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After his shower, Kyle was surprised to see me still sitting on the sheepskin rug, a blanket wrapped around my body, staring at the fireplace. He asked if I was hungry and went to get the entire apple pie he had insisted on buying from the Lighthouse restaurant yesterday.
For a while, we ate and talked about our upcoming weekend plans and I was stunned when he said, “So I’ve a favor to ask you. Next week is Christmas and I’d like you to come to my father’s house with me.”
“Kyle, I can’t spend next weekend with you. It’s the holidays. I have to spend it with my family.”
“Just come to Christmas dinner at my father’s place. I need you.”
“I can’t.”
He put the pie on the table with a clatter. “Yes, you can.” He rotated me so I was sitting in his lap. “Yes, you can and you will.”
“Nope. A stretch limo of nopes. You can’t voodoo mind control me.” When he insisted I give him a reason, I added, “Well, Cypress and I have certain holiday traditions. I promised him I’d be there.”
“What traditions?”
“We bake and decorate gingerbread architecture. Last Christmas we made the tower of Pisa. We’ve done the Pyramids, Parthenon, Sydney Opera House...go ahead, laugh. I know we’re twin dorks.” I pulled away from him and kneeled in front of the spitting fireplace.
Bent on pursuit, Kyle got down on his knees, cupped my chin and forced me to face him. “Trust me. I’m not laughing at you. I’m smiling because I find you unique. Go on.”
“Cypress comes out of hibernation around the holidays. We have special meals, go to church—and we only go once a year—so it’s a big deal. Then Lila and her brothers come over for dinner. So I can’t be with you next week. Wait, aren’t you going to Argentina?”
Kyle stared thoughtfully at me. “I’ve been told it might be my father’s last year and I want to see him. I can’t face my family alone after Thanksgiving. I need you. Just one night.”
More than anything in the world, I wanted to spend every waking—and sleeping—minute with Kyle Paxton, but something beyond the anxiety of facing his patrician family made me hesitate. “Kyle, what is between us...is screwy complicated. If I go, we won’t be a secret anymore. Plus if Walrus finds out, I’ll go to hell in a hand basket.”
“Screw other people. You do know I can make you accompany me. You signed a contract.”
“Are you kidding? You’re going there?” I glared, my nostrils flaring until I saw he was hiding a smile with two fingers.
“Oh God. It’s too easy. Press a button. Instant reaction. Beep, boop beep...beep.” Kyle pressed invisible buttons on my chest.
“Dork,” I said.
“Idiot.”
“Jerk.”
“Say yes to this jerk.”
I gave in. I would spend Christmas day with my family and go with Kyle at dinner. “But that’s it. I’ll have dinner and then go home.”
“Categorically denied. You’re gonna spend the night in my bed.”
“No way.” I searched his face.
“No way out but forward, baby.”
“Wow, Kyle, look at you quoting songs.”
We smiled at each other and he kissed me until I was ready to make love again. But when I tried to pull his Henley off, he gently pushed me away. “Later.”
“So sad. Your Casanova status will not survive this.”
“What up with this Casanova crap? I’m not, you know.”
“I know. I just like the idea that I’m with a philanderer.”
“Opposite of that. I was real awkward around girls growing up. Kind of a late bloomer.”
“Shut up!”
“No, truth.”
“I don’t believe you. Women melt like marshmallows in a microwave around you.”
“In high school I was a loner. Couldn’t talk to girls. I was good with numbers, bad with words. Kind of a geeky mutant loser.”
“I didn’t know that.” This made me wonder if Kyle had a tiny touch of Asperger’s that had never been diagnosed and if he had learned to cope with life as an adult because he was also freakishly intelligent.
Kyle leaned back against the couch and spread his long legs out, feet almost touching the fire. His eyes were cold even with the gold flames reflected in them. “None of the girls wanted to go out with me. I had an awkward losing-my-virginity encounter with an older girl when I was seventeen. She was Chloe’s best friend. They were frenemies and the only reason Chloe even noticed me. Chloe was two years older...my first girlfriend...and you are my second.”
“Really?” I asked, wide-eyed in shock. “You’ve not had a girlfriend since she died?”
“Yes. When Chloe died, I went nuts. In a drunken black-out, I did not meet anyone for a year, except Evan. He dragged me out of my hermit hole. For two years, I worked on BirdsEye and I was with no one. Then I snapped back like the psycho I am and went off the deep end...partied a year away. I was just looking for a fun time. But it was never more than a one-night-stand.”
“Why?” I asked, wondering how many girls he had been with.
“I felt awful if I hurt someone. Some girls wanted more. They wanted what I couldn’t give them. I hated treating them like that. Didn’t have time for a girlfriend. Never thought I’d be in a relationship again.”
“You’re young and have so much to offer. Why’d you think that?”
