by Sweet, Izzy
And I want to tell her. I know she’s right. I hate keeping secrets from her. I hate carrying around all this stuff inside me. Just like my shopping bags, it feels so heavy. Maybe if I could share the load, it would all be more bearable. If I could have her opinion, her outside view… I bet she could tell if Andrew is lying.
“You’re in luck,” the waiter says and sets down a glass of water in front of me. “We always keep a bottle on hand in case of emergencies and…” I look up and he winks at me. “For pretty ladies.”
I’ve never had to try so hard before to keep my eyes from rolling. Seriously. The game with this one is weak.
Even my mom doesn’t seem impressed. “Thank you, sweetie,” she says as he sets down her diet coke. Whenever she calls someone sweetie, it’s her way of politely dismissing them.
The waiter smiles, seemingly oblivious to my mom’s dismissal and pulls out his pad. “Are you ready to order?”
He looks to me, expectantly. His eyes are blue, I finally notice, though not nearly as pretty as Andrew’s.
“I think we’ll both have the chicken caesar salad. Is that alright with you, Hailey?”
I nod at her and take a sip from my glass, grateful she took the initiative. Food was the furthest thing from my mind. I’d hate to further embarrass myself because I didn’t even think to look at the menu, but now that I’m reminded that food exists, I feel like I’m starving. My stomach growls loudly.
The waiter chuckles. “I’ll put a rush on it, just for you.”
You do that. This time, when he walks away and my mom starts laughing, I can’t help but join with her. Because this time she’s not laughing at me, we’re laughing at him, and it feels good just to share something with her again.
The waiter returns with our salads and my mom dismisses him with another, “Thank you, sweetie,” while I rudely dig in.
We eat in comfortable silence. For so long, it used to be just like this, it still feels natural. Just me and my mom. We had each other, it was perfect. Then she had to go and ruin it with Jack.
As if she could read my mind, my mom breaks the silence with, “You know, I forgot just how I much I missed this.”
“Me too,” I chew out between bites.
We both finish our salads around the same time. I push my plate away and lean back, full and relaxed. My mom pulls out her purse and digs around, probably searching for her phone.
I rarely check my phone, nowadays. What’s the point?
“Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late,” my mom frowns at her phone. “Think you’ll be hungry again in a couple of hours?”
“Uh, maybe?” I say hesitantly. I’m feeling pretty stuffed at the moment.
My mom starts swiping her finger across her phone and sighs. “Jack has a family dinner planned for tonight.”
“Family dinner?” I ask, sitting up straight in my chair.
My mom nods her head, “Yes, just the four of us.”
“The four of us?”
My mom looks up from her phone and frowns at me. “Yes, there are four of us in this family.”
The waiter reappears and cleans up our plates.
I lean around him and ask, “Is Andrew coming?”
“Let me check.” My mom glances back down at her phone and her fingers flick through her messages. “Ah, yes. He says he’s looking forward to it.”
I just bet he is. I groan and slump back.
“Is something wrong, Hailey?” my mom asks.
“I just….” I start. I’m not ready to see Andrew again. I don’t know how I’ll survive an entire family dinner with him. “Really stuffed,” I finish. “I think I’ll have to skip dinner tonight.”
“Hailey…” my mom says in that voice and I grimace.
“Mom…”
“It would mean a lot to me if you were there. I can’t remember the last time the four of us had dinner together as a family. Andrew has declined every invitation I’ve extended to him for months now.”
Yeah, the last time I had dinner with Andrew and Jack, they quarreled, verbally, and Andrew vowed to never have dinner with him again. The only reason Andrew probably accepted my mom’s invitation is because of me. And if I have to sit next to him for over an hour and pretend in front of our parents that nothing has happened between us, I think I’ll die.
My mom, though, has that stubborn set to her jaw. Right now, she’s guilting me, but if I still resist, I know she’ll threaten me into it. Damn it.
