Broken Home Pt. 03

"So I've heard. Punched a customer's food right out of their hands."

Fantastic. He'd been asking around about me. "Yeah. I suppose so. It was the day Brandon died. My emotions were running a little high and the customer waved the bag right in front of my face."

Deana and Hannah both looked at me. They hadn't heard the full story, just a line of bullshit I fed them about reduced hours, and Hannah's lips parted. Her hand went to mine and I squeezed it.

Gordon looked like he was going to try for another cut, but Rachel interjected. "What kind of work are you looking for?" she asked me.

"Right now, it's basic entry level stuff."

"Bagging groceries?" Gordon asked.

"Gordon, that is enough," Rachel said very calmly. "I was asking him a question. Please don't be rude."

"Rude? Oh come on," Gordon said. But one look around the table and he raised his hands. "Fine. I'm the asshole."

Rachel's gaze returned to me. It was like she was peeling layers of me away, and the experience was pleasant. I liked her, I decided. Horrible taste in guys, but then again, Deana fell for Gordon's charms too.

"I have some interviews with some fast-food places," I said. "I'm going to apply to another restaurant or two, see if there isn't anywhere with full-time work."

"No shame in that," she said. "If you were closer you'd probably be my hookup for coffee every morning. A three-hundred-dollar coffee maker at home, but there's something about McDonald's first thing in the morning."

"Ohhhh, yes," Deana said.

The two of them and Hannah launched into harmless talk about guilty pleasure foods and their favorite restaurants, and the tension slowly seeped out of me. I focused on the food as I listened. The salmon was the definite highlight, served with some kind of mashed potato mixed with something with a lot of kick to it. Hannah told me later it was horseradish. It was utterly fantastic.

While we were finishing up with the main course, Hannah asked Rachel, "How did you and my dad meet?"

"Our production company is represented by his firm. I was involved in a lengthy situation I can't talk much about, but it brought me to their offices a couple times."

"Gordon was your lawyer?" I asked.

"No, but he made his services available if I needed them," Rachel said, trying to smile. "He charmed me into a few dates, and here we are. How about you and Hannah? Have you been dating long?"

"Oh, ah," I said. Hannah grinned at my discomfort. "No. Not long."

"So, you two are officially labeling yourselves a couple then?" Gordon asked, and I should have known from that nasty look on his face he had something waiting. I should not have been that blind. But would things have turned out the way they did if he didn't try to drop the bomb on us? I honestly don't know.

"They've been dancing around each other for years now, but just this week I think they really found each other," Deana told Rachel.

"Mom!" Hannah said, blushing hard. But her hand went to mine and squeezed, and I didn't let her go.

"That's so sweet," Rachel said. "When we walked in on them at Hannah's-"

"Oh no," I said.

"-they'd obviously been... you know. And he was sitting on the chair in her robe."

"The pink one?" Deana asked. When Rachel nodded emphatically, she nearly cried with laughter. I bore it all, glancing at Hannah and grinning.

The conversation shifted to dessert, and an obligatory talk about the holidays behind us and all the calories from sugar. Eventually, Rachel returned her attention to me. "So I don't mean to bring down the mood but I obviously didn't know Brandon as well as everyone here. Yesterday at the service, you were going to tell a story. Is that something you'd want to share? I'd love to know more about him." The question had the air of something she practiced saying, but she came across still as heartfelt.

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it's, ah, it's a good story," I said. "When I got my driver's license a couple years before we graduated, Brandon asked me for a favor that Christmas. He had some money saved from his job that summer and he wanted to use it on..." I took a moment, not getting as choked up as I had during the funeral, but needing to gather my thoughts and focus so I wasn't lost in the memory. Strangely, though, where there had been agony the day before, retelling this now felt good. "Well. Deana had been having a rough year..."

"Wait," Deana said, frowning. "He was the Secret Santa?"

"You didn't know?" I asked, completely surprised.

"We thought it was you," Hannah said.

"No, I drove him, but all the shopping, the wrapping, the cards, it was all him. I mean, everything."

Rachel, watching this with a smile, said, "The Secret Santa?"

Deana took over for a moment. "Someone mailed me a package that Christmas. Cookies and tea. It was lovely. It was unmarked, except for a little note inside a Christmas card that said, 'Hope this cheers you up this season.' I still..." She blinked away tears. "I still have that card and that note. A few of our friends and family got packages like that too."

