“I’m so happy you said DMs.”
Sophia stared at me blankly for a few moments until she realized why I’d said that.
“Ew!”
“Sorry,” I laughed. “Keep going.”
“I just don’t want to give Aamee another reason to hate me. I know I don’t control Brody, but he’s my brother, and if he fucks her over, she’ll take that out on me.”
I nodded. “Oh, gotcha. That makes sense. You want me to talk to him? I’ll let it come up naturally, just see what his thoughts are and what he’s been up to lately, that kind of thing.”
“Yes, thank you! That’s a good idea, actually. Aamee’s level of hatred for me seems to have dropped a degree or two this semester, and I don’t want a sudden spike in temperature because of something I had nothing to do with.”
“Yeah, totally. I’ll talk to him after we go to dinner at my parents’.”
I knew Sophia was too sharp to let me slip that in there unnoticed, but I tried anyway.
“Like, you and Brody are going?” she asked, though from the look on her face, she already knew the answer.
“No-oo?” I dragged out the word like it was more than one syllable and also a question. “My mom called to apologize for never actually coming here to check on me like she promised, and when she heard I was doing better, she wanted to know why I hadn’t brought my fiancée over for dinner yet.”
Sophia just stared at me, lips pressed together. I couldn’t figure out if she was trying not to laugh or attempting to stop herself from piercing a hole through my jugular with her teeth.
“So we’re doing this tonight?”
“Only if you want to.” And since I’d already told my mom yes, I sincerely hoped she’d want to.
“Want is a strong word.”
“I’m thinking that’s as close to a yes as we’ll get, so thank you. I owe you one.”
“You owe me way more than that.”
I couldn’t disagree.
Chapter Twenty
S O P H I A
I wasn’t sure what I expected Drew’s childhood home to be like, but I knew as soon as I saw it, it wasn’t how I imagined it.
A brick Cape Cod that would probably have been described as quaint in a real estate ad sat nestled in between two others exactly like it on a quiet street. The shutters were black, although noticeably faded, and it had a black door to match—the kind with three tiny diamond windows running down at an angle that were popular in the nineteen eighties.
When one of Drew’s sisters opened it for us before we’d made it to the front porch, it was oddly reminiscent of Kelly Bundy’s entrance on Married with Children. Since I’d only met Drew’s sisters once before and they were all blond with freckles and curvy bodies, I had no idea which one had just greeted us.
Had I been a better “fiancée,” I would’ve stalked their social media, scouring every picture until I found a way to distinguish them from one another. But since I hadn’t thought of it until now—mostly because I also didn’t know we were coming until earlier today—I had to hope I either didn’t need to know their names or Drew would discreetly tell me them again.
“Hi,” Sister One called, holding open the storm door for us even though we were still about ten feet away.
The other two appeared at the door behind her, stacked like dominoes as they peered around each other to watch us walk up the concrete path that was flanked by flower beds that I was sure in the spring would have actual flowers in them.
Without warning, two gigantic dogs came racing out the door, not even bothering to use the four steps that led to the house, instead jumping off the small porch and landing midstride on the path. They wiggled their muscular bodies and wagged their tails as they greeted Drew like he was a soldier coming home from overseas.
Drew reached down to pet them as best he could, and I put a hand on his bicep to try to help steady him.
The dogs seemed to notice me as an afterthought, and I was thankful for it. Both had enormous heads and looked to weigh close to a hundred pounds. I was glad they didn’t jump, but they both sniffed me forcefully, and I didn’t know whether I should pet them or remain perfectly still.
“This one’s Daisy,” Drew said, pointing to the white one with brown spots, “and the other one is Tulip.”
Tulip was mostly black with some white on her paws and tail. Neither one really struck me as a delicate flower, but I tried not to judge too soon.
“Cute. Did your mom name them?” I knew Pam liked to garden, so it made the most sense.
“My dad. He thought it’d be funny to name two pit bull mixes something really nonthreatening.”