“It was terrible the first time around with Chloe and it ended so goddamn bad. With her death—doesn’t get worse than that, you know. And three years ago, I started this system. It worked so well. Until I met you...the bug in my system. My June-Bug.”
“Wait, is that why you call me June-Bug?” I asked with a face-splitting smile. I had assumed it was due to the scarab beetle necklace I wore when we first met.
“Yes. You’re a bug. My technical glitch. A virus in my system.”
“Kyle, you flatter me. How’d I get so lucky? To be called a virus. Every girl’s dream.” I punched his bicep and he caught my wrists, looped my hands behind me and hauled me to his chest.
“That’s why I hate it when you call me a player. I know a few men like that. Jackasses. My brother is one.”
“Who, Royce?”
Kyle shook his head and let me go. “No, my younger brother, Tyler. Thinks he’s irresistible to women. He doesn’t get that if he was broke, no girl would wanna be with him. On Thanksgiving, he had a girl on each arm. Aspiring actresses who believed he’d produce their indie films. Poor fools. God knows how many screwy jams I’ve rescued him from.”
“What type of jams?”
“The Paxton standard. In and out of alcoholism rehab. Jail time for picking up prostitutes. Legal battles for illegal substance possession. Hotel suite destruction fines.”
“Does he live in Ann Arbor?”
“Los Angeles. The California courts of appeal are his regular hangouts. He’s Willow’s brother and sponges off of her.” He fisted his hair and shook his head. “Gah. Tyler makes me sad.”
“Why?”
“He’s got an Ivy League philosophy degree. He’s a brainiac with no direction, partying through his inheritance. I have some stories to tell.”
Kyle made me laugh at his brother’s wild exploits and we ate as we talked. On the cocktail table was the apple pie, spoons stuck in its belly like shovels in a sand dune. After consuming one fourth of it, I was done but he was still snarfing it down like a famished parasite.
I smiled as he scraped the last bite from the pie tin. “So what’s with you and apple pie?”
“Me pica el bagre.”
“Yo no hablo español. Translate.”
“It means, a catfish is biting me. From inside. I was hungry.”
“I noticed they had elegant desserts, but you flipped out on plain ole pie.”
He shrugged. “Living on the go, I don’t get to eat wholesome pie.”
“Not buying it. You got way too excited when they sold you the whole pie. Truth.”
Kyle gave me a narrow-eyed stare. “Fine, Nancy Drew. It reminds me of happier times. My parents were barely together but they had this set Friday night dinner. If my father missed it, Mother threw a fit. So he tried. And it was the one hour I got to see him when he wasn’t fighting with her, driving away, or flirting with his pretty secretaries. It was comfort food night and our chefs made apple pies in individual ramekins. I guess, I associate apple pie with him.” He looked down at the pie in his hands. “Huh. Well, I should hate it then.”
“Why do you hate your dad?”
“I don’t hate anyone, June-Bug. I’m indifferent. I just hate getting together with my family.”
“I’ve spent a lifetime wishing I had a father and when I hear stuff like that, I think I am better off.”
“Would you like to know who your father is?”
“I did as a kid, not so much now,” I lied, not sure I wanted the day to be ruined by talking about our families.
With a big smile, he stood up, saying that he had to show me something. He strode to the bedroom and returned with a black file and threw it on the cocktail table. For some reason, I got scared. It looked like a black rectangle branded on the pine gold table. An ominous thing I could fall into.
I gulped. “What is that?”
“Listen, don’t be upset when you see the file.”
“Kyle. What is it?”
He took a long breath. “You told me about your father. My security does reconnaissance work. They found him.”
What?
My airways constricted and my breathing became shallow. I was puffing. The asthma hit me again. I had not had an asthma attack in ten years.
“Juniper, are you okay?” Kyle’s voice came from far away.
I stumbled to the kitchen. I did not have an inhaler, so I opened all the drawers in a panic. I sensed Kyle was talking but I could not hear him. At last, I found a brown paper bag and inhaled deeply while he looked on helplessly as the bag inflated and deflated.
When my breathing regulated, he whispered, “Are you alright?”
I threw the bag down and sagged against the counter, my body boneless. Kyle lifted me up and seated me on the counter top.
“Why? Why? Why? Did I ask you to do that?”
“Just trying to help. If you had the resources, you’d find your father too.”
“Kyle Paxton, you need permission to dig into people’s lives. Oh God! Tell me you don’t have a file on me.”
A guilty shadow crossed his face. “Well, I do but—”
“Just stop. This is a big big big violation of my privacy. Why can’t you behave like a normal person?”
“I told you, I have issues trying to understand how normal people behave.”
“Explain why you have a file on me!” I hid my face with my hands.
He pried my fingers off my face. “I will if you calm down.”
