8
CARTER
I’m slightly concerned by the amount of cheese, crackers, and fruit on the tray next to soft drinks on the coffee table in Oliver’s living room.
“Did you hear me, Son?” My father, Edward Oaks, is the man that everyone in town would lay out the red carpet for. Truthfully, I’m not sure why he didn’t run for mayor before he retired, but maybe he is projecting his life ambitions onto me. He’s over the top with his quest for me to win, yet it’s almost too humorous.
“Seriously, Carter, Deputy Sheriff Jones is ready to walk into your spot when you hang up the badge. Now, you need to ensure that you’re at that end-of-summer festival in a few weeks. That’s prime time to shake hands and throw on a smile for local businesses,” he reiterates, because I might have let my thoughts float to other pressing issues.
My mother whispers something to Jane, the woman handling press and marketing. By that I mean she plasters a poster up here and there and tells the weekly Everhope Times what to write. The only thing earth-shattering that she has come up with is that there is a black-tie charity function next month where county and state politicians will be present, with my name even thrown around for a congressional seat one day.
“I hear you all.” I give everyone a little salute.
“Good. I love your talking points. County road updates. More funding to schools. Local business incentives. What about population growth?” my brother cheekily lists, and his last comment doesn’t fly by me.
I give him a warning glare. “Why are you here, again?”
“Because this is my home which I offered for your campaign headquarters since your house is for peaceful Zen only, and I wanted a snack. My wife is busy shopping with Ros—” He stops when he realizes whose name he is about to say.
It’s too late. My mother’s head perks up at record speed because her radar to my love life is disconcerting.
“Rose? She’s here?” She begins to look around like a headless chicken. “Someone mentioned they saw her the other day, but I laughed it off that they must have been mistaken.”
Right on cue, the front door opens, with Hailey and Rosie laughing, each holding a shopping bag. Their laughter fades as soon as they realize that we’re not alone.
“Oliver,” his wife greets him with a raised octave. “I thought you were supposed to be finished by four,” she mutters under her tight smile as her eyes circle the room. By her side, Rosie’s face is blank, unsure what to do.
“We ran over time. Something about free coffee for voters,” he replies and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck.
“Love the communication with a warning text,” she retorts.
I stand and usher myself to Rosie. “Perhaps everyone can give us a minute,” I suggest.
“Why? Do you two need to talk? Maybe you should do that over dinner. Absolutely, go to dinner and talk.” My mom’s enthusiasm really needs to be checked by a doctor.
“Yeah.Dinner is probably a few steps behind,” Oliver notes to himself.
Everyone privy to the details of our news whips their gaze to Oliver.
“Uh, hi, everyone.” Rosie gives a little wiggle of her fingers. “I-I… was just in town to see Hailey,” she lies.
I rub my face with my hands, all eyes on me.
“How about we go to the other room to talk,” I recommend to Rosie.
She nods in agreement, and we quickly exit the room down the hall near the garage where Jet has been baby gated in the laundry room because my dad hates that dog.
“Shit. They weren’t supposed to be here,” Rosie lowers her voice and looks panicked.
I touch her arm to calm her, even though I might be having a little freakout, too. “I think we have no choice. They’re never going to let me forget that you and I are in the same room right now. Plus, you said week by week, and apparently, this is our week.”
Rosie fans her face with her hand. “Okay, you’re right. It’s not like they’re my parents. You should be the one who might be having a meltdown, not me. It’s your responsibility to handle this.”
My lips roll in and my face strains because I’m well aware that she is right. “Fair point. I’ll tell them.”
“Right. You’ll tell them.” She doesn’t sound too convinced.
“Yep. I’ll tell them that you’re pregnant.” I don’t seem to be moving.
