The life skills classes were better because, unlike therapy, they were on subjects I could actually use, like driver’s training, meal prep, and budget planning. But time was quickly running out for Grace and me before she went back to school in a few weeks, and despite her reassurances, I knew things were going to drastically change. There would be no more lazy afternoons by the pool. No more stolen kisses behind the shed. No more family game nights.
Life on this side of the gate felt like a whole other world, like I’d stepped into an alternate universe where I was safe and where people treated me like one of their own. But as much as I loved being around Grace and her family, there was always that nagging voice in my head reminding me that all this was too good to be true. That life was never this kind to me. But then, Grace would curl up next to me on the couch, her soft hair tickling my neck, or Quinn would wrap an arm around my shoulder and whisper the world’s most inappropriate joke in my ear. Or Michelle would make my favorite dinner. Yes, I already had one.
But nothing spoke more of family than Scott taking me under his wing. I’d never had any role models or people to look up to, so I had no choice but to follow or get left behind. Scott effortlessly slipped into the role of father figure, showing me more in the last few weeks than I’d learned from all the men who’d passed through my life put together. Thanks to him, I’d been taught how to barbecue, play poker, build Legos, and open the door for his daughter. And then there were the less tangible things, like the importance of a firm handshake, how to speak up for myself, and the value of looking others in the eye. Such instruction might seem insignificant to some, but for me, it was a revelation, and I soaked it up like a sponge. Scott was teaching me how to stand on my own two feet. How to be a man.
* * *
The only McKallisterI hadn’t connected with was Jake. For one, I hadn’t made the best first impression. Hours before he came around for the first time, I’d lost a bet with Quinn and the guys in our new ragtag band. I was too new to understand the seriousness with which they took lost wagers. The three of them pinned me down and spiked my hair with cement gel before spray-painting it blue. Grace was not amused; nor, did it seem, was Jake. He barely spoke three sentences to me that day.
Unlike the other members of his family, Jake was not welcoming. He never engaged me. The only time there was any interaction with him was when I caught him staring at me, but then he’d quickly look away. I wanted to confront him, but I didn’t dare. It was his house. His family. His right to hate my guts. So I kept my distance, careful to clear out before there were only the two of us left in a room together.
“… the first couple of slices went down fine,” Casey giggled, tears sliding down her cheeks as she told the tale of the German chocolate cake she and Jake had flushed down the toilet in their honeymoon suite. “But we got cocky. Started feeding bigger slices into the toilet.”
She halted her lively storytelling, dissolving into a fit of hysterics that set off the rest of us.
Jake picked up the tale where Casey left off. “German chocolate cake is already the ugly duckling of the cake world, so you can imagine what it looked like coming back up from the bowels of hell. When it crested, and the first bits and pieces began to drain over the sides of the bowl, Casey’s like, ‘Do something!’ I’m like, ‘What do you want me to do?’ and she’s like, ‘Plunge it’ and I’m like, ‘With my hands?’”
I’d never seen Jake so animated and alive. The times I’d been around him, he’d always been subdued, but today, playing off his outgoing wife, Jake was every bit as entertaining as the rest of his family. It was the first time I saw the similarities between us. I’d always kept to myself, lost in the murkiness of my mind, until Grace came along and dragged me into the light. Now I couldn’t imagine not basking in her sun.
Casey recovered enough to put the finishing touches on the German chocolate cake story. “We had to call maintenance to come plunge the toilet. He totally thought it had come out of Jake’s ass.”
“Only because this traitor”—Jake hooked his arm around the back of his wife’s neck and playfully dragged a giggling Casey to his chest—“went and hid behind the drapes and left me to deal with the whole thing. The poor guy was throwing up in his mouth. But what was I supposed to do, tell him we were flushing cake down the pipes?”
Honeymoon-related conversation continued until Casey announced she had pictures of their wedding on her laptop in the other room. The girls left with her, as did Finn. He’d been given no choice. But the other guys left one by one, lured away by dessert. I didn’t realize until it was too late that it was just Jake and me out on the porch. I froze, not sure if I should stay or go.
“Relax,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I swear you and Grace are like skittish rabbits around me.”
“Why is Grace skittish with you?”
“I don’t know. You’re tight with her. You tell me.”
“You overestimate my ability to effectively communicate.”
Jake laughed. “So, this whole thing isn’t an act?”
“The skittish rabbit thing? No, it’s no act. I’m always looking over my shoulder.”
Slowly, he dragged his eyes over me, sizing me up. I shouldn’t have mentioned that last part. It suggested I had something to hide; which was true, but he didn’t need to know.
“What happened to the blue spiky hair?” Jake finally spoke. “I thought that was your signature look.”
“No.” I grinned. “I lost a bet to your brother that day. Retribution was swift.”
“Oh, I’m sure it was. Quinn takes competition to a whole new level.”
The way it was said sounded more like a diss, so I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to get between two rival brothers.
“So, what’s your story?” Jake asked.
“What have you been told?”
He smiled. “Good thinking. Get the lowdown before you answer.”
“Do you give your life story to everyone who asks?”
“Don’t have to. Everyone already knows.”
I raised my brows, surprised he’d go there. He was a notoriously private person, probably because he had to deal with the entire world knowing the worst parts of his life. At least my secret was mine.
