Girl Love Happens Boxed Set: Books 0-2

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Girl Love Happens Boxed Set: Books 0-2 Page 31

by T. B. Markinson


  Mom perused the menu. “I’m thinking of the steak fajitas.”

  Dad and I exchanged a surprised look, but neither of us said anything.

  First, hitting, or whatever, on Cuddy. Now fajitas. Would wonders never cease?

  The waitress arrived with our Polaroid in hand. “Is it someone’s birthday?”

  I was about to explain, when Mom said, “My daughter is turning nineteen.”

  My birthday was a week away.

  “What can I get you folks?” asked the girl who was barely older than I was.

  When the coast was clear, I said, “I can’t believe you lied. My birthday is next week.”

  “Well, if you arrived on your due date, it would have been today.”

  Dad laughed. “She wasn’t done making you suffer. Oh, you should have seen your mom that last week. Out to here.” He held his arms out, indicating beached whale status.

  “I wasn’t that large.” Her voice had softened some. “Not with you or Glen.” She looked disapprovingly at my chest. Were my Double Ds the reason for all of my flat-chested mother’s weight comments? “And I would like to add your brother was born on his due date.”

  “And hasn’t been seen since,” Dad joked. Or, at least, I think he was joking.

  Mom harrumphed. “He won’t leave his girlfriend’s side. It’s only natural.”

  I stifled a laugh that Mom thought that was Glen’s only reason for staying away.

  “Speaking of relationships…” Mom waved to someone out of my line of sight. “Hello, handsome.”

  “Hey, Mrs. Ferber.”

  My head whipped around, and then I popped out of my seat. “Erik? What are you doing here?”

  “Just had dinner with a buddy.” He motioned to a guy disappearing into the men’s room at the far end of the floor.

  “And you just happened to choose my favorite Mexican place?” I glared at my mom, not sure how she managed it, but knowing her, anything was possible.

  Erik noticed and gave me a look to just relax. “You only mentioned this place about a hundred times. I wanted to see if you were right.”

  I put a hand on my hip. “And?”

  He smiled. “I agree. Best Mexican food in Colorado.”

  “Is April with you?”

  “No, we br—” He stopped, but the victory in my mom’s eyes made it clear she got the message. Erik was a free agent.

  “You haven’t met my dad, have you?” I rushed to get the words out.

  Still seated, Dad stuck out his hand, giving Erik’s a hard tug up and down. Neither of them seemed willing to speak. Men are so weird.

  “You staying in Colorado for the summer?” Mom asked.

  “Actually, I’m flying out”—he conferred with his watch—“in three hours.” He caught my eye and smiled. “Which is why I’m in Denver. Glad I ran into you. I stopped by your dorm last night, but you weren’t home. I wanted to give you my number.” He fished in the pocket of his army green cargo shorts for a pen and clicked it. “Do you have any paper?”

  “I didn’t bring my purse.”

  “Always so unprepared.” Mom tutted, opened her purse, and handed Erik a King Soopers’ receipt.

  Erik clicked his pen and jotted down the number on the back over the ads. “It’s long distance.” He shrugged apologetically.

  “No trouble at all, right, Tegan?” Mom beamed. “Where are you spending the summer, Erik?”

  “New York.”

  “The city?”

  He nodded.

  “How wonderful. Rick has been wanting to take Tegan to the Big Apple for years. Maybe this summer—”

  “Mom,” I interrupted. “I have a job and an internship.” Not to mention I didn’t want to spend another day apart from Gem.

  Dad studied Erik and then turned his attention to his soon-to-be ex-wife, maybe.

  “Surely you plan to take some time off. You’re only young once.” Mom tsked and pantomimed to Erik that I was being crazy.

  I hugged Erik goodbye.

  He whispered, “Stay in touch.” His hand slipped into my back pocket, securing the number. Did he fear it being in my mother’s possession?

  “Will do. And seriously, be safe.”

  He snapped a salute and bid us adieu.

  “I really like him.” Mom grinned in a creepy way.

  “We’re just friends.” I chewed on my bottom lip.

