I froze. I couldn’t believe he remembered that. “I always did love that house. I bet it looks awful now.”
He shrugged. “Nobody has lived there for about eight years. It needs a lot of work. I was inside a few years ago. It has good bones. I think, with enough money and love, it could be turned into something spectacular.”
“Well, I have zero money, so I think I’m fresh out there.”
“Give it time.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’ll be in touch when I get the blinds. We’ll set up a time for me to install them.”
My eyebrows hopped. “You’re going to do manual labor, too?”
“It’s been known to happen.” He focused on the kitten, who was suddenly wide awake and studying him with contemplative eyes. “As for him, you really should come up with a name.”
“I was thinking Poop Factory.”
He snorted. “Keep thinking. I’ll be in touch.”
Because I wasn’t quite ready for him to go, I grappled for something to say. What I came up with was weak, to say the least. “Have fun on your date. Give Monica my condolences on her eyebrows.”
He paused in the doorway. “That would require telling her how I spent my day.”
I hadn’t thought of that. “And you don’t want to do that. Fair enough. I didn’t really mean it anyway. She’s kind of mean. I’m glad her eyebrows are gone.” It wasn’t a nice thing to say, but it was the truth.
He chuckled. “Have fun at your barbecue. I really wish I could go with you, but ... I can’t.”
And that was the crux of our problems. He would never be able to open his heart to me again because I’d crushed it the first time around. I couldn’t even decide what I wanted to do with my future, so I would never risk telling him I still harbored feelings for him. I didn’t want to hurt him more than I wanted something good for myself. We were stuck ... and I didn’t see that changing.
“I’m sure the barbecue will be lovely,” I said after a beat. “I haven’t seen my mother since I’ve been back. I guarantee she’s there, and it won’t be pretty.”
“Now I’m definitely sorry I’ll miss it.”
“You just like the mayhem.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
I DRESSED IN CAPRI PANTS and a black blouse for the family barbecue. I was officially down to my last pair of clean pants, which meant a trip to the laundromat was in my future. Even though Grandpa had graciously offered the use of his machines, that would mean hanging out around his house, and the thought of that made me distinctly uncomfortable given my conversation with my grandmother earlier in the day.
The driveway was already full, so I parked on the side of the road. I could hear the younger kids in the family — the small people my cousins had already popped out — squealing and having a good time in the side yard. My grandparents went all out when it came to entertainment. They had an in-ground pool, an old-school trampoline that didn’t boast those sissy nets to keep kids safe (I mean, really, the only reason to be on a trampoline is so you can bounce someone else off it), and a full tennis court that nobody but my grandmother used. Even though we were all raised with the opportunity, there wasn’t one of us who became good at the sport.
I let myself in through the laundry room door, taking a moment to collect myself before coming face to face with my mother. It wasn’t that she was a bad person — she had good qualities — but she was always in attack mode where I was concerned. Nothing I did was ever good enough. When my book made it on The New York Times bestseller list, her first question was why I didn’t place higher.
She was simply too much, or “extra” if you will. That’s the word Alice and I had started using to describe our mothers — without risking their wrath — when they were both feeling territorial. Just for the record, they always feel territorial.
“Are you hiding out here?” David asked when he happened upon me a few minutes later. He looked amused rather than worried.
I shrugged. “I was just ... thinking.”
“About whether or not it would be smarter to flee and risk running into your mother another day?”
He knew me too well. We’d grown up together. He could read me better than most. “What do you think she’ll do if I take off?” I was genuinely curious about what his answer would be.
“Nothing good.” His expression was grim. “I believe there will be some cursing ... and then there will be some wine, because there’s always wine. She’ll use the wine to get my mom and Aunt Trina riled up. Then they’ll track you down, no matter where you hide, and embarrass the crap out of you.”
Yup. That was pretty much what I imagined them doing. “So, I should probably just suck it up and get it over with here.”
“That’s what I would do. You’ve already been embarrassed a hundred times over in front of the family. What’s one more time?”
He had a point. Still, I dragged my feet as I followed him into the house. In the kitchen, I was reunited with several aunts and uncles I hadn’t seen since I’d returned. They all greeted me with smiles and hugs, which I gladly returned, and then seemed to watch me with expectant gazes as I moved toward the formal dining room. That’s where my mother reigned.
“There she is,” Grandma called out when I appeared in the opening between the kitchen sitting area and dining room. “I was starting to wonder if you were going to show up at all. I was going to remind you about the barbecue when you stopped by earlier, but I thought it was unnecessary. Apparently not, huh?”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. I was on time, which was early given the fact that Brad’s wife had made a habit of running more than an hour late since she’d been introduced to the family. Nobody gave her grief. Apparently I was the only lucky one on that front.
“I’ve been here for a little bit,” I argued, trying to keep my temper in check. “I was talking to people in the kitchen.”
“Yes, well ... .” Grandma trailed off, her eyes shrewd as she glanced between my mother and me. “Aren’t you going to say hello to your mother?” she asked finally.
Now I had no choice. I’d been considering sitting at the opposite end of the table and forcing her to say something to me first. Grandma had taken that option out of my hands ... and I wasn’t happy about it.
“Hello, Mother,” I said darkly, my eyes finally seeking — and finding — hers. “How are you?”
There was a catch in her chest as she regarded me and I braced myself for an onslaught of passive-aggressive statements. Instead, she sucked in three steadying breaths and flashed a smile that was faker than Grandma’s bottle-blond hair. “Hello, Stormy. It’s so good to see you.” She didn’t get up and offer a hug, for which I was thankful.
“It’s good to see you, too.” I sat in a chair that was far from her reach should she decide to wrap her hands around my neck. She was playing a game — probably because Grandma had warned her about acting out — and she expected me to be the first to crumble. That wasn’t going to happen this time. I was older now, wiser. I had infinite patience.