Reese looked up and got a bit bashful. It wasn’t every day that the very loud, energetic girl quieted down. She walked over to Oliver and wrapped her arms around his legs, giving him a hug. “Thank you, Mr. Mith, for being nice to me even though I told you your music was garbage before.”
“Reese!” I scolded.
She looked at me with widened innocent eyes. “What, Mama! I didn’t say it was trash again, even though it kind of still is,” she explained. I didn’t know what was worse—her words or the true confusion sitting in her eyes.
Oliver snickered and bent down to start tickling her. “Oh, you really think it’s garbage, huh?”
Reese giggled nonstop as the two of them went back and forth. The sight of them interacting, the sight of Oliver playing and letting loose with my daughter, was the oddest turn-on to me.
And that, kids, is how I met your father.
Pregnant on the spot.
Kelly took Reese off to the dining room to enjoy their doughnuts and to play with the action figures while I began pulling out some of the things I’d prepped the day before.
“Wait, you can’t cook without your gift,” Oliver said, reaching for something hanging on the back of one of the stools. He held it up, and I started instantly cracking up at the apron in his hands.
“A superhero chef apron?”
“Seems fitting enough.” He walked over to me and slightly nodded in my direction. “May I?”
“You may.”
He slid the apron over my head, and when I turned my back to him for him to tie it, butterflies began to somersault in my stomach as he pulled the strings around my waist. For a second his fingers stilled. For a moment, his fingers brushed against my hips. His fingers then rested against my lower back. I shut my eyes and held my breath, feeling his proximity that close to me. I swore I felt his breaths brush against my neck. I swore, his body slightly pressed against mine. I swore, I wanted more . . .
“There you go,” he said, knotting my apron in place and taking a step away from me.
I released the inhalation I’d been holding.
“Thanks.” I smoothed out the apron and turned to face him, hoping he wouldn’t see how flustered he’d made me.
His hands slid into his slacks, and he stood tall. He looked different today. Still handsome, still dreamy, but maybe . . . happier? There was something about him that seemed different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, though.
“Everyone should be getting here in about three hours. So how can I help you?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.
I arched an eyebrow. “Help me? In the kitchen?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you cook?”
“I can make a mean grilled cheese. I know you might use your fancy cheese and whatnot, and add avocado and fancy bacon, but my grilled cheese cannot be topped.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. You’ll be begging for seconds.”
I laughed. “You’ll have to make it for me one day, then.”
“I look forward to that. So, what can I do in the meantime to help?”
“Uh, nothing.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, Oliver. I’m not letting you near any of the food I’m preparing for today. It’s too important for me that everything be perfect.”
“It doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s just a few close friends.”
“And your parents,” I added.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re trying to impress my parents?”
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
“Uh, I don’t know . . . maybe because they’re your parents?”
He gave me a sly grin, and the amount he’d been smiling over the past few days made me want to wrap my arms around him and hold him close. Maybe that was what was different. He was smiling.
“You’re smiling more,” I commented, allowing my thoughts to leave my head.
“Am I?”
“You are.”
“I must be in good company.”
Oh, Oliver. Don’t make me blush.
“Why are you single?” he asked, throwing me completely off.
I turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Sorry. I’ve just been wondering. You’re a good woman. I mean, not that being single means you’re not a good woman. What I mean is, do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Date.”
Oh.
“Well, after Reese, I had a hard time even getting dressed in the morning. Then, as she grew older, I was always working two jobs at least. Time wasn’t really on my hands to be dating. Plus, growing up, I never really saw decent relationships. So it hasn’t been at the forefront of my mind.”
“So you have no interest in it?”
“In dating? If it were the right person, I guess.”
“What makes a person the right person?”
I was surprised at all the questions he was shooting my way. Each day it seemed as if Oliver’s words flowed easier when he was around me. As if he were getting out of his own way with his thoughts.
“Oh, I don’t know, someone who’s caring. And romantic. And kind. Loves kids, obviously. Someone who listens. Someone like . . .” You . . . “Someone like that. Someone who makes me feel like home.”
“I see.” His brows lowered. “Someone who makes you feel safe.”
“Exactly. Who makes me feel like I belong.”
“You do that to me,” he confessed. “Make me feel like I belong. No one has done that since my brother.”
His brother.
He’d finally brought up Alex around me.
Before I could ask him anything about it, a voice burst into the kitchen, breaking into our conversation.
“Oliver, we need to talk before the get-together tonight!” Tyler said, barging into the room. “My wife said I’m not allowed to bring up work stuff today, so I came over early to get work stuff out of the way!” He paused the minute he noticed our proximity to one another. “Uh, am I interrupting something?”
“Mama, I dropped my doughnut and ruined my shirt!” Reese exclaimed as she shot into the room just as quickly as Tyler had. “Can I have another doughnut?”
“How about we get you cleaned up first,” I said, taking her hand into mine. I looked back at Oliver, who was looking my way. A sad smile crossed his face as he turned to go talk to Tyler, leaving our conversation unfinished at the most important part.