  “Your father and I started out as friends.”

  I wanted to say, “Look where that got you.” Instead, I said, “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  “What about the boy I met at the hospital?”

  “The hobbit who ran me over?” Wait. Had she been fishing for information about Cuddy on my behalf? How’d I miss that? Stupid brain injury.

  “Yes, that one.”

  Dad lifted his eyebrows. “What hobbit?”

  “His name’s Cuddy—actually Meriadoc Cuddy.”

  Dad crinkled his nose. “Weird.”

  “Yeah, totally.”

  “He seemed nice.” Mom fiddled with her napkin.

  “Not my type.”

  “Was it the long hair?” Mom pushed. “Ask him to cut it.”

  “I’d settle for him washing it.”

  “I’m sure—”

  I cut her off with a raised hand. “It wasn’t just his hair. I’m not interested in anyone.” Unless I counted a certain redhead who was hundreds of miles away in Wyoming. Each minute apart added to my suffering.

  “He gave you his number. You should call him. At least to check on him.” She wouldn’t drop it. “It’d be rude not to.”

  “He ran me over. Cuddy should be calling to check on me.” I thumped my chest.

  “Did you give him your number?” she asked, knowing full well I hadn’t.

  Sensing World War III was about to start, Dad jumped into the fray. “Ah, leave her be. She’s young. There’s no rush. Plenty of time to make friends. Date. Live.” He tossed his hands up in a c’est la vie manner.

  Mom’s mouth opened to rebut, but Dad gave her a look that screamed not to ruin the night. Miraculously, it worked.

  “I seem to remember another young lady who refused to listen to her father when it came to dating.” Dad fiddled with his fork.

  “Who?” I leaned on my elbows.

  Mom shifted in her seat.

  “Mom?”

  Dad nodded. “Your grandfather thought I was a pot-smoking hippie and forbade your mother from seeing me. Didn’t stop her.” He winked at me.

  “You went behind grandfather’s back?” I asked, shocked.

  “It wasn’t until I came back from Vietnam that I finally earned your grandpa’s respect.”

  “You looked so handsome in your uniform.” Mom’s voice was surprisingly girly.

  Dad laughed. “I had to find a job where I still wore a uniform, or your mom, not to mention grandfather, would have written me off for good.”

  I knew they had started dating before Dad joined the air force, but I’d never heard the drama surrounding their relationship.

  Dad cleared his throat. “Your mother loved my uniform so much we had to get married, if you get my drift.”

  “Rick!”

  The startled look on my mother’s face and the mischief on my father’s helped me connect the dots. “Do you mean Glen’s a—?” Before I could say “bastard,” Dad bobbed his head up and down as if he’d been dying to share this secret for years.

  “Your grandfather was none the wiser, of course. Everyone thought Glen was premature. A seven-pound, eight-ounce preemie, I might add.”

  Mom actually laughed. “People believe what they want to believe.”

  “But you said Glen was born on his due date,” I said.

  “He was, just not the due date we told everyone.” Dad looked to Mom smiled sheepishly.

  “Here you go.” The waitress arrived with our food. After handing out the dishes with the usu
al warning that the heavy ceramic plates were hot, she said, “If you need anything, raise this flag and one of us will stop by.”

  “Does Glen know?” I shoved in a bite of tamale, which I had smothered with refried beans and rice.

  “He figured it out when he had a school project that involved interviewing family members about his birth. Your grandmother, not my mom, mentioned his birth weight. Glen had always believed he was a preemie, but the number didn’t sound right and he’d asked around if a preemie could weigh that much. Today’s generation isn’t as gullible as your grandfather’s.” Dad added hot sauce to his meal. “Glen got common sense from my side of the family.”

  “And no one ever thought to tell me?” I said to no one in particular.

  “Not everything is about you.” Dad’s smile took the sting out of his reproach.

  Ever since losing my virginity in high school, I feared my mother would never forgive me for having sex before marriage. Now I knew my parents were forced into a shotgun wedding. That was what I liked to call leverage.

  I shielded my face with a linen napkin. “What other secrets do you have about Mom?”