A few seconds later, we were out of the cold and in the living room. The home was clean, but I could tell they’d probably had the same furniture for most of Drew’s life, if not longer, and the faded teal carpet was flattened in most places.
Drew’s dad was sitting in a recliner near the TV, watching a basketball game.
He barely looked in my direction, but he raised a hand and uttered a “Hey.”
Not that I minded the lack of attention. Judging by all the faces currently staring at me like I was about to put on some sort of one-woman show, I’d be getting more than my share.
“Courtney, go get the magazines,” the tallest of the blondes ordered.
I made a mental note that the tallest one was not Courtney. This one was clearly the alpha of the group. Her face could be described as permanently hard, rough in a way that let people know she wasn’t taking their shit. She struck me as one of those people you’d love to have on your side but be scared to have against you.
One of the other sisters—presumably Courtney—had already gotten up and walked to the kitchen, so I at least knew who one of them was.
Courtney has a butterfly tattoo on her forearm, butterflies were once caterpillars, and caterpillar starts with a C like Courtney. Got it.
I’d never needed to use a mnemonic device for remembering names, but I’d used them for years to study, so it was a natural progression and one that would hopefully help me not look like a moron in front of Drew’s family.
While she was gone, I studied the other two, making distinctions where some could be made. Tall Alpha was heavily made-up—too much foundation, lipstick that was too red for her complexion. The other I mentally referred to as Fifty Shades of Blond because her blond hair, now that I was close enough to see, was dyed various tones ranging from platinum to a light bronze.
She was petite in every way—lean with sinewy muscles most women would die for. I suspected Fifty’s physique was probably genetic since Drew had told me he was the only one in his whole family who ever attempted to eat healthy or work out.
Several seconds later, Courtney returned carrying a few magazines. It surprised me anyone bought print anymore when everything was so easily accessible online.
“We’ve been dying for you to come over,” Courtney said. “We have so many styles picked out, and we need your input.”
She thrust one of the magazines toward me, holding it open and so close to my face that I couldn’t even see what I was supposed to be looking at.
“Heather likes this one,” she said, “but it’s asymmetrical, and I don’t really look great with that.”
“It doesn’t matter what you look good in. The bridesmaids’ dresses are Sophia’s decision.”
I assumed that comment had come from Heather since it would make the most sense that she’d be on the defensive.
Okay, Fifty is Heather, which makes Alpha Amber. And Courtney’s the caterpillar. Got it.
“I also have some pinned,” Heather added, picking up her phone from where it lay on the coffee table.
“Did you have a color in mind?” Amber asked. “Did you even pick a date yet? Or a season?”
Thankfully, those questions seemed to be directed at Drew, so I let him field them.
“Um, no. We haven’t really talked about it much. Sophia’s still in school for another year a
fter this. We don’t have to make any decisions today.”
“Of course not,” Drew’s mom added. “But since you’re finally both here, we can talk a little bit about it. I wanted to come by and see the two of you and discuss it before, but you know how time can get away from you sometimes.”
I actually didn’t know how time could get so far away that a mother couldn’t check on the son she’d almost lost, but I didn’t think it would be wise to ask. I was getting the impression that Drew’s family voiced intentions they never put action behind. And the saddest part of that was how Drew rolled with it as if it were normal.
I guessed to him it was.
“Maybe later,” Drew told her, shaking me from my thoughts. “Can I at least let Sophia breathe for a second? We barely stepped in the house before you started throwing magazines in her face. She hasn’t even met everyone yet.”
I assumed the person sitting on the arm of the couch was Ryan, Amber’s boyfriend, but I hadn’t actually met him yet. Once Drew’s mom and Heather headed into the kitchen, the living room felt significantly bigger. It also allowed Ryan to get up and move toward me unobstructed.
“Hi, I’m Ryan.” He then looked around the room. “My daughter’s around here somewhere. She might still be out back.”
“No,” a small voice called from the top of the stairs. “I’m up here playing with Amber’s makeup.”
