Skipping Stones - COMPLETE

Chapter 8

GLANCING OVER MY shoulder, I give Drew a weak smile. It's like we were caught doing something far worse than what we were. By all practical purposes, we weren't doing anything wrong. Although, I was wishing we were. All I wanted was for him to kiss me, for him to take my mind to a place where coherent thoughts were no longer able to be formed.

"Who's the boy?" Papa grumbles as we start to walk back to the house.

"His name is Drew."

"Drew who?"

Oh, I know what this is. This is the fatherly inquisition. Except, he's not my father. My father is dead. He's my grandfather, who now must feel obliged to play the fatherly role. I swallow back the tears as moments of lost father/daughter dances move before my eyes. I hesitate to answer as I think about the lonely walk down the aisle one day to a husband, maybe it will be Drew.

"Alex. Drew who?" Papa reminds me of his impending question.

"Drew Foster."

"I don't know any Fosters from 'round here." It's not so much a statement. It's more of him thinking out loud. "Did he just move here?"

"Yeah. He said a couple of months ago."

"Well, just be careful. This neighborhood isn't what it once was. A bunch of riff-raff these days. I don't want you gettin' mixed up with trouble."

I draw out my 'okay' for dramatic effect. He knows nothing about Drew. While I don't know much, I do know that he's been the only person able to get me to feel like I'm not connected to a lead ball that is sinking into the ocean, thousands of miles beneath the surface. He's been the air my lungs can't seem to find in any other way or place.

"He seems nice. When I'm with him, I can kind of forget."

"Forget what?"

My chin starts to quiver again, squeezing my throat in the process. "Forget everything I've lost."

"Everything we've all lost, Alex."

"I know, Papa. I know."

"Your family's here for you. You just have to let us in. Anything you need."

I shake my head, but then it occurs to me that I do need something. It's what Drew is providing for me. "Just a friend."

"You have friends."

"Not here."

"There are a lot of people who love and care about you. There's Joshua and Jason from church. You know they've always liked you, right?"

I giggle, "Yeah. I don't like them the way they like me, Pop."

"Then there's Kayleigh and Malia from church."

I glare at him. "Pop, they don't like me."

"Awe, who could not like my Ali Lou?"

Rolling my eyes, I answer, "Mean girls who smile and act fake for the adults."

"Whatever you say. I just think there are people here who care about you."

I nod. "Okay." It's not worth the argument, even a playful argument. I don't have the energy for that. "What about my friends back home? Like Charlie?"

We're nearing the house. It took longer than usual because we've walked at a snail's pace. Papa can't seem to get around quite like he used to. I can see the cars have all left. I hook my arm in his as I look up into his teary brown eyes right before he looks away. "I'm not sure, Alex. I'm not sure how to do any of this."