Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell

by Codi Gary

  “Hey, Daddy.”

  “Missed you, pumpkin.”

  They pulled apart, and she took the suitcase from him, slipping her arm through her mom’s. “How was the flight?”

  “Bumpy. Your mother gripped my arm so tight, I don’t think I’ll ever get the feeling back.”

  Her mother glared at him. “Oh, shut up. You know I hate turbulence.”

  “No one likes turbulence, honey,” he said.

  “Well, I thought we’d grab your bags, maybe some lunch, and get on the road. There’s a storm rolling in from the south, and I want to get home before it gets windy.”

  “I can drive,” her dad said.

  Gracie almost sighed aloud. “Dad, I didn’t say I couldn’t drive. I just don’t want to do it in a storm.”

  “I won’t be able to relax with you behind the wheel, anyway.”

  She should have known it was going to happen. She wouldn’t exactly call her dad sexist, but in all her life, she couldn’t remember one trip where he’d let her or her mother drive while he sat shotgun.

  “Sure, that’s fine. It will give me and Mom a chance to catch up.”

  “You two talk all the time. What more could you possibly have to say to each other?”

  They stepped off the escalator and headed down toward the baggage claim.

  “Well, for one thing, she could tell us about this boyfriend she’s been so secretive about.”

  And her it was. “I haven’t been secretive. I just didn’t want to jinx it, but it turns out, I was right. That guy wasn’t right for me.”

  Her mom actually patted her hand. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I had a feeling this was going to happen.”

  Gracie resisted the irritation bubbling up her throat, threatening to say something sarcastic.

  “That’s why we’re going to have dinner this weekend with the son of your father’s old partner. He’s an accountant at a successful firm, handsome—”

  “I appreciate the set-up, but I’m still seeing someone, just not the same one I was dating in November.”

  Her mother grew quiet, and Gracie could feel the disappointment radiating from her. “I see. Well, are you going to at least tell me this one’s name?”

  The baggage claim came to life, and Gracie bit the bullet. “Eric Henderson.”

  Her dad turned to her, his brow furrowed. “Connie and Buck’s son?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her mother seemed shell-shocked, but her dad just grunted. “I like Eric. Always had a good head on his shoulders.”

  At least I made one parent happy.

  “Mom?”

  “What?”

  “You haven’t said anything.”

  “We’ll talk about this in the car.”

  Well, that’s definitely a bad sign.

  * * *

  Gracie barely resisted slamming out of the house three hours later. Her mother had hardly said a word the whole way home, and when Gracie had finally lost patience, her mother had gone off.

  “I thought that you would be grown-up when you hit thirty and finally start looking for a mature relationship!”

  Gracie climbed into her car and screamed, banging her fists on the steering wheel. She’d tried to be calm and reasonable, but of course, she couldn’t hold on to her temper for long.

  “What the hell is wrong with Eric? He runs a successful business, is stable, and owns his own home.”

  And then the real fun had started. Bombarded with question after question, she’d just sat there, stewing as they came. “Is this what you really want for your life? To be tied to not just one but two small businesses? Riding on the back of his motorcycle like Connie does with Buck?”

  They became more and more insulting as the drive wore on. Her dad tried to intervene a few times, but her mother cut him off.

  Finally, Gracie had exploded. “I get it! I am a big fucking disappointment to you! You wanted more from me, and I just keep screwing up. But you know what? I’m happy! I am a happy freaking person, so if you can’t be happy for me, then maybe you should stay elsewhere!”

  They’d arrived at the house, and her parents had disappeared into the bedroom, where she’d heard them arguing. It reminded her of when she was a kid and they would fight; only now she was an adult with a set of keys and cakes to make.

  She’d told them she had to run an errand and was going to grab dinner on her way back. Her dad had come out and given her a hug.

  “I’ll talk to her, kiddo.”

  Gracie started her SUV and drove out onto the road, heading toward The Local Bean. What she really needed was something to help relax her. And since sex was out of the question, she would have to settle for baking.