"I never knew," Hannah said. "Wow."

"What do you mean, you were having a bad year?" Gordon asked. The whole table ignored him.

"Keep going," Rachel said, drawing an irritated look from Gordon but I did.

"Well, anyway, he had this idea. Make a list of people who have been having a bad year or who could use a pick me up. That first year, it was just a few people. Then it grew to about ten the year after. The year he got sick, it was twenty or thirty. He couldn't send them much but he made sure they got something." I drew a long breath. "And that was Brandon. Wanting to take care of other people even when he was getting sicker and sicker."

The table, even Gordon, was silent for a while at that. Rachel finally said softly, "He sounds wonderful."

"The best friend I ever had and the best guy I'll ever know," I said.

"The best brother," Hannah said. Deana couldn't speak but nodded.

"The best son," Gordon said. "And a fighter. Seeing him in that hospital bed still smiling and cracking jokes-"

"Don't," Hannah said, and in her voice was an anger I'd never heard from her before, low and carrying a threat of violence.

"What?" Gordon asked.

"You don't get to say seeing him was a struggle for you when you came to visit him once, Dad. Once."

His smile was strained now, his eyes glimmering with a reflection of her anger. "I know things haven't been right between you and me for a while, Hannah Banana, but I did love your brother. And I love you too. Me not being there physically doesn't change that."

"Oh, it absolutely does. Because even when you're there, you're not." To Rachel, Hannah said, "He is a horrible human being. The fucking worst."

"Hannah," Gordon warned. A couple people watched us now, but this was a rollercoaster and we were all strapped in.

"When him and Mom divorced, he convinced me he was a great guy. Bought me a car and invited me to come live with him. Only he was never home, never cared about me at school, never came to any of my basketball games."

"I work for a living, unlike some people at this table," he snapped. "And do you really want to talk about shitty parenting? Really?" He glared at Deana. "How about telling our darling daughter who it is you're fucking, Deana?"

There it was. Holy shit.

He stared at me and grinned as all around us, tables fell quiet. "I saw you two today, you little fucking punk. I was coming up the drive and what do I hear but my ex-wife's unmistakable sounds of ecstasy. Same old Deana, same old lockbox under the steps. I let myself in and saw her bouncing on you like a pogo stick." His cold, dead eyes flicked back to Hannah. "That's your mother, Hannah. So tell me, who's the better parent?"

To my surprise, to everyone's surprise, Hannah looked back at her dad... and smiled. "Good try. But I already knew that." Deana gasped. Rachel looked shocked, but said nothing. Hannah dug out her phone, and I remembered our exchange the day before the funeral before we slept together. I tried to tell her about Deana and me sleeping together, but she told me she didn't want to hear it, not until after the funeral. She wrote out a text too, something she told me she'd show me when it was time. Now it was.

--I know about you and Mom and I am okay with it--

I looked up sharply from the phone and at her. She took the phone back and gave it to her mom. Her mom read it, held a hand to her breast, and passed it to Rachel. Hannah said, "I wrote that two days ago because Nick tried to tell me about Mom and him. I already knew. I heard them." She turned her attention back on her father. "So you, Dad, win the Worst Parent trophy. Congratulations. And by the way? I never want to fucking speak to you again."

"And on that note," Rachel said, "I was going to do this when we got home, but it's well past time, Gordon, and I can't take another minute of this. We are so very through. This whole thing has been a nightmare."

"You're breaking up with me?" Gordon hissed, but again, everyone ignored him.

To Deana, Hannah, and me, "You three are lovely. I don't know about.... um... this..." She gestured at the phone. "But I am really sorry about him. He wanted me to dress like a whore for this, to show me off, to make you feel bad. He told me things about you, Deana, that I see now were terrible lies and I am so sorry for my part in this."

"I'm fucking out," Gordon, said, shoving back and tossing his napkin on the table. "Good luck finding a flight back until tomorrow, bitch." Gasps at that, and a waiter approached him.

"Sir, you still need to pay your bill."

I cracked up at that, and so did Hannah, after a moment. Rachel's eyes lit up too. As Gordon sputtered and dug out his wallet, Deana took a long sip of her wine and asked, "Rachel, would you like a ride?"

"To the hotel?"

"I was thinking Philadelphia, actually. Hannah and Nick have some things they need to talk about, and I would love to get to know you better."

"That sounds wonderful. A girls' road trip."