19
OLIVER
“Do we have to do this today?” I asked as we sat in my office with the door shut.
“We most definitely have to do this today. I’ve been working with the PR team for the past few days trying to figure out how we dig ourselves out of this mess with Cam. And the best thing that we could come up with was you doing a live sit-down interview with one of the biggest stations. You know everyone will want to talk to you. You haven’t done an interview since . . .” His words faded. Since Alex passed away. Tyler shifted in his chair. “Anyway, we need to put you out there. We need to show your face to be put out there. Otherwise, it paints you in a terrible light.”
“I don’t do interviews,” I said. I hated interviews. I bombed most of the interviews I’d ever done. The only reason they seemed semidecent was because Alex had made them great. For all my flaws, he showcased his talents.
“You have to, man. These type of allegations against you can ruin your career, and even more so, your life. You can’t let someone like Cam ruin your life. You deserve to tell your side. The truth.”
“Even if I told the truth, would they believe me?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “But if you say nothing, they’ll definitely believe her. Just think about it for a minute, all right? I know it’s the holiday, and I won’t bring it up again, but this is a big fucking deal, Oliver. We have to handle it sooner rather than later. Especially if you’re thinking of dropping new music.”
I knew he was right, but that didn’t eas
e my anxiety about it. I had a history of having interviewers twist my words and take things the wrong way. I knew for a fact that if I spoke, some questions would build up in my anxious mind, and I wouldn’t have my other half there to pick up my slack.
Tyler headed out to pick up his family for the gathering, and a few hours later my house was packed with kids running around and diving in and out of the swimming pool, with Kelly supervising them as Emery finished up the final touches on setting up her serving table. Everything smelled delicious, and I wasn’t surprised.
The only thing left to do was grill some of the meat, which Emery wasn’t allowed to do. My dad had a rule that only he could grill, since he was a Texas man and knew a thing or two about making meat tender.
When my parents finally arrived from the airport, I met them in the driveway. Mom beamed with excitement when she saw me. “Ollie! Come here, oh I missed you!” she said, wrapping me into a tight hug. “How’s my babe doing?”
“I’m good, Mom. I thought you would’ve been here sooner. I sent the driver a while ago.”
“Well, you know how this LA traffic is. It’s bullshit,” Dad stated.
“Richard! Do you have to use that language around our son?”
“Oh, hush, woman. Oliver writes songs about oral sex; I think he is grown enough to hear me say ‘bullshit.’”
“He does not write songs about that!”
“What do you think ‘The Falls’ is about?” Dad asked her, and hell, only a few minutes had passed, and my parents were already talking about the sexual lyrics of Alex’s and my songs. My brother was lucky to be missing out on that moment.
“The Niagara Falls!” Mom exclaimed, making me chuckle at the idea. She was so sincere and honest with her reply.
“Woman, that’s a sexual innuendo,” Dad told her, shaking his head in disbelief. He’d grown a beard since I’d last seen him, and it looked good on him. He’d put on some weight, too, which also looked good.
“How is that a sexual innuendo?” she asked.
“You really want to know?” he questioned.
“Yes, I really want to know.”
“Okay, well, remember when we were in college and you came over for a study date, and I did that thing with my fingers to your—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, oversharing much?” I barked, knowing exactly what he was talking about and wanting to delete the image that had formed in my brain forever.
Mom’s mouth dropped open, and she slowly nodded. “Ohhh, the Niagara Falls!” She grinned bright and shimmied a little. “I love the Niagara Falls. We should take a trip there tonight, Richard.”
Oh dear God.
“If you both could stop talking, that would be wonderful,” I begged.
“Don’t act like you’re innocent, Oliver. You did write the song, after all.” He moved toward me and patted me on the back. “Happy Fourth, buddy. Please tell me there’s food inside, because I am starving.”
“We just need to get you on the grill, but there’s enough food for a football team in there,” I said.
“Or for your growing pop,” he said, rubbing his stomach. “I start Weight Watchers on Monday.”
“He said that last week, too,” Mom chimed in. “Then we ordered pizza.”
“Deep dish and delicious. But I’m really starting next week. Scout’s honor.”
“Mm-hmm, we’ll see when Taco Tuesday comes around and you want margaritas,” Mom said, smacking Dad’s stomach.
“You’re right, I should start next Wednesday,” Dad agreed. “Now come on, let’s get a move on so I can get the grill started.”
We headed inside, and my parents greeted everyone with big hugs, because that’s who they were—huggers. I swore, they’d hug every stranger they met if they could. We walked into the kitchen to find Emery finishing up the spread, and she looked up with a big smile on her face.
“Oh my goodness, it looks like a Thanksgiving feast in here,” Mom exclaimed.
“Smells like one, too,” Dad said as he grinned. “You must be Emery.”
Mom was already rounding the corner to pull Emery into a hug, and without any thought, Emery fell into her arms. “I’m Michelle, and this is Richard. We’re Oliver’s parents.”
“It’s so nice to meet you both. I’m so glad you made it.”
“Me too. Oliver has told us so much about you!” Mom said.
Emery looked my way with a sheepish grin. “Is that so?”