  * * *

  Eric drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he headed down Main Street. It was just after five in the evening, and the empty street looked slightly eerie in the glow of the setting sun.

  As he passed The Local Bean, he saw that Gracie’s car was still in the parking lot. He hadn’t heard from her since she’d left for Boise to pick up her parents this morning. Why would she be at work, especially after hours?

  He pulled into the dimly lit lot and drove around the back alley. He reached for his cell phone and called Grant.

  “What’s up, bro?” The sound of clanking bottles sounded in the back ground.

  “Hey, dude, I’m gonna be a little late. Can you guys cover it?” Eric glanced around. and not a soul was moving outside.

  “How long you gonna be?” Grant sounded more curious than anything, probably because Eric was never late.

  “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.” He hung up without saying anything else and could almost hear his brother muttering, “Dick.” He got out of his car and went to the back of the coffee shop and banged on the door. No one answered.

  “Gracie? Gracie Lou?” Eric yelled.

  Still nothing.

  He reached for the metal knob and gave it a twist, surprised to find it unlocked. He opened it and stepped inside, heading down the hallway that soon spilled into the kitchen area.

  Gracie was shaking her butt and dancing around the room, singing an off-key version of a Miranda Lambert song. He grinned as he watched her slide two cakes into the oven, closing it with a bump of her hip.

  Her iPod must have switched over to Limp Bizkit’s “Faith,” because she started singing it at the top of her lungs.

  Eric’s smile dimmed a bit and his mouth dried up as she rolled her hips slowly in a circle, slapping her hands on her thighs.

  When she caught sight of him, she jumped straight up in the air. She had one hand on her chest, while the other pulled her earbuds out.

  “Are you out of your freaking mind?”

  “Sorry I scared you. I saw your car out front and was surprised you were here. Wanted to check on you.”

  “How did you get in?” she asked.

  He pointed behind him. “You forgot to lock the back door. Dangerous thing to do, apparently. People could come inside, although I don’t know why they would with all your caterwauling. I thought there might be a dying cat in here and came to investigate.”

  “I do not sound like a dying cat! And I do not appreciate you standing around watching me like a creeper.”

  Eric laughed. “I knocked a bunch of times, but you didn’t answer. Wasn’t trying to creep around. I really was concerned.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Where are your folks?” he asked.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” She turned on the mixer and stuck it into a bowl. She was probably hoping he’d take the hint.

  Didn’t she know him at all?

  He reached out and grabbed the mixer from her, switching it off.

  “Watch it! That mixer is expensive.”

  “You don’t say? I guess you better start talking, or the mixer gets it.”

  She snorted and tried to take the mixer back from him, but he held it above his head, unconcerned with the droplets of batter dr
ipping over his shoulders.

  “Okay, Tony Soprano, stop holding my mixer hostage. I’ve got one more cake to finish, and then I’m going to grab dinner and head back to spend the evening with my parents. That’s all. Nothing else going on.”

  Eric wasn’t buying it though. “Tanya could have made the cakes for you. So, why did you need to get away from your parents after only a few hours?”

  “You’re annoying.”

  “And persistent.”

  “It doesn’t matter, it’s stupid,” she said.

  He set the mixer on the counter, then grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to him. “It matters a lot to me.”

  She tried to extract her hand and scoffed sarcastically. “Why? Because we’re supposed to care?”

  Eric growled in frustration. “You are such a pain in the ass! With or without our arrangement, I’d still care. We might not always see eye to eye, but I thought we might just be turning into friends.”

  He watched her expression crumble, and she groaned as she scrubbed her free hand over her face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I thought this could work. My mother is completely impossible.”

  It took a second for Eric to realize what she was saying. “Your mom has a problem with me?”

  “No, she has an issue with small business owners.”

  Eric’s brow furrowed. “You’re a small business owner.”

