“Good, got everything done and I'm feeling confident about upcoming tests. How’d unpacking go?” Kingston questioned, the last portion of his statement whispered so only Jesse and I could hear.
“A bit rough at first, but we got all the boxes open and over half of them unpacked,” I told them quietly.
“Thank you for doing that, Em,” Jesse murmured, kissing me on the cheek.
“Of course. I don’t like seeing him so sad,” I explained, a conspiratorial smile spreading across my face. “And the fact that once he’s unpacked he’s stuck with us forever definitely doesn’t hurt.”
“Exactly what he told you when you first arrived.” Jesse put two and two together with a laugh. “Clever girl.”
“Yes, she is,” Reid added, dipping down far enough to kiss me on the cheek. “Also, you three need to work on your whispering skills.”
“Says the person who’s one of the least subtle people known to man,” King challenged with a brow raise.
“Actually, I find Lyla to be more obvious than Reid,” I countered, laughing as I remembered our ridiculous conversation earlier in the week.
“Yeah? What’d she do now?” Reid asked, sinking in a chair at the table. My cheeks flared, but before I could fail miserably at coming up with a decoy story, my phone started to ring. Digging out my phone, I saw my mom was the one calling, and my good mood immediately tanked.
“Hey, Mom,” I greeted, letting the guys know it was her.
“Are you on your way home?” No hello or ‘how was school’ like Stella did. My lips thinned in irritation, but I held back the urge to snap.
“I wasn’t planning on it quite yet. Is there something you need?” I tried to ask as politely as I could.
“Yes, I need you home in the next little while. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, and I expect you there,” she told me sharply. The tone wasn’t surprising, but the actual content of her statement shocked me.
“Uhm, all right, I’ll head home now. See you soon,” I said, but my mom cut me off with a snappy ‘good’ before hanging up. Grinding my teeth, I pulled my phone from my ear and straightened fully. “Being called home for food with my mom so no dinner for me. Thank you though!”
“All right, dear, we can either save you some or make it again in the next weekend or two!” Stella called out as I gave the guys quick hugs before darting to the front hall. As much as I wanted to take my time saying goodbye, I knew I shouldn’t poke the bear, so I hurriedly grabbed my things and got into my car.
Please let my mom not have some kind of grounding or other punishment up her sleeve, I mentally pleaded.
I don’t know if I can handle another grounding.
10
February 20th
When put to the test about the boys, it seems Sam doesn’t judge. At least that makes one of my biological parents.
#ClarkFamilyDinners #LikeFatherLikeDaughter #ThankfulThursday
The drive home was quick, yet for whatever reason, I couldn’t seem to relax. It could have been that conversations between my mom and me ended in an argument more often than not—and her tone had definitely not been pleased on the phone—or it could have been that everything seemed negative lately. Whatever it was, I tried my best to take a few calming breaths as I pulled onto our street. As soon as I did, I realized why I had been called home. There was an unfamiliar car in the driveway—a Dodge Durango. If I had to guess, I’d say it belonged to Sam.
“At least I finally get to have dinner with her,” I grumbled under my breath as I put my car in park. “Sucks that it only happened because I need a ‘model father figure in my life.’” My tone and words were begrudging and mocking as I paraphrased what my mom had told me last week. Shoving the irritation away, I got out and headed inside.
“Ah, good,” I heard my mom say as I shut the door. “Food’s finishing up now.”
“What are we having?” I asked as I shed my coat and boots.
“Taco salad,” Sam answered. I was glad I was still on the small landing of the front door where they couldn’t see my lips curl down in a frown.
Chili sounded so much better.
Even if Nebraskans are weird and eat it with cinnamon rolls.
“It’s good to see you again, Emma. Would it be weird if I asked how school was today?” Sam questioned with a small chuckle, looking as lost as I was on the whole ‘small talk’ thing.
“You too. It was good, nothing special,” I spouted, skipping over the run in with the assistant principal. There is no way in heck I’m bringing that up to my very strict mother.
“Emma, can you set the table, please?” my mom cut in before either Sam or I could say much else. Nodding, I got to work, but every few seconds I was either running into my mom or having to shift out of Sam’s way.
Note to self, have a decent-sized space when I live with the guys.
At that thought, I paused. It was something that was such a big step and it floated so casually through my mind. We’d only been together for a few months at this point, yet it felt like they were such an integral part of my life that I couldn’t imagine a future without them. It was crazy, and I tried to chalk it up to being young, being surrounded and supported by them at such a vulnerable point in my life. Except I knew it was deeper than that.
Realizing I was just standing there staring into the abyss, I finished setting the table. Sam finished whipping up what looked like chocolate pudding and stashed it in the fridge before joining my mom and me at the table. The meal was good, and thankfully my mom kept most of her judgmental glances and snide comments to herself. Before I knew it, dinner was done.
“Oh, this is Travis from the Parvin project. I’ll be back. Feel free to start on the dessert,” my mom explained as her phone started to ring. Even though her words made it seem like she was talking to both of us, her eyes were only on Sam, and I couldn’t help but notice a regret in her eyes that I hadn’t seen directed toward me in months. Good to know that she only feels bad about missing out on time with Sam but not me.
“So, Sam,” I started as soon as she was out of the room, feeling infinitely more comfortable with him than her, which was saying something seeing as how he was almost a stranger and my mom was well… my mom. “What exactly do you do for Holden Marketing? Did you start it?”
“My father did back in the early seventies, and it stayed in the family. Took over as Vice President after I finished business school and spent a few years on the marketing team. When my father retired, I became the CEO,” he explained.
“My… grandfather…” I trailed off, feeling odd about how I had gone from a normal girl with a normal family to having two separate families to get to know in just over the course of six months.
“Yes, he’s still alive if you ever want to meet him. He lives down in Florida.”
“That would be nice,” I told him softly. “Especially the warm weather, I don’t know if my Cali roots do well in the winter.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Sam reassured warmly. “Dessert should be ready. Do you want some?”