“Okay,” I give up. “I’ll try to eat.” I can still try to fake sick when we get back to the house. Maybe I can spend a few minutes with them and then excuse myself to the room I’m staying in.
“Thank you,” my mom smiles at me.
The waiter walks off with our dirty plates and returns a minute later with our check. We decline dessert and make a hasty exit.
It takes some work making all of our bags fit in the small trunk of my mom’s little purple convertible. I still haven’t found the right time or the right way to ask her why she decided to spend so much money on me.
“Oh, Hailey,” my mom giggles. She’s sitting behind the steering wheel, going over the receipt from the restaurant as I get myself settled and buckled in.
“Yes?”
“I think this is for you.” She flaps the receipt at me.
I sigh as I pluck it from her hand.
She can’t stop giggling as she turns her key and starts her car up. My eyes scan the little note: If you find yourself thirsty tonight, call me.
Lame.
“No, mom,” I say and shake my head. “This is definitely for you, and you are so out of his league.”
Chapter Thirty
I should be happy, I should be thrilled with all my new purchases. I have an entire new wardrobe, and it’s freakin’ awesome. I have so many new shoes, so many new outfits. I don’t think I’ve ever had this many clothes before in my life. But I can’t stop worrying about facing Andrew.
What am I going to wear? I don’t even know. There are simply too many outfits to choose from now. Should I dress modestly to keep him from getting the wrong impression? Or should I show off all of my assets and make him sweat, make him realize just what he’s missing?
Decisions, decisions.
I finally decide on a pretty, floral sundress, and a glittery pair of sandals. The next hour is spent doing my hair and makeup. I’m trying really hard to look like I’m not trying, but I have so many new colors to experiment with, I have to start over a few times. After washing my face for the fifth straight time, I decide to stick with just some mascara and lip gloss.
There, I think as I look in the mirror. Now what? I’m dressed, my hair is brushed down my back, and I’ve done my face to the best of my ability. I need to find something else to keep me busy so I don’t start to think. Because if I start to think, I’ll think of Andrew. And if I think of Andrew, and all the lies he told me, I’ll start crying. And if I start crying, my mascara will run, and I’ll have to wash my face a sixth time. I don’t think my skin can take the abuse.
I wander over to the guest bed and pick up my phone. Checking my phone has been dangerous lately. Sometimes there’s a message from Andrew waiting for me. His first message was yesterday.
AJ: Hi, how are you doing?
I didn’t dignify that with a response.
This morning he had the audacity to send me:
AJ: Good morning, gorgeous
I screamed and threw my phone. My mom rushed into the room, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. Of course, I couldn’t explain it to her, and that’s when she decided I needed some retail therapy.
After the family dinner tonight, I’m going to need a different kind of therapy. If I can even survive it.
I’m not ready to see Andrew again. I’m just not. I still don’t know how to feel or what to think. He seemed so determined the last time I saw him, in my apartment, so convinced that he could somehow win me back. A part of me is a bit afraid he’s agreed to come to dinner b
ecause he may have found a way.
I’m healing, I think. Or at the very least, I’m surviving by avoiding the problem. It might not be the most healthy way to deal, but it’s working.
I kill time by swiping through my phone. I try to focus on my newsfeed, but my attention keeps wandering. My ears are straining, waiting for the doorbell.
When the doorbell finally rings, it feels as if my heart just tried to jump out of my chest. My pulse races, my palms feel sweaty, and my lungs suck in oxygen like it’s going out of style.
He’s here. This is it.
I jump up from the bed and race to the mirror. I check my hair, check my makeup and straighten the skirt of my dress. I’m terrified to face him again. Yet, I must admit a part of me is excited. I haven’t even seen him yet, but just knowing Andrew is here, that he’s close, I feel like some part of my body is reaching out and seeking him. There’s a warmth filling my veins. A thrilling chill in the pit of my stomach.
