Ch. 11

On our way back home, both Duane and I are silent except for my occasional sniffles and the scuffs of our shoes on the pavement. I really want to hurry up and get home so that I can get myself cleaned up. While crying may have made me feel better, I highly doubt it's made me look better. I'm sure I look just awful what with my red, runny nose and puffy, equally red eyes… The situation is anything but uncomfortable, though. Somehow, just the fact that he is here with me makes me feel okay.

As we start to near my house, I glance across the street and notice a silver car I've never seen before. It appears to be an Aston Martin. I'm not sure why it would be there. There aren't any houses across from mine. It's just a bunch of trees. What's more is I see the man in the driver's seat just start to get out, but he pauses looking at Duane and me through the windshield, then decides to close his door, start his car and drive away. It's incredibly weird. I couldn't have scared him off, could I? Could I really look that bad? I really hope not. I'd rather it just be a weird circumstance. Duane doesn't seem to have noticed anything. Maybe it's just me.

Of course I should've figured that as Duane and I start up my driveway, there is Tom standing on the porch waiting like a father worrying about his daughter's first date. He's probably been waiting ever since we left. I can tell by a change in his serious demeanor that he's taken notice of my face. Now I regret having ever cried.

He meets us halfway up the drive and puts his hands on my shoulders, trying to get a good look at my face. "Angel, are you okay?" He turns on Duane then, stepping closer to him. "What'd you do?"

I quickly step in between them. The last thing we need is a fight to break out and obviously Tom's looking for any excuse to start one, not even caring about an explanation. "Whoa, Tom, relax! He didn't do anything."

Duane merely looks at Tom with his intense eyes, face expressionless as usual.

Tom steps back but doesn't take his glare off of Duane. He puts an arm around me and tugs me close to him. "I think it'd be best for you to go now," he says.

Hearing this, I shrug out of his grasp and look at him. What right does he think he has to tell my guests what to do? I'm not about to let him think he can get away with this. "No, wait just a minute."

Tom looks at me and I can tell he didn't expect this turn of events. He's quickly losing what control he thinks he has over the situation and has no one to back him up. This is not something he's used to.

"Tom, you can go," I say quietly.

Several beats go by and he simply stares at me not believing what he has just heard. "What?"

"You heard me. All of you, you can go…except Duane. He can stay."

Tom gawks at me. "Are you out of your mind? Angie, we were here in your time of need. I was here. Now you're throwing your best friends out for some freak stranger?"

"I didn't ask for you to-" I stop myself. Blowing up is not the solution. I am clenching my jaw, balling my hands into fists, doing my best not to explode because if I do I'm not sure just how far it will go. That and it's just really not necessary. I can feel myself shaking with frustration, but then Duane puts a gentle hand upon my shoulder and it all seems to melt away. I feel like I can breathe and think straight for a moment, like I'm no longer seeing red.

"Tom," he speaks softly.

In an instant, Tom is right back in his face with a finger. "No, don't talk to me. In case you haven't gotten the hint: I don't like you very much. You don't know me and you're not my friend, so you have no right to tell me anything. Just keep your mouth shut."

Duane seems unfazed. He continues, "If you really care about her, you'll go."

There's absolute silence, but I can tell Tom is seething on the inside. He looks at me, but I can't meet his gaze. I don't know why. I shouldn't feel bad for this…should I? I'm not replacing anyone here, but I just need some space. Somehow Duane just lets me feel free in a way I've never known before. He makes me feel like maybe I can start healing and fixing my problems, like maybe there's hope. And the crew seems to be part of the problem, so it seems like it would only be right to distance myself while I try and figure things out, right?

Tom sharply turns from us, storming back into the house and it isn't long before he and the entire crew is marching back out. They look at me with concerned, questioning glances as they silently file into their cars. Tom slams the front door shut causing me to jump. He struts over to me and leans in close to my face. "Don't expect us around anytime soon, traitor," he growls before getting in his car and speeding off with the others.

After a long beat, I finally make myself peek up at Duane and find him looking back at me. I sigh, feeling defeated and embarrassed, and look away. I'm not sure of what to say except, "I'm sorry."

He remains quiet.

"I just don't know how much more I can take. You shouldn't have to go through this stupid drama… It's just so incredibly-"

"Hey."

I look up at him once more. He has my complete attention.

"This is a good thing. Now you can focus on yourself and working out your problems. Once you've done that, then you can branch out to your friends, help them, and hopefully everything will be better for all of you. I'm fine, I promise. All I'm concerned about is you."

It takes me a long moment of just looking at him and letting it all sink in before I nod silently.

"I suppose I should go home."

"No! Oh, please stay. I'd love if you'd stay for dinner, otherwise I'd be having it by myself since my friends left and my parents are out. I'd really enjoy your company."