We stood and walked out, ignoring the stares and mutters of the people around us. In the night air, Gordon walked half-circles, his eyes wild, muttering under his breath. He turned toward us and shouted, "This is insane. This all fucking insane."

"Hannah," Deana said calmly, "Nick and I talked some about this. We agreed that if you two decided to see each other exclusively, he and I would stop. It was never my wish to make you uncomfortable."

"Looney!" Gordon shouted.

"We'll talk when you come home," Hannah said, wrapping an arm around me. "But I want to see you happy too, Mom, and when I'm not using him, I really don't mind you being with him too. He's very good, isn't he?"

"Oh my God, so good," Deana said, and Rachel giggled. "But honey, you and him..."

"I mean it. I'm okay with it. I want you to be happy and I'm not jealous. If you're not either."

"Oh, no, not at all."

Gordon stormed towards us, and I thought he was going to hit me. Instead, he stared down at his daughter, his chest rising and falling. Then he looked at the rest of us in turn. To all of us, he said, "I loved Brandon. You know, the rest of this shit I can take. But the thought of all of you riding your high horses and telling me I did not love my son, or you, Hannah, is..." And wonder of wonders, his voice broke. Was it faked? I still don't really know. He was a lawyer. It could have been an act. But if it was, then he belonged on a stage, not in front of a courtroom. "That is unacceptable. Seeing him in bed, hearing him try to speak..."

He came to Deana, though I put myself between them, not right in front of him, but close enough to let him know I was there and ready to step in. He ignored me and said to her, "I am not as strong as you. I couldn't have visited him every day. I don't think I could have done a full week. But I wanted to come more often. Even if it was just for a few minutes." He licked his lips. "But I knew you, all of you, didn't want me there. It was a no-win situation. I try to be there for my dy..." He shook his head. "For my dying son and piss you and Hannah off, or I stay away, and maybe the living ones would be a little happier without me, apparently the worst part of their fucking lives. That's the choice I had. Fuck all of you for hating me for that."

Two vehicles approached, the valets behind the wheels. When the Porsche pulled up to the curb and Gordon accepted the keys, he looked at Rachel. She shook her head, and he gave us all the middle finger as he slid in.

Our own ride home was an almost celebratory thing. Rachel and Deana would have about a four-hour drive ahead of them, and that was just one way. It was late to be on the road, but they both agreed that Gordon was vindictive enough that if he arrived first and went unchecked for too long,

We drove first to the hotel, where Rachel picked up her luggage, then we went back to Deana's. She let Hannah and I out at the curb, and I asked to speak to her alone for a moment. Hannah and Rachel talked while Deana stepped out on the other side.

"Will you and Rachel be okay?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "I feel freer tonight than I did after the divorce. Isn't that odd?"

"It's a night for truths," I said. "And this is one of them. I still love you. And I always will. I will be here for Hannah and you. I don't want one of the other. I want both of you. And I know that's weird and if it's too much we'll figure that out. But that's where I'm at in this. So think about it when you're on the road."

"I will."

Hannah crept into view on the other side of the SUV, watching us with glee. "Kiss him!" she called.

Deana laughed softly, roped her arms around me, and did just that. It was a peck, but I chased her lips and made it a promise. The gloom hanging over me wasn't entirely gone and probably wouldn't be for a long, long time to come. But I wanted something again, and wanting something was the first step to healing. I wanted this. I wanted Deana and Hannah.

* * *

Hannah and I walked into Deana's house. She turned around, a wide, goofy smile on her face. I kissed her too, and she giggled. "You have a bit of Mom's lipstick on you."

"Oh shit, sorry."

"Don't be. I don't mind."

"But it's going to take some getting used to."

"Yes. Come on. Let's go upstairs. And tonight, I want to have silly, fun sex. Not sweet, make-me-fall-in-love-with-you-even-more sex."

I caught her arm. "Love, Hannah?"

"Oh come on. Of course. You told me you love me. I love you. And I know Mom does too." She caressed my face and kissed my nose. "We love you, Nick."

"This is not how I expected this conversation and Deana and I to go," I said, following her upstairs.

"I don't think it would have, if you didn't try to tell me the truth before we hooked up. You cared about us so much you put it all on the line. And you were so gentle with Mom after I saw you two together."

"Yeaaah, speaking of, how much did you see?"

