The truth was, he had never given much thought to what all Lydia got up to in her spare time. Romantically.
She was Lydia Clay. She was an enigma. A special sort of creature who seemed to exist outside and above the base sorts of nonsense that other human beings got up to. At least, that was how he had always chosen to see her.
The truth was, she was beautiful. He had known that for years.
But he thought of her as something like a fairy. Not a woman you could actually reach out and touch. God, no.
He didn’t think of her that way.
Oh no? How about when you just suddenly realized that she was a woman?
How about when you gave Hank a bath and got a good look at her figure and chose to touch her like the asshole you are?
He’d been messing with her. That was all. Like she was a sister ...
Liar. You wanted to touch her.
He winced and shoved that thought to the side. He didn’t need to go having thoughts like that. But then he’d asked that question about who she wanted to lose her virginity with.
She said she didn’t have anyone in mind. But he wondered.
Yeah. He did wonder.
And because he was marinating on the issue with Lydia, he was uncertain how he felt when Matthew called and invited him to dinner at his parents’ place.
Eating at the Clays’ was a regular thing. It wasn’t formal or anything, and often the invites came last minute. But he ended up having dinner there once a month at a minimum. Tom Clay would barbecue, while Nancy Clay would make macaroni and cheese and dinner rolls that were to die for, and typically a cream pie of some kind.
The kind of domestic bliss that had been completely foreign to Remy when he was a child. He had been convinced, actually, that the happy family was all a lie made up by media. Until he had started spending time with this family. Whose members clearly loved each other, and actually took part in these sorts of rituals. Family dinners, quality time.
They didn’t just do it, they did it joyfully.
They continued to do it, even with their children well into adulthood. They continued to invite him, as if he was actually part of the family, and not only because he was a sad child they felt sorry for.
That was the thing.
They didn’t need to include him in their get-togethers. They just did.
And it was an amazing thing.
So even with inappropriate thoughts about touching Lydia pinging around in his brain, he said yes to the dinner invitation.
Nancy texted him and asked him to bring his new dog.
Of course, the Clay household was animal friendly.
So that was how he and Hank found themselves loading up in the truck on Sunday night for family dinner. His stomach growled.
He had great food at home. But there was just something about a home-cooked meal from . . .
Nancy wasn’t his mom. But the truth was, she was the closest thing he had. And it was special to have her cook for him. It reminded him of when he was fifteen, completely blown away that an adult might care about him to the degree that she seemed to. His own parents couldn’t seem to be bothered.
The past had seemed so much closer the last few weeks. Ever since his dad had died.
He wasn’t sad. There was nothing to be sad about. His father was a prick. The end.
But death sure made a man go over old ground he thought he’d long ago left behind.
His confused thoughts made him ache when he drove up to the Clay house. When he saw the porch light on, that porch light that had always been on for him even though it didn’t have to be.