  Dad laughed. “What’s it worth to you?”

  Considering I was in love with a girl, much more than he would have guessed.

  Chapter Four

  “Tegan! Are you almost ready? Just because it’s your birthday, doesn’t mean you can be lazy.” Mom’s face paled when I came down the stairs. “You aren’t wearing that are you?”

  I glanced down at my jeans and No Fear T-shirt Gemma had given me for Christmas. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Totally unacceptable.” She jabbed her finger. “Go upstairs and change.”

  “I can wear what I want,” I whined. “I’m nineteen.”

  “Not if I’m paying for dinner.” She tapped her foot.

  Her emphasis of the word “paying” sent a cold shiver through me. Lately, I hadn’t been able to banish the thought that if Mom found out about Gemma, she’d find a way to cut me off, forcing me back home and far away from my redhead.

  I needed to stay one step ahead and play by her rules, for now. “You haven’t even told me where we’re going. How can I dress if I don’t know? And why can’t we wait for Dad to be home for my birthday dinner?”

  She didn’t blink.

  I stood my ground for fifteen seconds before I caved. “Fine,” I growled and trudged up the stairs, wishing I had economic independence.

  “Put on one of the new outfits we bought yesterday,” she shouted after me.

  I rummaged through a Contempo Casual bag at the foot of my bed and pulled out a floral skirt and V-neck cotton shirt. When I’d selected this outfit, I envisioned wearing it on a date with Gemma, not dinner with Sally Ferber.

  The doorbell rang. Not expecting anyone, I ignored it.

  To make a point that Mom was no longer completely in charge of me, I stayed upstairs for a few minutes more than necessary, rereading a letter I’d received from Gemma the previous day. Her words gave me the strength to get through the next week. Seven days and we’d be together again. Six days really since today was pretty much in the books.

  I sighed, tucked the letter back into the red envelope, and slipped it under my pillow.

  “There she is,” Mom announced in her Miss America voice as I descended the staircase.

  Was Dad here? Was that my surprise?

  Or Glen, perhaps?

  “My, don’t you look lovely. Doesn’t she, Cuddy?”

  Cuddy.

  Why was the hobbit in my home?

  Better yet, how did he find my home?

  I stopped halfway down the stairs and glared at my mother.

  She smiled back, the smile that used to instill fear in me when I was a child misbehaving in public and humiliating her. Not anymore. Mostly.

  “Hi,” Cuddy said, a goofy grin on his even goofier face.

  “Hello,” I said somewhat coolly, my fingers clutching the white banister.

  “You look…” His grin widened when his vision landed on my cleavage.

  Mom, sensing I was about to bolt, pulled out her wallet. “Now, here’s some money. Dinner is my treat tonight.”

  “You aren’t coming?” I asked her. I made it to the bottom of the stairs and stood in the open doorway.

  She laughed. “Don’t be absurd. You don’t need your mother as a chaperone on your date. This isn’t the dark ages.”

  “But—”

  She shushed me and practically shoved me out the front door. “Treat her right, Cuddy.”

  Outside, with the front door of my home slammed in my face and the deadbolt fastened, I stared at Cuddy. “You got a haircut.” His short hair made him look like a five-year-old on school picture day.

  He reddened. “My grandfather insisted.”

  “Family…” I let the sentence die, unsure of how Cuddy would react.

  How had my mother arranged this? She must have gone through my purse for his number. I wanted to bang on the door and insist she let me back in. But, if I went with Cuddy, would it throw her off the Gemma scent? I had three years left of school. Jesus, that was forever. Just get through tonight, Tegan.

  “Tell me about it,” he said.

  “How’s your arm?”

  He looked down at his plastered arm still in a sling. “Itches like hell.”

  I glanced at the driveway, not seeing a car.

  “Did you drive here?”

  He raised his injured arm a tad. “Can’t. My grandmother dropped me off.” He said it like it was perfectly normal and expected for a college kid to get a lift from a grandparent. Would she be picking him up later?

