Don't Deny Me Read online

  His mom was giving him the “sit down, it’s getting cold” look now.

  “Yeah, fine. Okay. Gotta go.”

  Alice sighed and muttered something he didn’t think was to the kids. Louder, she added, “Talk to you later.”

  “She’s not coming,” he told his family. “Wires got crossed, she’s got plans with her niece and nephew.”

  “That’s nice, that she does things with her niece and nephew.” Mary gave him a pointed look, then at her own boys, who’d barely ever given Mick the time of day as little kids and sure didn’t now that they’d become teenagers. “What a nice break for her sister, to have a whole Sunday afternoon to herself.”

  “Her sister gets killer migraines, maybe you’d like one of those?”

  Mary rolled her eyes, but didn’t keep poking him. Dinner was good. It always was. And nobody pestered him about why Alice had made other plans instead of being here with the family, though her absence was keenly felt by Mick because of the empty chair next to him. He’d been looking forward to some of Mom’s amazing home cooking, then maybe hitting the hardware store later to pick up a new faucet for Alice’s leaking kitchen faucet. She hadn’t mentioned it, but he’d noticed yesterday that it dripped. He could fix that, no sweat, the way he’d taken care of her squeaking drawer and the oil change for her car. That’s what a man did, he took care of his girl.

  He could still do those things for her, he guessed, even if it wasn’t today. But that still meant he wasn’t going to get to see her, and that flat-out sucked. He checked his phone at the table, though his mom always scolded about that, but Alice hadn’t texted him.

  Jimmy and Jack argued about professional wrestling. Mary ignored her husband, who honestly probably didn’t give a damn that he was being given the cold shoulder. Dad shoveled food into his mouth as fast as Mom could put it on the plate for him, and Mom spent so much time getting up and down to bring stuff in from the kitchen that finally, Mick lost all patience.

  “Mom, sit, I’ll get it,” he told her when she’d hopped up for another set of serving spoons. “You sit.”

  In the kitchen, he got more spoons and another beer, then checked his phone again for a text. Still nothing from Alice. She was busy with the kids, he reminded himself.

  He wanted her there.

  “I wrapped this up so you could take it home,” his mother said in the kitchen as he was getting ready to leave. She pushed a plate of chicken and potatoes at him. “There’s plenty for you and Alice, too, if she’s hungry later.”

  “I’m not seeing her tonight, Mom.” Mick took the food, knowing it was too much. He’d eat some of it and end up tossing the rest.

  His mother didn’t look surprised. “Your dad likes her, you know. Alice. Says she’s a keeper.”

  “What? Dad told you that?” Mick couldn’t recall his father espousing an opinion on much of anything, much less Mick’s romantic partners. There’d been that awkward condom talk in high school, but beyond that, Dad had never even seemed to acknowledge Mick having any sort of love life.

  Mom, on the other hand, had always had an opinion about the girls Mick dated, especially, it seemed, the ones he did not bring home. Now she bustled around the kitchen, wiping at the counters. “Yep. Dad says she’s a smart one. I like her, too. It’s too bad she had plans today.”

  Mick frowned. “I didn’t know. I figured she’d come to dinner, Mom. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m not mad.” His mom gave him a fond look and a shake of her head. “Next time, I’m sure you’ll give her plenty of notice.”

  From Mary the remark might’ve sounded snide, but Mick had never known his mom to be that way. Sometimes subtly passive aggressive, but never harsh. “She’ll come next week.”

  “That’ll be fine.” From the next room came raised voices, Jimmy and Jack shouting at the television, Mary shouting something at one of her sons. Mom gave Mick a long look. “You’re a lot like your dad, Mickey. You know that?”

  “I’ve heard it a few times, yeah.” Mick had his dad’s blue eyes and dark hair, but then, all the McManus kids did.

  His mom laughed and folded the dishcloth neatly before putting her hands on her hips. “Do you know that I almost married Gino Batistelli?”

  “Gino from Gino’s Dairy Dell? Get out of here.” Gino’s was the best hoagie shop back in his mom’s hometown. Mick hadn’t been there in years, not since Gam and Pap died.

  “Yes. Just think, I could’ve been the hoagie queen of Elk County.” Mom leaned against the counter. “Gino was great, and we had a lot of fun together. But I really liked your dad a lot more. There was this little problem he had, though.”

  Mick got a plastic shopping bag from the drawer where his mom kept them and settled his foil-wrapped packages inside. “What was it?”

  “Your father,” Mom said, “never really figured out how to open his mouth and tell me how he felt about me.”

  Mick laughed. “Yeah? No kidding. Dad’s never been a talker.”

  His mother shook her head, but as fondly as she had earlier. “No. He never has been. And you’re like he is, Mickey, except that you got my dad’s, your Pap’s, golden tongue. So you talk a lot but you don’t say the right things, do you?”

  This stopped him. “Huh?”

  “Do you like Alice?”

  “Yeah. Of course I do. I like her a lot.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “She ought to,” Mick said.

  “Do you tell her?”

  Mick frowned. “Sure. I mean … well, I do stuff for her.”

  “Your dad was always doing stuff for me, too. Still does. The difference,” Mom said, “is that now I know what it means when he rotates my tires.”

  “Are you saying I need to rotate Alice’s tires? I just changed her oil.”

  Mom sighed and shook her head again with an expression Mick had long grown used to. “No. I’m saying that if you like her, you’d better tell her so, or else she might end up marrying a Gino.”

  “Mom, we’re not even talking about getting married,” Mick said uncomfortably.

  His mother shook her head again, looking pained. “Of course you’re not. You tell Alice I asked after her, though. You’ll do that?”

  “Sure, Mom.” He had no idea why it mattered but if his mother wanted to send her regards, he’d be sure to pass them along.

  At home, he busied himself catching up on all the stuff that went ignored while he was at Alice’s. Laundry, bill paying, a few DVR’d shows he wanted to see before the next episodes came out. He fell asleep on the couch and by the time he woke up, it was close to 9:00 P.M. He’d missed a phone call and a video chat request from Alice.

  She was probably in bed already. They’d been up until four this morning, doing things that twitched his dick at the memory, but it was a hollow arousal now. Dammit, Mick thought as he loaded the dishwasher and started it running and set the coffeemaker for the morning, he wanted her here.

  Settling at his kitchen table with his laptop, he pinged her. The video chat program rang for so long he was sure she wasn’t going to answer, but right before he was about to give up, the screen shifted from showing his whole face to putting him in a tiny box in the lower corner, with Alice full screen.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “Hi.” She yawned. Her hair was wet, and she wore a thin tank top that clung to every curve.

  Damn, he liked it when she wore that shirt. “You’re in bed, huh?”

  “Well,” she said, wryly amused, “when you keep me up until it’s almost sunrise …”

  “I like it when you keep me up.”

  She made a face, but looked pleased. She settled back against her pillows. She must’ve been using her tablet, because the view shifted for a woozy, unsettling minute before she adjusted. At least, until everything went dark.

  “Oops,” she said as she came back into view. “Gotta prop you up.”

  Mick made a little whoop-whoop and pushed upward with his hands. “Prop