I caught a glimpse of Amber looking beyond annoyed, though she had enough courtesy not to voice it.
“I’ll help you with it later,” Amber said. “Why don’t you come downstairs? It’s almost dinnertime.”
The girl was already halfway down the steps by the time Amber was finished talking.
“Are you Sophia?” she asked.
“I am. Are you Hazel?”
“Yeah.” She smiled broadly. “How did you know my name?”
“Drew’s told me a lot about you.”
“Probably how you can’t stand me,” Amber said.
Ryan put an arm on Amber like the simple touch might calm her down. “Stop,” he said softly. “She doesn’t hate you.”
“I never said she hated me. Jesus.”
Hazel did nothing to imply that either statement was false. She just stood there, staring at me like she was waiting for me to speak again. Even through her sweatshirt, I could tell that she was long and lean but not skinny exactly. Already at eight, Hazel had the build of a budding athlete. A swimmer maybe, or perhaps basketball would be her sport. Something that would allow her to use her long limbs as an advantage.
“So are you in second grade, Hazel?”
“Third,” she said, standing a bit taller and somehow more confidently.
I’d never seen a child more self-assured in my life.
“I turn nine in March.”
“Wow! Nine’s a big birthday. It’s your last year before you hit the double digits and become old like me.”
“You don’t look old. Amber looks a lot older than you.” Hazel gave Amber a side-eye as she said it, and I had to stop myself from laughing. Drew’s sister was feisty, but Hazel was feistier.
Ryan put his hands on Hazel’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “All right, all right, enough. Everyone’s here for Sophia, not to see you and Amber bicker.”
“We’re not bickering,” Amber said. “And I wouldn’t have to say anything to her if she wasn’t so rude to me.” She sounded more immature than the child she was speaking about.
“Saying nothing to her probably wouldn’t be a good idea either,” Courtney chimed in. “You have to talk to her. She’s your boyfriend’s daughter.”
“I don’t have to do anything. And who asked for your opinion anyway? You can give relationship advice when you sleep with more than your pillow.” Amber huffed, batted her dark eyelashes, which looked weighed down by the heavy amount of mascara she’d put on them, and pulled Ryan into the kitchen. She claimed it was so she could give her mom a hand with dinner, but her cover was less than believable.
Mr. Nolan remained in his recliner like he was alone in the room with only his TV and Cheetos. Whether he chose to ignore everyone or was truly so oblivious to anything but his own interests remained to be seen.
“You call that lawyer yet?” he asked Drew, only bothering to look over at his son for a moment before the game pulled his attention away again.
Drew sat down on the couch near him, and I followed, not wanting to stand in the middle of the room without him.
“Not yet,” Drew answered. “You can do it too, you know.”
This time Mr. Nolan’s focus was fully on his son. His scruffy salt-and-pepper jaw hardened before he spoke. “I asked you to do it.”
“I’ve been busy.” Drew offered no apology, and I figured it was intentional rather than an oversight.
Mr. Nolan laughed. “You don’t know what busy is.”
“Oh, I don’t?”
“No. You don’t. Try raising five kids and taking care of a house. Then you’ll know what busy is.”
“How about you try holding a job—or two for that matter—for more than a couple of months? Cody and I do most of the work on the house anyway.”
Mr. Nolan sat up straighter, pointing a finger at his son. “You better watch the way you speak to me in my house.”
I’d taken a seat on the couch after Drew sat down and had tried to make myself comfortable, physically and mentally, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Drew’s family was so different from my own and many of the ones I’d grown up knowing.
I wondered if Drew had sensed this was the case and had caused his feelings that I was better than him. Which was still crap because his family didn’t make him who he was, but suddenly, I felt like I could better understand why he might have reacted the way he had.
While the rest of the family seemed unfazed by the argument, I was still, not wanting to look at them or take out my phone to look preoccupied.