His eyes rest on me for a second before looking across the street. After a moment he turns to me again and says, "Okay."

"Just let me put Max in the backyard. He still hasn't gotten used to you. I don't know why. It's really not like him."

Duane nods to me and I head inside to a barking, snarling Max. I rein him in and set him free in the fenced-in backyard. I make my way back to the front door to see Duane on the porch staring off into the trees across the street with his hands in his pockets. I can't help but take a moment to watch him and take him in. It just confounds me how someone could be so beautiful. It's like he's an angel or something. He has to be. "Hey," I say finally.

He turns to me.

"It's safe now. You can come in."

He gracefully steps inside the house and I shut the door, locking it. "Thank you," he says gazing down at me with those eyes of his. A hint of a smile plays upon his lips.

I look back up at him, unable to help smiling myself. "Sure."

I can feel my heart start to pound and excitement start to swell up inside me. It's sinking in. I can't believe I have such an amazing guy in my house! And one that seems to actually care at that! My inner 13 year old girly-girl is squealing on the inside. My excitement is short lived however as I remember that I have cry-face. I can't imagine how I must look. My eyes quickly fall to the floor as insecurity makes its presence. "You know, I really should go get cleaned up. While all that crying may be good for me emotionally, it does nothing for me physically, so if you'd just excuse me-"

"You look fine."

My eyes rest back on him. His lips are still posed in that light smile and his eyes hold no judgment. For a moment I almost believe him. I really feel like he means his words. However, the power of feminine insecurity cannot be crushed. "I'll just be a moment," I say before scampering upstairs to my room.

Upon reaching it, I immediately glance in my mirror. I guess Duane was right. The damage isn't too bad. There is hardly any sign I'd cried, no redness at all. I did look okay…but just okay. Sighing, I collapse backwards onto my bed and stare at the ceiling feeling incredibly average. How am I going to do this? There's a very fine guy in my house and I'm alone with him. This can go really good or really bad. Conversation seems like it could be a task. He's not exactly Chatty Cathy. I'm not even sure if I have anything to do that he might find even remotely entertaining and he's got quite the unique personality. It seems like forever since I've done this. Maybe if we burned something… No. Doyle help me. What did we do for fun, just the two of us? I groan and cover my face with my hands. It's only a second later when I hear a knock on my doorframe that I jolt up to see Duane. "Duane…"

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just got lost in my thoughts, sorry."

"May I come in?"

I pause, looking him up and down. I've never been asked that. This is certainly different, very polite. "Yeah, sure. Mi casa…" I drift off looking at the floor.

Duane quietly steps into my room gradually taking it all in: my tall, white four-poster bed with light purple sheets and lots of pillows, my unicorn posters, my dresser, and my bookshelf with all of my books and knickknacks. Finally, he moves towards the pictures I have on my mirror and looks at them for a long while before asking, "Is this Doyle?"

I nod as he points him out.

He turns around to face me. "He was a handsome guy. He loved you very much."

"How can you tell? I mean, what makes you say that?"

"It's obvious. The connection you had with him and have with your friends today… I must admit I'm a tad jealous." He makes his way to lean against the bedpost at the foot of my bed. "Then again, I'm not, because I feel that the two of us are building something special."

I look up at him and he returns the gesture. This is totally a kissing moment. I shift my gaze to his very kissable looking lips, then close my eyes a moment before looking back into his. They seem so sincere, caring, non-pressuring… I can't kiss him now. I don't want to screw this thing up. He's the one thing that's given me peace. That and well, what about Lucy? It's just not right. "Yeah, me too. Duane, you really seem like a wonderful person and I don't think I will ever be able to thank you enough for what you've done. Seriously, you don't know how much it means to me. Thank you."

He nods. "Thank you as well. Your kindness is quite refreshing and I realize it has caused some tension among you and your friends, but I do believe that if we continue, things will be better in the end."

I smile and nod. I really hope he's right. It would be so great; things would be so much better if everyone was happy. This is totally a hugging moment and it makes me happy that as I lean in to embrace him, he reciprocates the action. The feeling I get when I feel his arms around me is something new, different. His body seems cool in temperature and there seems to be some sort of energy or electricity. My body seems to hum at his touch. I simply dismiss it as pure excitement. That's all it could be. I am very happy, possibly the happiest I've been in a while. I hold onto him firmly and it just feels so right with my head on his chest. The feeling of his hand moving up and down my back is extremely soothing and almost makes me want to go to sleep. When it is time to let go, I am left with a dull, empty feeling.

I glance at my clock. It's a little past 6:30, late enough for dinner. "So, um, what would you like for dinner? I'm not sure what we have, but you know, we could do the classic takeout of Chinese or pizza. I don't care."

"How about I raid your pantry and surprise you?"

