“No. She’ll want to be here, and I appreciate that but I need to do this on my own,” I inform her and then add, “With you. You’re the only one I want here.”
She nods and smiles but says nothing and keeps her eyes on Dylan. She’s been weirdly quiet since we had sex last night. I watch her now. She’s wearing a navy jumpsuit with white buttons. Her hair is down but she only finger combed it so it’s wavy and a little messy in that perfect way. She threw water on her face this morning after she brushed her teeth. I watched her from the bedroom as I changed Dylan, and she threw on some mascara and blush, I think because of the upcoming video call with my parents. Anyway, she looks beautiful, but also like a skittish kitten.
“Mallory?” She looks up. “Since I’m having big conversations today I thought I would tell you that… I don’t think this is an arrangement anymore. Or an agreement. Or anything resembling anything I’ve ever had before.”
“Oh.”
We stare at each other. Her in the dining room, by the table. Me in the kitchen, by the island. Dylan ignoring both of us and concentrating on his banana. Finally, I break the stare and look down into my coffee as I lift the other cup I filled and bring it to her. “I don’t know what to say next.”
She takes the mug from me and looks up into my eyes. Her expression is startlingly clear, glinting with gold in the morning sunlight. “Tell me what I am if I’m not like the other girls.”
It sounds so simple. So why is my heart running like it’s being chased by a serial killer? I brush my fingers over her hair. “You’re?—”
The doorbell rings.
We both startle. “Who the heck is here at this hour?”
I shrug at her question and make my way to the door. The only thing I can think is that it's Tenley because her schedule is that of a vampire with ADHD. Or it's Crew because he forgot something here.
Holding my coffee, dressed in nothing but sweatpants and a ratty old T-shirt, I open the door and come face-to-face with Jordan and Jessie Garrison.
“What?” I blink. “I… How?” I swallow and choke.
“Westwood said you swapped houses with his son,” Dad informs me. “Yet another red flag in a series you’ve been waving lately.”
Fuck. Of course, Crew told his parents he moved. Of course Avery Westwood mentioned it to Dad, they're friends. How did I not see this coming? Dad gently pushes me aside and steps into the hall. Mom follows and stops to give me a hug. "We love you, Tate Henry Garrison. You need to know that we love you."
“Okay.”
Mallory and Dylan are out of view, the dining room table is just on the other side of the wall that separates the entrance. All my parents can see is the living room and the open bi-fold doors that lead to the backyard.
What do I do? What the fuck do I do?
Dad looks down the hall into the living room then turns back to me. “We love you. Like your mother said. Now do you mind telling us why the fuck you have a picture of a kid on your phone that isn’t you?”
“But looks exactly like you,” Mom adds, her voice shaking.
“And don’t tell us the same lies you told your Uncle Devin,” Dad warns, his blue eyes narrowed so harshly that his crow’s feet deepen like canyons on the sides of his eyes. “Your mother knows every baby picture ever taken of you and your sister, and that’s not one of them.”
“He showed you the footage?” I ask, feeling a bit bitter about a betrayal by my uncle.
“The whole world saw the footage, Tate,” Dad replies tersely. “They aired it as part of your segment after the game.”
“I told them not to!”
"There was a cell phone on the corner of the couch," Mom interjects, her eyes also darting around the house. "An iPhone. That kid is under a year and the iPhone came out when you were four and Tenley was three. So I'm not the only one who might figure out that isn't you or your sister."
Now I know where Tenley gets her investigative skills from. I could say that out loud, to lighten the mood, but I doubt it would work. So instead, I take a deep breath and try to remain calm when I say. “Come in. I have someone you have to meet.”
“Oh my God…” Mom whispers and Dad takes her hand and side-by-side they follow me into the living room.
I turn to the dining room, motioning grandly with my arm only to look over my shoulder and find it empty. The entire first floor, that I can see, appears to be empty.
She ran. I can’t help but smile at that. Mallory Echolls would do anything for me. It’s like… she loves me.
“Tate?” Dad snaps and I can tell he’s on his last ounce of patience. My father is a kind, sympathetic, and compassionate man but he has buttons like anyone else and if you push them enough… he will let you know. And you will regret it. “What the hell kind of bullshit are you pulling here? Why are you living in this big house? Why is there a fucking high chair?”
“We’re trying not to say the F word here anymore,” I warn.