“Not so much,” I countered. “I may have mentioned you in passing conversation.”
“Are you kidding me?” Mom gasped, shaking her head. “Oliver went on and on about how you have made some of the best food he’s ever had. Why, just last night he was telling me all about you and how—”
“Mom,” I groaned, shooting her a stern look.
Her cheeks flushed over. “Oh no. There I go talking too much. It’s nice to meet you, Emery. How about I just leave it at that.”
“Mommmm!” Reese screeched, racing into the kitchen from the backyard, wrapped up in a towel and dripping water from the pool throughout the house. “Mom! Mom! I made two new friends Catie and Garrett and they are so much cooler than Mia and Randy and and and their mom said I could go to their house sometimes and make cookies and stuff and and and, who are you?” Reese breathed out as she looked toward my parents after rambling off a million words a second.
Mom smiled to the little girl and bent down to meet her at eye level. “I’m Michelle, and this is my husband, Richard. We are Oliver’s parents.”
Reese’s eyes bugged out. “You made him?”
“That’s right,” Mom said.
“Like, he was in your stomach?”
“Yup, yup.”
“How?” Reese questioned. “He’s so big.” We all laughed, and she looked confused as to what was funny. “That’s my mom over there, and I was in her stomach when I was a baby, too,” Reese said matter-of-factly.
A flash of despair washed over Emery’s face as those words left her daughter’s mouth, and no one else caught it, because they weren’t looking her way. It disappeared as quickly as it had shown up.
“Anyway, Mom! Can I go to Catie and Garrett’s house sometime?” Reese said, coming back around to her main point.
“We’ll see, honey. But how about you get back outside. You’re dripping water all over the house.”
“Okay, Mom, thanks.” She dashed out of the room as fast as she entered, yelling, “You guys! My mom said yesssssssssss!”
“And that right there is my daughter, Reese,” Emery said. “The energetic bunny.”
“She’s adorable and looks just like you,” Mom said.
Emery simply smiled and didn’t say anything else.
Dad rubbed his hands together. “So, I’d better get a quick bite before Oliver and I get the grill going.” Without any hesitation, he dived straight into the meatball sliders, groaning in pleasure as he bit into one. “Holy moly, this is good. You weren’t kidding, son. She is amazing.”
“Amazing, huh?” Emery asked with a smirk. “You think I’m amazing.”
“Yeah, they were. You said she’s freaking amazing. I have a memory like no other,” Dad argued.
“All right, how about the two of you head outside and get the grill fired up. You’re talking too much,” I ordered, shooing my parents away.
“I can tell when we aren’t wanted. Okay. We’re going. It was a pleasure meeting you, Emery. Hoping we get some time for some girl chat later on,” Mom said, winking her way.
Why the wink, Mom?
The two of them took each other’s hand and danced their way to the backyard, because that was what my parents always did with one another—they danced and joked and loved on each other.
The only time they’d ever stopped dancing was when Alex passed away. I was happy they’d found their rhythm again.
Emery was still smirking my way with her hands on her hips.
“What?” I asked.
“You think I’m freaking am
azing, huh?”
“Oh God. Don’t let it go to your head.” I dramatically rolled my eyes as I popped one of her apps into my mouth.
“Too late. The ego has been inflated. I am freaking amazing, and no one can tell me differently.”
I shrugged. “You’re average at best.”
Her jaw dropped open. “You’re lying.”
“I’m lying.”
She smiled.
I smiled.
My gosh, I was beginning to fall in love with that woman’s smile.
“I should go ahead and help my dad with the grill. But yeah.” I rocked back and forth in my shoes. “We’ll talk later.”
“Wait, before you go.” She leaned forward and rested against the countertop. “Can you tell me how freaking amazing I am?”
20
OLIVER
“Well, I’ll tell you what, that Emery girl can really cook,” Dad said as he and I sat in the studio while everyone else was outside waiting on the fireworks to begin, although they wouldn’t start for a few hours. We’d spent the past few hours celebrating the holiday outside, and I wanted to share some of my new music with him to try to get his input.
“She’s a very nice girl, too,” Dad added.
“She’s a hard girl not to like.”
“Based on her cooking skills, I see why you like her, too,” he joked. “So, is she?”
“Is she what?”
“Your girlfriend?”
“What? No. We are just . . .” What were we? Associates? Friends? Were Emery and I friends? “No. She’s not.”
“But you like her, and don’t go lying to me trying to deny it. I’m your father, and I know when you’re lying. All those years dating that Cam girl, and I ain’t ever seen you look at her the way you look at Emery. She must mean something big to you.”
I agreed. I knew it had only been a few short weeks since I’d met Emery, but she was the first woman I’d ever found myself opening up to be with. I knew if I was going to be hers, I had to crack open the layers of myself that I normally kept to myself.
“She showed up at a time that I felt extremely alone.”
“I believe that,” Dad said with a nod; then he clasped his hands together and cleared his throat. “Which brings me to my next point, a point I want to make really clear to you. It wasn’t your fault, son.”
The Mixtape Page 15