  “Exactly, and she hates it. She wanted me to go to law school and marry some senior partner, or some shit like that. Instead, I went to college and majored in business. I took all my savings and put it into this place, and she can’t stand that she’s been wrong about me making a mistake. She likes you fine, but because you’re in exactly the same boat as me, she thinks we’re a disaster waiting to happen.”

  She grabbed her mixer from the table. “I don’t care, anyway. I just need to deal with the fact that my mother will never be happy, no matter how many times I prove I’m completely capable of handling my own life.”

  Eric wrapped his arms around her waist without thinking. He almost pulled away when she stiffened, but then he found her leaning back into him as she mixed her batter.

  “I have a crazy idea. What if you finish up here and I grab dinner for all of us? Go see if I can win your mom over.’

  She turned off the mixer and looked at him over her shoulders. Her downtrodden expression was one he’d seen too much of lately, and he didn’t like it. Gracie was always being a smiling smart-ass, and he wanted to get her back to that woman. The confident, sexy girl who drove him crazy and challenged him at every turn.

  “Seriously, you don’t have to do that. This was all a stupid idea to begin with.”

  “Well, I’m telling you that I still need your help, and I’m a guy who doesn’t like to be in anyone’s debt. You just leave it to me.”

  “She’s not going to crack—”

  “Oh ye of little faith, I will make you a deal. If I win your parents over, you have to go on an adventure with me.”

  Her green eyes narrowed, and he realized she was still in his arms, letting him hold her back against him.

  “What kind of adventure?”

  “You’ll see when I win.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “It’s hard to let people see who you really are.” - Miss Know-It-All’s Gossip Column.

  Eric stood on Gracie’s porch with a bottle of wine, a bouquet of flowers, and a bag from Jensen’s Diner. Gracie had texted him what her parents liked after he’d left, and he was prepared to put his plan into action.

  He rang the doorbell and waited nervously for them to answer. It wasn’t that he was scared of Gracie’s parents; he’d known them most of his life. It was more that he might have exaggerated his parental appeal to Gracie. He’d never actually tried to woo someone’s folks…but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He’d watched enough movies.

  Fine, so he’d had to call Mike Stevens for advice, and he’d suggested bringing flowers for Gracie’s mom. It had been humiliating, especially since Mike hadn’t been afraid to tease him a bit about it. Eric had allowed the small revenge, especially after giving Mike such a hard time, but his main motivation had been making Gracie happy. She had been so keyed up about it, and he’d wanted to make her feel better.

  The door swung open, and now, faced with her father’s blank expression and her mother’s frown, he wondered if he was in over his head.

  “Mr. and Mrs. McAllister, how are you?” He held out the flowers and wine to Gracie’s mother. “These are for you. Gracie had to finish a few last-minute orders at The Local Bean, so I offered to bring dinner over.”

  Mrs. McAllister took the wine and flowers. “Thank you, Eric, that was very thoughtful.”

  “Well, come on in, kid, no sense in standing out there in the cold,” Mr. McAllister said.

  Eric stepped inside after stomping the snow off his boots. “I got the Philly cheesesteak for you and the barbeque ranch chicken sandwich for Mrs. McAllister.”

  Gracie’s dad’s face lit up. “Great, I’m starving. And please, I’m Ken and she’s Franny. No need to be so formal.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Eric set the food on the counter and shrugged out of his jacket, hanging it over one of the dining room chairs. “So, Gracie says you’re staying with her for a couple of weeks?”

  “We’ll be visiting friends too. We don’t want to be in anyone’s way,” Franny said.

  Her tone was filled with a hostility Eric didn’t understand, and he tried to reassure her. “You won’t be. I know that Gracie is really excited to have you here. She was actually trying to buy a bigger place, but things fell through.”

  Both of her parents stilled.

  “Gracie was going to buy a house? Where?” Ken asked.

  Eric noticed the pinch in Franny’s mouth and figured they probably hadn’t known that Gracie was trying to buy. “On Cherry Tree, I think. It was a for sale by owner, but they went with someone else.”