“Because you don’t like drama, right?”
“No, because you just had an anxiety attack.”
“Asthma, not anxiety. Spit it out.”
“You’re not being fair.” Kyle went to the fridge, took out a bottle of water and put in in my shaking hands. “Drink this.” I obeyed him and when my eyebrows rose with a question, he continued, “I have a file on each of my companions. Standard issue.”
“No, pal. Nothing about this is standard. It’s messed up. Abnormal. Aberrant.”
“Juniper, stop judging me with your endless biblical vocabulary. Let go of your pitchfork once in a while. I don’t want to get involved with a psycho or a criminal. Before I approach a girl, I learn everything about her. That day at the museum, I asked my security to dig up info on you.”
“What day?”
“The staff meeting. When you called me out.”
“I did not call you out. I had genuine concerns and questions.”
“And it was adorable.” His forbidding face relaxed.
“No. Not adorable. Please see me as a professional who takes her career seriously—”
“Now another hat. I can’t keep track of your hats. The feminist one, the pacifist one, the moral one, the judgey one. You and I, we’re above cheap labels.”
“Back to the report. It’s illegal to have a report on me.”
“No, it’s not. You are technically my employee.”
“Annnnd...that’s what they mean by unequal relationship that has an element of claimed coercion.”
“Stop, Juniper. The contract you signed gives me the right to—”
I did not let him finish. “Stop talking about the stupid contract. I’m so mad. You’ve pissed off all my hats!”
Ignoring my outburst, he continued calmly, “As I was saying, it is standard issue for me to get info on the people I sleep with or work with. Speeding tickets, jail time, annual salary, education, shrink, medical records.”
“You are such a piece of work. All those dickish questions, when you had the answers! Juniper, tell me about work. June-Bug tell me about your family. Your boyfriends. Your life. Your address. I’ll bet you also know I got childhood asthma because my mother was too poor to rent asbestos-free places.”
My cheeks seared in shame and I tried to jump off the counter, but he trapped me in his arms, his palms lying flat around my thighs.
His lips were a few inches away from mine as he spoke in a patient, strained way. “I’m sorry, I did not know that. That is a topic for another day. Yes. I had a detailed Juniper file in my hands. Saw you had no criminal record—except for your war protest arrest in college.”
Kyle lies. “When I told you that...you acted so surprised.”
“If I’d told you I had a file on you, would you have stayed at my house?”
I shook my head.
“Look, I only saw your license. For some godforsaken reason—it was all I wanted to know. I deleted the file. There was something about you that made me want to discover you myself. It made me want to hear every single thing about you from your own lips. That is why I asked about your past, your boyfriends, your plans, your family. I really did not know.”
My tensed body relaxed, and I peered into his irises, seeing the clear truth in them. “I believe you. But you swear?”
He put a hand on his heart. “On my hollow heart, I swear.”
“So the file had info on me...and my father?”
“No. I had my guys look into your father last week. Come.”
Kyle held out a hand. I took it and jumped off the counter. We sat on the settee and he put the file on the couch cushion between us. It was unnerving, like an empty space I could fall into. And then he put the file in my lap.
“Your choice. If you feel comfortable, fine. If not, burn it in the fireplace and we’ll never speak of it again.”
“How did they...how is it possible?”
“Top-secret info digging is my team’s specialty.”
“Have you seen it?”
Kyle shook his head. “I have not. It is yours.”
“Thank you.” I picked up the file as if it were full of anthrax. “I would have died for this when I was a teenager. I can’t imagine what Mom went through...to never face this man again. She said she loved him, though.”
“Not sure he was a bad guy. I had my security confirm that he doesn’t have a criminal record. He kinda seems like a boy scout, they said.”
My eyes enlarged. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. Do you want a few minutes of privacy?”
“No. I’ll take it...home. Kyle. I-I know you’re trying to help.”
“I get it, June-Bug. Family stuff is hell.”
“Sorry about my...reaction earlier. I got a bit overwhelmed.”
“A bit?” He laughed. “You hyperventilated. Literally.”
I threw the file down, seized his shirt collar and kissed him hard.
When I drew away, he looked dazed and confused. “What brought that on?”
“You may be messed up but you’re a good person.”
“Hey, don’t go ruining my reputation.”
Kyle teased me for awhile and I listened with a goofy smile on my face, in awe at the familiarity we had developed so quickly. When we ran out of words, I put on some old rock songs. Listening to the deep vibrations of ZZ Top, we sat in contented silence. The darkening room meant our time in the treehouse was ending. Kyle would leave and a little part of me would break off. But I would see him very soon on Christmas and this made me smile again.
When I got up to pack, Kyle followed me and told me he had other plans. He picked me up and I shrieked and laughed as he threw me on the bed to implement them.