Drew hadn’t mentioned his dad wanting him to call a lawyer, and I couldn’t imagine what it was for. At least, judging by Drew’s resistance to calling, it most likely didn’t have anything to do with him. I wondered if Drew was going to say something back in defense, but he stayed quiet for a moment and settled back against the couch.
Then he muttered, “Sorry. Let’s just drop it for now.”
The room was pretty quiet after that except for the sound of the TV and Hazel’s occasional comment. Amber was still in the kitchen, but Heather had come back in, and she and Courtney were spread out on the floor with their wedding magazines, arguing over dresses.
Drew rubbed my thigh and gave me a smile, but it was tight and clearly forced. I knew him well enough to know he regretted asking me to come here. It was a life he’d rather keep me separate from, and here I was, taking it all in, one brash comment at a time.
“Where’s Cody?” I asked him, just realizing I hadn’t seen his brother yet.
The question had been directed at Drew, but Heather answered first.
“Late like always. He’ll probably be here soon with some lame excuse.”
I tried to reconcile that with the Cody I’d come to know—the one who’d come to visit Drew so many times, helped out whenever he could, and hadn’t let any of us down since he started making deliveries for us. I decided I knew a much different version of Cody. Just like the Drew I was sitting next to who was currently fuming but unwilling to speak was not the guy I’d come to know.
Mr. Nolan glanced at Drew a few times with only his eyes, like acknowledging him with his whole body somehow showed feelings he was probably trying to conceal. Concern maybe? Regret at how he’d spoken to his son?
I didn’t think Drew even noticed his father glance in his direction, and I wondered if he’d even care had he seen him.
“Why’d you come tonight if you’re gonna be miserable?” his dad asked him, this time turning off the TV and standing to stretch. But he didn’t wait for Drew to answer before he started heading to the kitchen. “Dinner’s probably ’bout
ready. Pam? How much longer?” he called.
“You can sit,” she said. “It’ll be out soon.”
Sorry, Drew mouthed as he put an arm around me. Then he said quietly, “We can go if you want.”
“It’s fine,” I assured him. “But if you want to leave, I definitely understand.”
“I’m used to it. Not even worth arguing with him when he gets like this. He does this when he’s stressed. He’s been asking me to call this lawyer for weeks. Sometimes I legitimately forget, and sometimes I intentionally avoid it.”
It wasn’t my business, but since he’d brought it up, I asked, “What’s it about?”
“Some sort of medical malpractice thing. It’s a bunch of horseshit, which is why I want no part of it. He’s probably worried the lawyer will think it’s bullshit, so he thinks having me call and acting all concerned will help his case.”
I nodded but didn’t say anything.
Thankfully, Cody burst through the door a few seconds later. He rubbed both dogs’ heads when they ran to him and then tossed his jacket on the railing.
“Sorry I’m late. Greg didn’t get there till quarter after, and I had to stop for gas.”
Drew’s sisters raised their eyebrows at me, and Courtney gave him a skeptical, “Uh-huh.”
“’Sup, Soph?” Cody said. He leaned over the coffee table to give me a hug, and I rose to greet him. Despite having such a less-than-stellar role model, the Nolan boys seemed to have turned out pretty decent.
A few minutes later, Drew’s mom called us all in to find a seat at the table in the small dining room. I scooted around to the center, where Hazel had written a place card with my name on it. Everyone had an assigned spot, and I had a feeling that my place in the middle hadn’t been chosen at random.
Once we were all crowded around the table, the family dynamic picked up a bit, especially now that Cody was home. He and Ryan exchanged thoughts on one of the Nolans’ new neighbors, who Cody insisted were running some sort of human-trafficking business.
“What else could it be?” he asked. “No one ever sleeps there. Every day at three thirty, a bunch of cars pull up and all these teenagers go into the house. The cars drive away, and then at eight fifteen, all the cars come back, the kids get in, and they drive off. Eight fifteen on the dot. I could set my watch by it.”
Truth or Dare You (The Love Game Book 2) Page 15
