01.
Secrets
Bree was sure she'd be friends with Jenny Meyer forever. They'd met in grade school, when Bree was a foster kid and first came to live with the Meyers. The girls had grown up together, played soccer together; after the Meyer family adopted Bree, the girls became closer still, gossiping about boys together, even went to the same college. They'd tried out the same sorority together, and when Bree didn't make the cut, Jenny dropped out. They had similar tastes in music, in movies, in so many things; in so many ways, they were two peas in a pod. The girls had their differences, though: while Jenny hit puberty and had a growth spurt in middle school, Bree never did. Jenny was skinny, pale and athletic. Bree managed to stay skinny, but her Latin genes had condemned her to a life of asking strangers for help with tall shelves in grocery aisles.
Tomorrow, they were going on a trip together to visit Jenny's new boyfriend. So that night, they were enjoying one last night to themselves at the Meyer house on the coast, dining on the remnants of Chinese food. They weren't the only ones at home: Derek, the girls' father, had welcomed them in. Bree had known Derek forever, and always found her adopted father's presence comforting, somehow. He was older now, but still handsome, someone Bree had always admired and cared for, even loved as a surrogate father figure since her own parents were never in the picture. She hadn't had a chance to talk to him much for months, so that night was a good chance to make up for lost time.
"You girls want another beer?" he asked.
"Yes sir, thank you," Bree said, always the more-respectful of the pair. At least she knew not to make an age joke: Bree was the much-shorter and younger-looking of the girls, which got her plenty of funny looks at college.
"Thanks Dad," Jenny said. She reached up to kiss Derek's cheek before he went back into the kitchen, carrying a trio of empty glasses and a little smile on his face.
"I'm glad we came home tonight," Bree said.
"At least Mom's not around to ruin the fun. Dad's always been more fun to be around." Jenny grinned.
Bree liked Jenny's dad; technically, he was Bree's as well, even though they didn't look anything alike. Rather than answer, she picked at the rest of the beef and broccoli. "What time did you want to head out tomorrow morning?"
"'Morning?'" Jenny laughed. "Not a chance. I'm getting drunk tonight and sleeping it off for as long as it takes. We deserve to spoil ourselves that much, don't we?"
"Good point."
Derek soon returned with their beers, and a third for himself. It was a warm evening: the windows were open and a soft breeze blew through the house, filling it with a pleasant smell of lush things, of clipped grass, ocean salt and fading sunshine. From a short distance away, the waves crashed on the sandy shoreline. While they watched a movie, Jenny kept drinking and got louder and louder as the evening went on and she was enjoying herself. Bree cut herself off after two beers, but her sister had no such compulsion, and by the time the end credits were rolling, Jenny was laid out on the couch and snoring peacefully. The family dog, a large mixed-breed Pinscher named Rocket, was lying by Jenny's feet and watching the proceedings with curious, quiet eyes.
After gathering up the empty food boxes, as well as glasses and several extra cans of beer that Jenny had consumed, it made for a full load for Bree to carry into the kitchen. Derek quickly stood up when he saw her. "Here Bree, let me help you."
"Oh! That's okay Dad, you don't have to."
"Nonsense, I insist." He tossed the cans into the trash first, and then took the glasses to the sink to wash them while Bree threw away the food containers. "You both seemed to be having a good time."
"Yeah, I think so. She worked hard this semester, so she deserves a break, you know?"
Derek looked over his shoulder at him with a smile. "And what about you, Miss Dean's List? Don't
you
deserve a break, too?"
Bree felt a rush of heat in her cheeks and tried to ignore it. She didn't handle praise very well; it always felt too proud, too self-serving. "I guess so. It's not that big a deal, really."
Derek set both glasses on the rack to dry and dried her hands with a towel. "Care to join me for a little longer? From the sound of it, I don't think Jenny's going to miss either of us very much."
Bree cocked an ear and heard the other girl's snoring grow a bit louder for a moment before it faded back to a more normal volume.
"Are you still thirsty?" Derek asked. "There's plenty of beer left."
"Sure, why not?" Bree didn't think twice about going to the fridge and pulling out two more cans. She set one beside him and opened her own. "You didn't have to keep us company if you had other things to do tonight."
"I was happy to," he said with an easy smile. "Just having you two back around reminded me of old times."
Bree had known Derek since she was a little girl and had first gone to live with the Meyers; even now, he wasn't truly old, not in her mind. He had Jenny's paler, European complexion, with a shot of silver in his hair. He also wore glasses, which made him seem wiser or more austere, somehow. He set them on the table and picked up his can to open it.
"It was nice to come back home tonight," Bree said.
"I can't think of a better place for you both to be. Your mom won't be back from her trip for another couple of weeks anyway and since Finals are done, better you both come here then go hang out at a bar somewhere, right?"
"Probably." A long moment of silence passed. "She's on another business trip?"
"She always is, these days." It was a neutral sort of answer, one that stuck out to Bree. "I usually have the run of the house to myself since you girls left for college."