I walk up to the door to my guest room, place my hand on the handle and at the last minute think better of it. I don’t want to look too eager. In fact, if I can’t handle being near Andrew, I fully plan on faking sick and excusing myself as soon as possible. I decide, instead, to wait some more. I’ll wait until my mom calls for me.
The next ten minutes feel like they drag on forever.
“Hailey, we’re waiting on you,” my mom says, sounding just a little peeved on the other side of the door.
“Sorry, mom. I’ll be there in a minute!” I answer back.
I hear her sigh and then I start to count to myself, inside my head. Once I hit sixty, I take a deep breath, pull open my door and make my way to the dining room.
With each step I take, my stomach clenches and I truly feel like I’m about to be sick. No doubt my face is a shade of green that perfectly matches the vines and leaves of my dress.
I can’t do this. I can’t. But if I don’t, my mom is seriously going to be pissed. It’s so tempting to just let her be pissed off at me, but then she’s all that I have left. Losing her just isn’t worth the risk.
One foot in front of the other. Just one foot in front of the other. Somehow, I make it to the dining room. The dining room is massive. I know Jack and my mom rarely eat in here, they usually save it for holidays or entertaining important guests.
In the center of the dining room is an extra-long dark table that’s capable of seating twenty guests. It seems so silly to have our little dinner in here. Especially when I see just the three of them seated in the middle of the table. On one side is my mom and Jack with their backs to me. On the other side is Andrew, and beside him a place has been set. I guess that’s where they expect me to sit. Fuck.
I pause in the doorway, so tempted to turn tail and run. But then Andrew looks up and his dark eyes lock on me.
Andrew rises from the table first, “Hailey.”
My mom turns in her seat. Jack rises with a scowl.
“Sorry,” I choke out, the word wanting to stick to my throat.
“It’s okay, honey,” my mom reassures me, but her eyes narrow as if she suspects something is up.
I look away, afraid she’ll read me like a book. And I especially can’t look at Andrew while he’s standing there, looking disgustingly handsome in his dark suit.
I walk forward, focusing on my steps. I reach for my chair and suddenly it moves. I look up in surprise. Andrew smiles, he’s holding out my chair for me.
I narrow my eyes at him. If anything, Andrew’s smile seems to grow even wider. I have the sinking feeling he’s going to enjoy making me feel uncomfortable tonight. If I could even feel any more uncomfortable than I do right now.
Jack clears his throat. He’s still waiting for me to sit down. I have no choice but to grit my teeth and let Andrew seat me.
As Andrew pushes my chair in, I almost gasp as I feel his knuckles brush against the back of my shoulders. My dress doesn’t cover me there, it’s sleeveless. My skin tingles, alive now and very aware.
I look over at Andrew as he takes his seat beside me, grinning cockily. Bastard did it on purpose.
“It’s so good of you to join us tonight, Andrew,” My mom says sweetly. “We’ve missed you.”
Ugh, speak for yourself mom, I think. Jack snorts softly and I sense Andrew stiffen beside me.
“I’m usually busy, but I managed to clear my schedule tonight. Thank you for inviting me, Lynn.”
“Oh, you’re welcome over anytime, honey. This is your home,” my mom smiles at Andrew and I can’t help but raise my brows a bit. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard my mom call Andrew honey, she usually reserves that pet name exclusively for me.
Andrew relaxes, but Jack seems tense. Jack has yet to say a word and I’m seriously feeling like I stepped into a twilight zone.
“Thank you,” Andrew repeats to my mom.
The staff appear and serve us a creamy soup. I dip my spoon into my soup, but all I do is swirl it around. I’m so not hungry. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d fake sick now, but it’s too soon.
“So,” my mom says, after tasting her soup. “Now that the firm is officially sold, what do you plan to do with all your free time?”
Andrew shrugs his shoulders and peeks over at me, “Oh, I have an idea for a new venture or two. I plan on reinvesting my shares into something profitable.”