Is he seriously offering to cook for me? While it's always sort of been a dream of mine for a guy to do that, I can't let him do this. "No, Duane, I can't let you do that. You're the guest and all-"

"I insist, my lady," he says gently taking my hand, sweeping me off the bed and out through the door. "You deserve it after all that you've been through."

I giggle as he sweeps me down the stairs. Moving past the living room and into the kitchen, he picks me up by the waist with unusual ease and sits me on top of the counter. I am absolutely beaming. This guy has to be the most charming person I've ever met. He has to have a flaw though. Everyone does. I'm curious as to what it is, but I don't dwell on it for long. "Should I be scared? I mean, you do know how to cook, right?"

"Oh, yes. Fear not. You will be in heaven when I'm through with you," he says casting me a sly smile.

I watch him as he rummages through the fridge, the freezer, and our spice rack, pulling out a multitude of things that I honestly didn't know we had and didn't think would make a good combination of anything. He works quickly, moving around me with ease and fluidity, and it isn't long before the kitchen begins to fill up with delicious scents that make my stomach start to growl.

After a short while, Duane announces," Time to eat."

"Finally. All this watching you play around with food has me starved."

"Well, good," he says as he places food onto a plate. "This is my New York inspired meal. For the main entrée we will be dining on some very delicious Buffalo Chicken Rolls. It's chicken breast marinated in hot sauce and filled with shredded Provolone cheese served with Ranch or Bleu Cheese dressing and a side of New York Rye Bread."

I watch as he cuts off a piece of chicken and stabs it with a fork, then hesitates over the choice of dressings. "Ranch, please," I say and watch as he dips the chicken in it, then brings it to my lips. I take a bite and nearly melt as the flavor envelopes me. It's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted.

"Do you like it?" he questions trying to read my face for a response.

I open my eyes and look at him. "I love it! Where- How did you learn to cook like this? It's absolutely amazing!"

He grins. "Why thank you. It's just something I like to do. I suppose you could call it a hobby. Try this," he says and guides a piece of the bread into my mouth.

I let the flavor and texture float over my tongue and nod in approval. "You're really good at it. This is so tasty!"

He smiles as he pops a piece of chicken with Bleu Cheese into his mouth and I grab another piece myself. It seems even better than the first bite.

I look at Duane leaning against the counter next to me and find him looking back at me. We eat in silence for a few minutes, but it's not really awkward or anything. It's actually quite nice. I'm really glad he's here. It's so much better than dealing with one of Tom's tantrums. Change is looking pretty good so far. "So, do you have dessert planned?" I ask while taking another bite of bread. The food is pretty much gone already. I really must've been hungry, and then again he only cooked a small portion of it, but it was the perfect size: enough to be eaten and enough to sate my hunger.

"It may seem cliché, but since this is New York themed, I have prepared what is known as Mary's Cheesecake."

"I can't wait. I'm a big fan of cheesecake."

"You won't have to," he says pulling a small cake from the fridge covered in strawberries. "Granted I did this in sort of a rush, I'm not sure how good it will be."

I watch him as he cuts out a slice of the cake and puts it on a plate. Then, he severs off a small piece with a fork and guides it into my mouth. I nearly die. It is so rich, but so fantastic. It's so smooth and creamy… It only makes it better that such a beautiful guy is feeding it to me. It's like a dream come true. "This is what you create in a rush?"

"It's good?"

"Way beyond 'good'. It's out of this world! You should be a chef or maybe start your own restaurant. Seriously, Duane, this is amazing."

He laughs lightly. "Thank you. It means a lot to me that you like it," he says as he begins to clean up the kitchen.

"You're not going to have any?" I ask gesturing to the cake.

"I'm not really a desserts person," he responds carrying on about his business.

I give an understanding nod and take another bite of cheesecake. I am going to go into a coma if I continued this. I start to put my fork down, but decide to have just one more bite. It is just too good.

With that, I hop down from the counter and open a cabinet drawer to dig out some plastic wrap. I pull some over the rest of the cheesecake and put it into the refrigerator. Duane cleans up what is left of the slice I'd eaten.

I lean against the cabinet and he turns to me. "So, what would you like to do?" I question. "I think there might be a good Spanish soap opera on TV."

It is then that I hear the familiar sound of the front door being unlocked and opened. "Angelina? You home?" my mother calls.

Wonderful, the parents are home. "Yes, in the kitchen," I call and turn back to Duane. "My parents. I didn't think they'd be back this early," I say glancing at the clock. It's only 8:45.

We watch as my parents file into the kitchen. "Oh, honey, I didn't realize you had friends over," Mom states.

"Yep. Mom, Dad, this is Duane. He's a friend from school. Duane, these are my parents."

"Hi," he says shaking my mother's hand and then my father's.

"It's nice to meet you," Mom says.

"Yes, very," Dad adds. "I don't think we've seen you around."

"Yes, I recently moved here," Duane answers. "A little over a week ago from New York."

