to better picture her.

“No,” Maya frowns in sympathy. “It definitely wasn’t professional.”

“What were they doing?” I’m still talking in a hushed tone, my brain telling me to know all the facts before I worry, but my heart is already in freak-out mode. I’m trying my best to ignore the latter.

“Eating,” Maya tries to sound nonchalant about it, but it couldn’t have appeared that way for them to come to me about it or to be acting like this. “Well…mostly,” she nervously looks to the others.

“What? Tell me?”

“She put a hand on his, and he reached over and cupped her face, stroking it with his thumb, then they were oddly silent as they stared for a while.” Maya looks guilty. It must have looked worse.

I think I might throw up. “Where were they? How were you there?”

“Keith and I were having dinner at that great Italian place in Petaluma,” Chloe explains, referring to a town halfway between here and San Francisco. “I saw them arrive. Even Keith admitted to them being far too familiar with each other–”

Liza cut in, “She texted me for backup on what to do. I called Maya at work–”

“–We spied from the bar,” Maya finishes.

“Did he see you?”

Maya shakes her head, “No, we stayed closer to the door and used a plant to hide us. We left before they did. Now we’re here.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I ask, having never been in this situation before. I don’t want to call Vic and accuse him of anything, especially since I didn’t see it for myself.

“When you talk to him next, ask how his night went,” Chloe suggests. “You’d do that anyway, right?”

I nod, “What if he doesn’t mention her?”

“Then you know.”

“Know what?”

The room is silent. No one wants to say the answer out loud. No one wants to say that he may be cheating on me.

I think it’s time I open up that expensive bottle of wine. I go and get it, only pouring myself a glass; I’m going to need the whole thing. I don’t want to think about what I’ve just learned, not yet. Not when I can’t do anything but obsess all night, and that won’t do me any good.

We watch a French thriller on Netflix that we’ve all been hooked on, and the show gets creepy enough that for brief moments I don’t think about Vic with that woman, possibly touching her at that very moment the way he does me. The girls drink with me, all of us consuming more than a bottle each. All the wine has me easily able to pass out. Unfortunately, I still wake up every hour, tossing and turning until morning, where I’m greeted by a raging hangover.

~~~~~

My head is lightly throbbing from way too much wine, and I drink a glass of water instead of coffee even though my sluggish body could use the caffeine.

Vic had told me he wouldn’t be at the café this morning and I’m grateful, still trying to figure out the best way to approach him. I try my best not to think about him not being here because another woman is sharing his bed. That kind of thinking will only add to my headache.

By the end of my shift the pounding in my head has taken to full-blown drilling and hammering. I’m completely drained from it and the lack of sleep.

Vic is waiting for me outside. I give a small smile even though my insides are beyond thrilled to see him. I’m just too tired for anything more than that.

He’s right there cupping my cheek, examining my face, which has to appear just as shitty as I feel. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not feeling so hot.” I’m not going to mention the bottle and a half of wine I finished last night. I need to sit down first before I start any sort of conversation with him.

“Let’s get you home.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder and allows me to put my weight on him as we slowly move. I rest my head on him, breathing in his scent that has become so familiar to me. If this ends badly, I know any time I come close to smelling anything like him a wrecking ball will tear me down.

Vic continually kisses the top of my head with obvious affection and concern. I’m sure he believes I’m getting ill, and at the moment I allow him to. The combination of my emotions and hangover are worse than any flu.

Once in my bedroom Vic helps me remove my clothes, despite my protests. I would have never pegged Vic as a nurturer but he definitely is. He pulls out my nightshirt and slips it over my head, his hands strictly focused on the task and not my naked body. He helps me into bed, leaving to get me water and some Tylenol.

Vic quickly removes his own clothing, naked as he slides into bed, leaning against the bed frame. He pats between his legs for me to join him. I crawl into the empty space, resting my back to his chest, his warmth soothing.

I’m not ready to ask about last night, so I point to the book on my nightstand, “Read to me?”

Without any hesitation he reaches for it, starting on the page my bookmark is.

I try not to fall asleep, but the lull of his deep voice, his accent rich and thick while he reads, comforts me in a way I haven’t felt since I was a child. I drift off, my body feeling content and safe with him around me.

I’m not sure how long I conked out for. My room is dark, no noise from anywhere in the house when I wake. I shift, finding Vic still behind me.

I move my head so I can see his face. He’s awake and looking down at me.

“How long was I out?” I feel a little guilty that he was stuck there.

“A few hours.”

“You didn’t have to stay.”

“I know.” Vic repositions us, sliding our bodies down, turning me so now my front lays over him, head on his chest. “Are you hungry?”

My lips brush against his skin when I talk, “Not really. Are you?”

“I’ll be fine.” He strokes my hair, lowering his voice, “Sleep.”

Food makes me think of dinner, which makes me think of my aching heart.

In a sleepy, grumbled voice I mumble, “How was your day yesterday?”

“Fine.”

“Did the meeting go well?”

“Somewhat.”

“Did they take you out? Food’s always yummier when it’s free.” I’m doing my best to keep it sounding casual, and so far my tone hasn’t betrayed me.

“No.”

“Bummer. Did you get to do
anything
last night?”

“Nothing of importance.”

Jesus. I forgot what a conversationalist he is.

“Anything yummy to eat at least?”

Vic sighs deeply, my head rising and falling with it, “Rest, Freya.”

Now what? Do I call him out on the dinner? I don’t want to accuse him of anything only to find out it was something harmless.

I close my eyes, relax my body, and concentrate on shallow breaths so I appear to be asleep. I cling to him all night, torn with what to do. By morning I’ve become agitated with his evasive behavior. Will anything ever be easy with him?