I turn to Andrew in surprise. “You sold the firm?” I ask. This is news to me.
“I could have sworn I mentioned it to you, Hailey when we were out today.”
“No, mom, I think you forgot.” I so would remember if she had.
“We sold the firm,” Jack speaks up and downs the rest of the red wine in his glass.
“It just seems so sudden,” I say and reach for my own glass. Unfortunately mine is filled with water not wine.
“It’s something that’s been in the works for some time now,” Andrew explains. “But we’ve kept it on the down low. It was never guaranteed it would all pan out.”
“Yes, it was never guaranteed,” my mom speaks up. “But it’s a blessing. Now there will be more time for family.”
Oh, joy.
***
The staff clear away our soups. Our glasses are refilled. I fidget in my chair while Andrew and my mother make small talk. I can’t even pay attention. I doubt I’ll be able to make it through the next course. I think I’m going to take one bite and make a run for the bathroom. The way this family dinner of ours is going, I’ll be doing us all a favor.
Jack, the smart man that he is, brought his phone with him. He pulls it out, ignoring the rest of us. I wish I had the forethought to bring mine. I left it in the guest room, on the bed.
The next course is served, fancy chicken with rice. I push the rice around on my plate, not quite able to bring myself to take a bite.
I’m just about to ask to be excused from the table when Jack slams his fist against the table, “Who the fuck is Tiffany?”
Our dishes rattle. Jack is directly in front of me so my glass of water tips over.
I’m too stunned to move. My eyes are so wide they feel like they’re going to pop out of my head.
“She’s nobody,” Andrew says as if he believes it.
“Bullshit,” Jack snarls.
“Jack…” my mom starts, but Jack cuts her off.
Jack points his finger accusingly at Andrew, “She’s claiming to be pregnant with your kid.”
My mom gasps.
Andrew’s eyes darken, “It’s not true.”
Jack’s finger shakes then he pulls it back though he doesn’t appear to be convinced. “Then why is she saying it is?”
Andrew shrugs, “How should I know?”
Jack eyes Andrew suspiciously. If looks could kill.
“I’m sure this is all just one big misunderstanding,” my mom says, trying to diffuse the situation.
Jack’s phone buzzes loudly. He glances down and curses, “What the fuck?”
I swear, my heart just stopp
ed. I can’t breathe. I know, I just know what is on that phone. The universe hates me that much.
Jack looks back up, his eyes sparking with anger, “Are you sleeping with your stepsister?”
I want to die. Seriously. My mom gasps again and the look of horror on her face is my undoing. I can’t even look at her now, I look away. I can’t handle that look on her face. I’ve seen it too many times in my nightmares.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I have never felt more ashamed.
Andrew stands up. I sense him rather than see him. Then I hear his strong voice, “That is none of your business.”
“None of my business?! None of my business?!” Jack roars. “This is my family and I have the right to know!”
“That is enough! I have had enough!” my mom snaps and my eyes fly open in surprise. I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard her raise her voice in anger. Not since I was a young child.
Andrew, Jack and my mother are all standing, facing off with each other.
“Jack, we have talked about this,” my mom says sounding completely exasperated.
Jack sputters and his face turns dark red.
“I’m sorry, Lynn, but I’ve completely lost my appetite,” Andrew says to my mom while glaring angrily at his dad. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Andrew throws down his napkin on the table and heads for the exit.
“No, wait, please…” my mom says, trying to stop him. It’s too late, though. Andrew leaves without a look back.
I bite my lip. Everything inside me is screaming at me to run after him, but I’m afraid it will just make the situation worse.
“Jack, how could you,” my mom says, sounding both pissed off and disappointed.
Jack just sputters again. He looks utterly contrite. I don’t get it.
“You go after your son or so help me I am done.”
“Shit,” Jack curses.
My mom points her finger at Jack, “You make this right.”
“Fuck,” Jack curses and throws his own napkin down on the table.