We entered her room and she was already pulling up her dress as she kicked off her heels. "I woke up a little while before you made her... um... come. When I realized what must be going on, I couldn't believe it. I was so angry, because everything with Brandon and... but then I stood at the top of the stairwell and listened to you two talk and I knew it wasn't like you were, you know, doing it to be awful. You needed each other. And that was really beautiful and wonderful. I needed that too. So I seduced you."

"With the magic of the booty."

"You are always going to be such a dork."

I undressed her, trying not to tear the clothes off her in my haste to get her on that bed. Standing behind her when she was left in nothing but a thong, I gripped her ass and kissed her shoulder blade. "Your mom keeps pushing for us to be a couple. She says when you and I are one, it should just be the two of us. But Hannah, I care about her too."

She reached behind herself to take one of my hands and bring it to her breast. "Good. She deserves to be happy too."

As reluctant as I was to let go of Hannah, she had her mind set on action, and right the hell then and there. Wriggling free of my roaming hands, she twisted and plucked at the buttons to my shirt and jeans quickly, her eyes focused on my chest and abs. I kissed her as she got me down to my briefs, her hands gripping the elastic edges and tugging them down.

But it was Hannah's show that night and here was the bossy girl I knew from my teenage years, moving me like a marionette to the bed, pushing me down onto it, and when I tried to rise up to kiss her again, shoving my shoulders down.

"Uh uh. I'm riding that face."

And that is exactly what she did, ladies and gentlemen. With my legs hanging off the bed, I clung to her hips as she first lowered herself onto my mouth and then rode me with hard grinds of her hips. That night was the first time I experienced what a greedy lover Hannah could be, and I loved it. When she decided to take what she wanted from me, I always got as good as I gave. The thrill of her rocking on my face, the wetness soaking my mouth and chin, the string of orgasms she barely needed me for, they left me so fucking hard I would have come if I stroked myself for even just a minute.

And the words that spilled out of her? Fuck, that was hot too.

"Mmm, eat me, Nick, eat my fucking pussy, that's it, you're MY stud now, mine whenever I want it, oh fuck, ohhhhh, I'm going to fucking come on your face again, I'm gonna come I'm going... ohhhh-OH!"

But I did have my limits, and when she came for the third time like that, I grabbed her by the waist and yanked her off me. She pouted but I was already moving, sliding out from under her and off the bed and positioning her on the edge of it. Well, I say "positioning," but it was more like I yanked her back to the edge. I dropped to grab my wallet and my condoms again, and she growled over her shoulder, "Get tested, get tested, get tested, because I want that fucking dick in my pussy."

I shot upright, my last two condoms in hand. I slapped her ass as I tossed the extra onto the bed and quickly rolled on the other. She tensed and threw back her head as I shoved deep inside her, sure now she could take my length and she was ready for it good and hard.

"Take it, Hannah, take every fucking inch," I said, not sure who this dirty-talking guy was that emerged that day, but feeling more natural than I did that morning with her mother.

"Y-yes, every inch, oh my God, fuck me hard like that, fuck me baby..."

I was none too gentle when I gripped her ass, digging my fingers deep in her tight curves. Holy shit, did I love the sight of her thrusting back at me, one arm bent and her hand beside her neck, the fingers moving uncontrollably, the entirety of her body lost to pleasure.

And she felt so fucking good, too. It was wildly different than sex with Deana. Deana was warm and comfortable. Hannah's pussy pulled at my cock, tried to keep it in her tight depths. I was almost too much for her, but she never once complained. Just the opposite.

"Oh, oh fuck, Nick, harder, take me harder."

My hand at her waist went to her shoulder and I threw myself into the fucking, holding her in place while I rammed her sweet cunt. This was how I used to fantasize about her most, on her knees in front of me, that ass slapping back. My blood thundered in my ears at a fantasy fulfilled, and for a while, my mind was a haze of pure animalistic lust.

"Oh, ohhhhh, oh FUCK!" she wailed out, and came again.

Her pussy quaked around me and I held my cock deep. Hannah yanked off me and I grunted my frustration, but she gasped, "On your back."

I hurried onto the bed and dropped onto her pillows. She scrambled on top of me, ass facing me as she dropped down onto my cock. She held a hand on one ass cheek, the other against her forehead like she might have a fever, and just like on my face, Hannah rode me. The physical pleasure was one thing, but my God, having the sexpot sister of my best friend bucking on my cock was near divine.