  I pulled my car keys out of my bag. “Probably a good thing. Let me put it this way: I’m too young to die.” Was Mom so desperate for me to date a dude she set me up with the person who ran me down? Conversely, was I so afraid to tell my mom I was with Gemma that I was willing to go?

  He laughed. “That’s what my grandmother said when I asked if I could drive.” He looked around at the hogback on the left and the foothills on the right. “What’d you do for fun out here?”

  “My friends and I went to town as much as possible, which is only a five-minute drive. When we couldn’t, we drank either in the gully or hidden in the rocks.” I pointed to the right, where there was a massive cropping of red rocks, some taller than my house.

  “I didn’t peg you as a rebel.” His face displayed a disappointed expression. Was the hobbit being judgmental? No wonder Mom loved him.

  I opened the passenger door for Cuddy.

  “Shouldn’t I be doing that for you?”

  “I don’t have a broken arm.”

  “Who would have thought we’d be going on a date after I ran you over. Is this fate or what?”

  “Or what.” I shut his door.

  ***

  Cuddy, or more likely Mom, had decided on Outback. I was particularly fond of the blooming onion, which my mother knew, much to the disgust of her healthy-habit ways, and maybe this was her consolation for blindsiding me.

  The waiter, after taking our drink orders, left us in a booth.

  “I was completely surprised when your mom called.” Cuddy fiddled with his fork.

  “Me, too.”

  He perked up in his seat. “She doesn’t take no for an answer.”

  Hackles raised, I asked, “You said no?”

  His good shoulder lowered. “What? No. I just meant, I wasn’t sure…”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Wasn’t sure about what?”

  Cuddy glanced over his left shoulder and leaned forward. “I kinda thought you and the redhead… were… you know, a thing.”

  “That’s why she called you.” I burst into a fit of laughter.

  Cuddy furrowed his brow, causing me to convulse even more with laughter.

  “Here’s your Dr. Pepper.” The waiter set my drink down. “And your iced tea. Would you l
ike to order an appetizer?”

  I tried to rein in my laughing, not managing to stop entirely, and was able to make it known I wanted a blooming onion by frantically pointing at the menu and repeating, “Bloo… bloo…”

  “Right.” The waiter gave Cuddy an I’m glad I’m not you smile and retreated.

  “You okay?” Cuddy’s face was the kind that didn’t register any angry feelings ever. “Do you want to go?”

  I waved a hand and tried to steady my breathing. “No, no. I’m fine, I promise.”

  His smile was supportive and suggested it’d be best if men in white coats rushed in and helped me. “Did I say something wrong?”

  I sipped my Dr. Pepper. “Only the truth, which is why Mom is butting in. First Erik. Now you.”

  Again, Cuddy peeked over his left shoulder, and then his right, although our booth butted against the wall. “Am I on Candid Camera or something?”

  Smiling, I smothered his hand with mine. “No. And I should apologize to you for my mother getting you into this mess. You’re right. I’m with the redhead, Gemma, and that’s why my mom called you.”

  “For a threesome?”

  I smacked his hand. “No! Do you really think I’d have my mom arrange a threesome?”

  He ran his hand over his soft hair. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  “I’m not certain, but I think my mom suspects my feelings for Gemma go beyond friendship and she’s going into panic mode. That’s why she bullied you into taking me out for dinner on my birthday.”

  He shot upright in his seat, and his good arm reached to support the injured one. “Your birthday?”

  “Here’s your blooming onion.”

  I thanked the waiter, ignoring the look of surprise on Cuddy’s face. What did the server think?

  “You didn’t know it was my birthday?” I asked when we were alone.

  He shook his head.

  “God, you must think I’m pathetic. My mom setting me up on a blind date on my birthday so I’d stop moping around the house because my girlfriend is in Yellowstone having the time of her life.”

  “Have you been to Yellowstone?”

  “No. Have you?”

  “Yes. Many times. Old Faithful is nature’s biggest joke. I mean, seriously, people travel from all over the world to see it spout every hour or so, and then when it does, water shoots up. That’s all really. What’s so impressive about that? I don’t know Gemma, but I bet she’d rather be here with you on this special day.”

 

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