When it comes to my opinions on their dad, there’s not much I have to piece together a positive conclusion. He’s a sensitive topic for Grant and isn’t the most patient with his kids. And incredibly intrusive to first-time dinner guests. As far as first-technically-second impressions go, he’s not doing great.
Her body turns to mine, sighing. “I’m really sorry about my dad.”
“Don’t be. It’s okay.”
“He’s horrible.”
“He’s not that bad.”
“He’s an asshole.”
Grant has emphasized his half-siblings hold little to no connection with him. He’s repeated to me numerous times they grew up differently, look differently, act differently.
But with Billie’s green eyes scrunched in disgust at the mention of their father, they look nearly identical. I chuckle at the uncanny resemblance.
“You sound like your brother.”
“Yeah, right.” She snorts and tilts her head to the side. “Locke’s too scared to criticize my dad with him one door over.”
“I was talking about Grant.”
“Oh.” Her tone raises, but not in confusion. It’s high pitched, like it’s teetering on amusement. She grins and nods. “You’re right. Grant’s not afraid to shit talk our dad, no matter where he is.”
“Trust me.” My breath comes out in a long sigh. “I know.”
We laugh together, and it’s the first time I’ve felt fully aligned with Billie. She’s not energetic to the point of shock-value and not strangely folding into herself. She’s just a girl.
It feels like I’m talking to my boyfriend’s relative—his sister—rather than a stranger, who he insists she is to him.
“He really doesn’t fear my dad at all, huh?” I shrug half-heartedly. Fear isn’t the emotion Grant’s shown when it comes to his dad, as far as I’m concerned. Billie smirks. “That’s why Locke idolizes him so much.”
I wait for her to explain and make sense of the sentence, but she doesn’t, so I clarify. “Locke idolizes your dad… because Grant doesn’t like him?”
“No.” She giggles again. “Locke idolizes Grant because he’s the only one who doesn’t back down in front of my dad.”
“Locke?” My voice lifts in surprise.
The same Locke that Grant told me has had a personal vendetta against him because he’s “Keller’s flawless minion son”?
Billie laughs louder, harder than I’ve heard her laugh all night. So loud that I glance at the glass door in case someone hears it, but all I see is Grant standing eye-to-eye with his dad. That’s not going to go well.
“Yes, Locke.” The sleeves of her large coat dab at the corners of her eyes where tears of laughter are forming. “Oh my gosh, it’sso funny how cool he thinks Grant is. Goes on and on about him every time after they see each other.”
I sway left to right, trying to get my footing back after the shock rocks through me. It’s hard to imagine Locke talking for extended periods of time at all. I think I could count every word he’s said to me on one hand.
Then to imagine him going off on tangents about Grant? In a positive light? It contradicts every mental image my boyfriend has painted for me about his half-brother.
I don’t really know his family at all. Neither does he, it seems.
“I thought-” I cut myself off to choose my words carefully. Nothing has pointed to Grant’s family recognizing how much he hates being around them, though from my viewpoint it’s more than obvious.
Do they know him as little as he knows them? Are they even able to read each other, their body language and interactions, to any point of understanding?
Carefully considered, I say, “I didn’t realize Locke thought so highly of Grant.”
“That’s because he’s too shy to talk. Especially to him.” Another round of laughter shakes her. “Why do you think he covered for Grant? He said you guys were horrible liars, and even worse actors.”
Billie’s still laughing when my brows furrow.