Bree took a long drink from her beer. "That sounds nice, actually—all that peace and quiet."
"It is, sometimes." He took a drink. "There are downsides to it, though: a man learns how to handle things on his own—you have to, after awhile."
"Yeah, I can imagine." Bree's mind was wandering, and it didn't take a lot of effort to realize she was probably twisting his words into something a lot more perverted than he intended. She wasn't so dark-skinned that she couldn't blush, and Bree took a long drink of her beer, hoping he wouldn't notice.
It didn't work. "Something wrong?" he asked.
Bree forced a little laugh. "Yeah, sorry, Dad. Just... I probably had one too many tonight."
Derek smirked. "No need to be embarrassed. You can tell me."
"Well..." She cleared her throat. "You said 'handle things,' and my brain just fixated on the word 'hand,' and I..." She took another long drink. "I should probably shut up now."
"Ohhhhhh, I get you." His smirk turned to a full grin. "It's okay, you can talk to me about anything, Bree. Even that." He winked at her, and Bree felt her face get even hotter. Derek laughed. "I'm sorry, don't mind me. It's just the booze. I'll sleep it off tonight and be my old self again in the morning."
"It's okay. I'm just glad Jenny's not in a hurry to head out tomorrow—I think we'll both need time to make up for tonight."
He swished the bit of beer left in his can. "Have you met John yet?"
"Jenny's new boyfriend? Not yet. He's planning to meet us when we head out tomorrow." Bree kept the smile on her face, but it felt a little bit forced. "They'll be plenty busy, but it was nice for them to invite me along."
"Mm-hmm." At first, Bree wasn't sure why he had brought up Jenny's boyfriend at all, but made her intentions plain a moment later: "And what about you, Bree? Neither you nor Jenny ever talked about you having a boyfriend, not that I can remember."
Bree shook her head. "Never found the right one."
"What, a pretty girl like you?" He squinted at her. "You're not the picky type and I never noticed, are you?"
"No, I don't think so." Bree calmed herself after his choice of compliment, took a long moment to compose her thoughts and chose her next words carefully: "I know what type I've got in mind. Just haven't found him yet."
"Oh? Are you focusing on your job prospects first?"
She smiled. "Something like that."
"That's admirable. Don't worry about not grabbing someone when you're young—good sex doesn't have to happen just when you're young, you know."
Bree wasn't sure how to respond to that. Her imagination started wandering again, and she tried to bring it up short; Bree was always cautious about sharing too much. "Jenny's always been good with guys. I just never...you know...found one who felt right. I'm just the cute
muñequita
—just a...a baby doll. Nobody wants a baby doll."
"I don't think
that's
true at all." His tone was one of disbelief. It stuck out to Bree.
She sighed, sat back in her chair, draining the rest of her beer in one pull before setting it back down on the table. "Doesn't really make any difference, now does it?"
He laid a hand on top of hers and leaned in closer. They were both buzzed from the liquor, that much was obvious, but his voice softened, as though not wanting to upset her. "It's not your fault you are the way you are; not everybody can be a Swedish model. Besides, you've always been the shy type, long as I've known you. Would you rather not talk about this?"
"I..." Bree licked her lips when she noticed just how close her Dad really was. "I don't mind, honest. I just don't know how to say what I really feel, that's all."
"That's alright." He still had that smile, a gentle and warm sort that made Bree feel good all over. "You don't need to be embarrassed. Some people are just late bloomers when it comes to that sort of thing." Her Dad licked his lips, and Bree licked hers in return. "I'm hardly an expert—just a lonely man in a lonely house with too much time on his hands."
Bree took a breath. "I'm sorry. I never noticed... It sounds really hard for you."
"It is, some days." He sat back again. "That's why I said the right one will come along for you eventually. You're young, so there's plenty of time left."
"I guess so."
"Why didn't you ever date anyone, Bree? Jenny had plenty of boys eyeing her over the years, but
you
never did." He leaned in across the table. "You were always so secretive about it. Did you ever find a guy attractive enough? Ever kiss anyone?" When she didn't answer, he continued: "You don't
have
to answer...but I won't tell anyone if you do. It'll be our little secret."
Bree was finding it harder to keep her quickening heart and breathing under control. "No, it's okay, I want to." Sitting so close to him, while the alcohol sang in her blood and gave her the courage to speak, it felt liberating, in a way. "I've kissed guys before. I've even had sex. It just...wasn't anything special like I hoped it would be. Maybe when I find the right guy, it will."
"That's probably true. The right one'll come along soon enough... Have you ever thought about what the right one is actually like?"
"Oh, God, only a whole freaking lot!" Bree's laugh sounded desperate as she picked up her beer, just to remember it was empty. When he leaned in close, handed her the rest of his beer, she chugged it down for liquid courage. "He'll be strong, attractive, good looking. Supportive and patient. He'll be interested in what I want and who I am, not just what I've accomplished. He'll take charge when I need him to, know when to tell me no and when to tell me I have to do something anyway. He'll also be good in bed, because I am tired of boys who don't have a damn clue about what I need."