"Oh really? Well, this must be sort of a shock to you then. It's not quite as fast-paced here, obviously. Where are you living?"

"My parents bought the house at the end of the block. The Ferdinand House I believe it's called."

Dad nods and I see a skeptical look flash across my mother's eyes, but it's long gone when she asks," So, have you two eaten?" The kids around here aren't the only one who have heard the stories about that house. The parents will say that they would never believe such foolish stories, but I know they have their questions.

"Yeah," I answer. "Duane actually cooked. It was amazing. You should've been here to try some. There's still some cheesecake left in the fridge, but I'm warning you: it's very rich."

"That was very nice of you, Duane. I appreciate you taking care of our girl," my mother says smiling brightly and giving me a squeeze.

I groan jokingly and shrug out of her grasp. "Stop it, Mom." I can tell she's beginning to get her suspicions about if this could turn out to be a flaming romance for me. I know moms can have girly moments, because they were once girls, too, but I know that even though she'd never tell me, she's been concerned about me dealing with Doyle's death. Me bringing a boy home signals to her that things are looking brighter for me, which is good, because I don't like for her to worry.

"I guess I should be going. It was nice to meet you," he says acknowledging my parents.

They nod to him and I walk with him to the front door. "Well," I sigh feeling a little disappointed that such a good day is ending. "Thanks for everything."

"Sure," he responds. "Listen, I think you should take my number, just in case you need anything."

Is he being completely serious right now? He's really giving me his number? While I kind of wished it would happen, I never really expected it to happen quite this soon. "Yeah, okay. That sounds good."

I take out my cell phone from my pocket and key in the numbers as he reels them off to me, all the while beaming on the inside. "Done and done," I say flipping my phone closed.

"Good. Have a good night, Angie."

I open the door and watch him walk out. "Bye," I say and watch him as he strolls down the driveway and onto the sidewalk.

I smile and close the door. I stand there not believing how this day has turned out. I would rank it up there with one of my best days ever. Sure it started off okay, then it got worse, but then it got immensely better. I do a mini cheer and grab my cell phone to call Lucy and tell her about everything, but I stop just as I begin to push the 'send' button. I remember how she feels about Duane. I close my phone. I can't hurt her that way. It's better if she doesn't know.

Still, maybe I should call her and try and explain what happened earlier with Tom. I dial her number again and press the 'send' button this time. "Hello?"

"Lucy!"

"Angie? Oh, my gosh, woman, it feels like forever since we've talked! What happened today? Tom was fuming. I've never, hardly ever seen him like that."

"I know. What'd he tell you?" I trust Tom with my life, but when he gets angry, he tells the how the situation happened his way, not really the rational way.

"Just stuff like you'd rather be with Duane than us and it was time to get out."

"That's not true, you know it isn't. You know how Tom gets when he doesn't get his way. I love you guys. No one could ever replace any of you. Tom just blew up and wouldn't let me explain."

"Chickadee, I know. I mean, I figured there was something more going on, but we figured we'd let you have your space. So, you have to tell me: did anything happen after we left, with Duane?"

I hesitate before deciding it would be better to stay vague. "No, nothing special. We just hung out and then he left."

I honestly can't tell if she sounds relieved or disappointed when she says, "Oh…"

I am quiet.

She is the same.

"So, yeah, I just wanted to call and make sure things are okay with us."

"Everything is fine, Angie. Pinky promise swear."

There's another pause as I debate on whether to say what I think I should or not.

"Angie? If there's something else, say it already. I'm dying in this silence."

"It's just… I kind of need some space for a while. There's some things I need to sort out and well, Duane is kind of helping me with it all and I just want you to know that I'm not abandoning you guys."

"Okay."

She doesn't sound her usual perky self. Maybe it's just me being so afraid of her reaction that I'm making it come to life in my mind. "It'll be for the better, I promise," I say not really knowing if I'm trying to reassure her or myself.

"Okay. Do what you have to. I believe you."

"Thanks. Give my love to everyone and I love you."

"You too."

"Ciao."

"Goodbye, Angie."

I hang up, somehow feeling worse than what I thought I might. Maybe it would've been best to have not called at all. I know Lucy's probably worried sick thinking that since we are going to be spending time together, something is going to happen between Duane and me. There's no way for her not to. Suspicion will drive her nuts. She does have a right to be suspicious though. I mean Duane does seem like the perfect guy and I will admit that there are some butterflies starting to grow whether I like it or not. Everything about this seems like it could spell trouble, but I'm just going to keep going and see where it takes me.

Sighing, I go and let Max back inside. He licks and jumps on me trying to tell me that he's missed me. "I'm sorry, boy, but I know how you feel about Duane. Today's been a draining day and I'm tired so what do you say we go to bed?"

He barks and I head upstairs with him right on my heels.