Mom turned her back to us as she stirred something in a bowl. “That was different.”
“How so?” Elle challenged her sister-in-law.
“I was—he was—”
“He wasn’tDad?” I cried again. I liked the way the conversation was turning off of me onto Mom.
Lia was laughing as she listened in. I could hear her voice vibrating against my eardrum. Maybe this earbud idea wasn’t so great.
“He was moving away,” Mom continued. “He and I had been friends for eons, and he—It was just a peck.”
“Ahhh, young love,” Aunt Elle sighed dreamily. “I miss it. Those days of wondering if you’d be together forever. Writing your first name with his last name to see how it looked.”
“I’m not in middle school, Aunt Elle.”Give me some credit.
“You mean to tell me you haven’t tried Brooks’s last name with your first name?” Aunt Elle’s eyebrows winged upward.
“Haveyou?” Lia squealed on her end of the secret conversation.
Gosh. I couldn’t lieagain.“Well, once but—”
“Ah ha! I knew it!” Aunt Elle was celebratory. “Is he going to join us for Easter?”
“We’re hardly engaged,” I retorted. The idea of bringing Brooks to Easter dinner was terrifying. I wouldn’t put him through that torture. I could see him, sandwiched between Aunt Elle and Aunt Tracy, the twin aunts moving in for the kill. The poor guy would be smothered. Throw in a hefty dose of Jake and Jadon, and he’d never survive.
“Your older cousin, Tiffany, is bringing her boyfriend,” Aunt Elle argued.
“Tiffany is twenty, and everyone knows they’re getting married,” I argued.
“Don’t tell Tracy that,” Mom inserted.
Mom and Aunt Elle laughed.
“Well, I just want you to know, I’m proud of you.” Aunt Elle suddenly got serious. She looked at me with her crystal-blue eyes, and I could see she really meant it.
“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Lia cooed. But she didn’t know what was going through my mind in that moment. I wanted to ask Aunt Elle,Why? Was she not proud of mebeforeI’d made up a boyfriend?BeforeI’d started dating?
But I didn’t ask why. I just let her comment hang there. Suspended. With no further explanation. The funny thing was, I’d always wanted to hear her say something like that. My other aunts, too. I wasn’t always the most popularcousin, so getting their approval meant a lot. It also stung a bit that I wasn’t “in” until I’d made up a boyfriend. Until Brooks had become real. And I was pretty sure if they found out the whole thing was faked? Well, it’d backfire on me. The problem with deceit was that it was like playing dominoes. One tipped over, and they all tipped over. All that was left was a mess.
Chapter 22
Brooks
Mom had finally come home. Dad and I got through the rest of February without any moredeep talksabout life. The best part was Friday nights when I got to hang out with the Walters family.
This Friday was no different. I was even more eager to be at their place because Mom and Dad were actually talking, and I didn’t want to mess that up. Maybe going home to Minnesota had been a good thing for Mom. She seemed less uptight. Dad, on the other hand, seemed more stressed. I knew it was because he didn’t do well without Mom around, even though he swore he did.
Anyway, Brielle had warned me she had her interview call with the Teen Writers about the internship this Friday night. I couldn’t tell if she’d mentioned it to me ‘cause she didn’t want me to come over, or because she wanted me to be around for moral support. Either way, Reece wanted me to come. We’d gotten the schedule for games, and the first one was in four weeks—right at the end of March. Assuming Wisconsin weather cooperated. So Reece wanted to work out in the basement. Practice started this next week. Things seemed a little early this year, but what did I know? I didn’t set the baseball schedule.
About halfway through pizza, Brielle pushed back from the table. She looked about as white as a brand-new baseball. I glanced at the clock and realized it was time for her interview.
“You got this,” Reece said, his cheeks bulging with pizza.
Mrs. Walters reached over and squeezed Brielle’s hand. Mr. Walters gave her a silent nod of encouragement.
Brielle’s gaze landed on me. I could see tears swimming in her eyes. They were what I called “Bri’s stress tears”. She got them when she was on the edge. I figured her family knew this and would do something, but they all went back to their pizza. Maybe they were just used to it being Brielle’s way of processing life. I wasn’t used to it, though. All I could think of was Gizmo, my rescued cat, needing to be saved.
“Want me to come?”