  Several moments of heavy silence ticked by, and Eric almost unbuttoned his flannel so he could breathe through the tension.

  Finally, Gracie’s dad, who seemed the easier-going of the two, broke the quiet. “Well, that’s some interesting news. Should we wait for Gracie or go ahead and eat?”

  “We might as well start now. I’m sure Eric already knows our daughter is avoiding us. I’ll just go wash my hands.”

  Franny’s awkward announcement and departure left Eric alone with Ken.

  Eric decided to rip off the Band-Aid by being candid. “I’m guessing your wife isn’t pleased Gracie and I are seeing each other?”

  Ken sighed and rubbed a hand over his balding head. “It’s not really you. It’s that she wanted Gracie with someone who has a stable income, and Fran thinks small businesses are a gamble.”

  Eric could understand her reasoning to a point, but America was built on small businesses that grew. There had to be more to it than that.

  “Well, to be honest, sir, it’s not as though Gracie and I are getting married. We’re just dating. And my family’s bar has been around for thirty years, and even with Hank’s Bar in the heart of town, business hasn’t slowed down yet.”

  Ken looked up at him and held Eric’s gaze. “You don’t have to worry about me, son. As long as my baby girl is treated well and is happy as a lark, I don’t care if you sell porta potties.”

  Eric burst out laughing as he placed his food container on the table. “Appreciate that.”

  “You make her cry, though…”

  “You’ll chop off my junk?”

  “That’s not even the worst thing I’ll do to you.”

  That gave Eric pause, and he decided that Ken was a lot like Gracie…little but fierce.

  The two of them sat down and had just started eating when Gracie’s mom came out of the bathroom, holding a bottle of baby shampoo and some bath toys in her hand. She looked right at Eric with a stern, narrow-eyed glare.

  “You wouldn’t happen to know why my daughter has b
aby items under her bathroom sink, would you?”

  Well, son of a bitch, this is shaping up to get a whole lot worse than just awkward.

  “Gracie was taking care of a little girl for a couple of weeks who ended up going to live with her great-grandmother. Gracie has been having a hard time not seeing her.”

  “Whose child?” Franny asked.

  Gracie’s mom should have been an FBI interrogator. She was hard to say no to. “Just a little girl whose mother had died and her caretaker had been neglecting her. Gracie found her all alone when she was delivering meals for the church on Thanksgiving.”

  “Our Gracie was doing that?” Ken actually sounded surprised.

  Eric looked between the two of them. Did they really not know this about their daughter? “Yeah, she does it every year you guys aren’t around. Then she heads over to Gemma and Travis’s, but with Gemma on bed rest—”

  “She never told me Gemma was on bed rest!” Franny cried.

  He had a feeling he might not be helping the situation, but it was too late to stop talking now. If he could just make them understand…

  “Yes, but she’s okay. Just a little high blood pressure, from what I got. She should be fine.”

  Ken waved his hand as if to stop any more of his wife’s questions. “Back to Gracie and the child.”

  “Sure. Anyway, Gracie took her in so she wouldn’t have to go to a foster home while they found Pip’s next of kin.”

  “Pip?” her parents said together.

  “It’s what Gracie called her. The girl didn’t really talk.”

  Both of Gracie’s parents were silent for several seconds until Franny finally put the items back. When she joined them at the table, she turned to her husband. “Well, at least we know she wants to have children. If she can take in an orphan, she can certainly give us grandchildren.”

  For some reason, Franny’s casual dismissal of what Pip had been to Gracie rubbed him raw. “All due respect, ma’am, but the bond those two shared was unique. I’m not saying Gracie won’t be an amazing mother, but I don’t think Gracie wanting a child is why those two connected the way they did. And if it’s all the same, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention Pip to her unless she brings it up first. Like I said, she’s been having a tough time not being able to see her, and I don’t want her hurt.”