A date? Wow. I… Mallory looks so excited. “Yeah okay. Tonight. Let’s go out, Mal. We’ll figure out the details when I get back. I’m off to practice. And I have a meeting afterward.”
My parents barely even say goodbye. They’re still staring at Dylan. Mom is making gurgling sounds and Dad is making faces at him so he’ll smile and laugh.
I walk to the front door. Mallory shuffles along beside me. “Are you sure it’s okay I offered my room? I don’t have to spend the nights with you. There’s a couch in the office.”
“If you think I’m letting you stay on a couch,” I lean in and kiss her, “maybe you missed it but I just told my parents I have a girlfriend.”
“I didn’t miss it,” she replies. “I may be in shock, but I heard it.”
“Yeah, I’ll be honest, I’m a little stunned myself.” I laugh. “And now we’re going on a date.”
“We don’t have?—”
I lean down and kiss her. “We’re going on a date. My parents won’t be here forever. Even if they buy a place, they’ll only be here occasionally so let’s take advantage of the built-in babysitter while we have it.”
I kiss her again and then leave. I'm still feeling a little disoriented. Like I'm in an entirely different world than the one I woke up in, but it's not over yet. I have the team management to handle next.
Chapter23
Mallory
Ifeel a little lost. I haven’t had a free afternoon since I got here. But Mr. and Mrs. Garrison insisted I take the afternoon and do things for myself. They wanted some time with Dylan. I couldn’t say no. They were handling this better than I’d expected and if they wanted to bond with their grandson, I would let them. So although I had no idea what to do, I left the house. I could stick around, but it was still a little weird.
I had never really spoken much to either of Tate's parents. My family and their family were forced together at town events because everyone wanted to see the famous hockey players together, but my family and Tate's liked to pretend the other didn't exist. I remember being about ten at the grocery store with my mom and she literally got out of a short line and into a very long one just to avoid standing directly behind Jessie Garrison.
But for me personally, I've never had any reason to dislike Jordan or Jessie Garrison. Because I've never really met them until today. And the way they accepted Dylan so openly, and were ready to accept me when they thought I was his mom, definitely doesn't make me hate them. They seem like good people.
But now that they know I'm not the mom, and they've been told I'm the girlfriend, there's a slight shift in the dynamic. They're cordial with me, but thank God we have Dylan as a distraction. Otherwise, we would be struggling to make small talk all day and ignoring the elephant in the room, which is whatever the hell went down between them and my parents when they were my age.
So now, I’m walking leisurely through the Third Street promenade in Santa Monica. I have an iced caramel latte in my hand and a shopping bag in the other. I spent forty minutes in a store convincing myself to buy a new outfit for my first official date with Tate. It’s a pretty, snug cocktail dress in a dark jewel-tone green. It's like nothing I've ever owned before and I'm probably insane for buying it, and the two hundred dollar heels the sales clerk said were the only shoes in the world that went with it, but… this is a big deal for me.
I'm dating my dream man. I should splurge on something pretty. And lord knows I have the money. Tate's been paying me and I don't have a single living expense. My phone starts to buzz in my purse so I dig it out and take a seat on a bench facing one of the dinosaur topiaries that pepper the outdoor walkways. My brother Beckett's name is on the screen and for the first time in a long time, I smile when looking at it. He's called me at least once a week since I got here, but I've started to avoid his calls. He is digging for information for my parents, who still want me to come home.
"Hi, Beck."
“Hey yourself,” he replies. “You sound… happy?”
I smile. “Yeah. You could say that. How are you? How’s the wedding planning coming?”
“I don’t know. Ask Heather. She’s the one handling everything,” he replies and there’s a tension in his voice that I know well. “And before you give me attitude like Ma does for not helping organize this debacle, I’ll tell you she won’t let me do a thing. She says I will fuck it up and waste time.”
He sounded like that all through high school too. I thought it was because he was stressed out trying to get the grades to get into a good school. After all, he knew even then that he wanted to be a doctor. Or maybe the pressure from our dad to keep playing hockey, which he gave up in junior year. But now I know it was dating Heather that stressed him out. He didn't sound like this after they broke up. Not when he was in college or when he was dating Mackenzie Larue.
“Brides will be brides, I guess,” I say because what do I know? I’m not a bride. Tate flashes through my brain, in one of his fancy suits, standing at the edge of Silver Bay Lake, in front of an archway of wildflowers and a minister, with Dylan in a teeny suit by his side.
Whoa. Chill out brain. We aresonot there yet.
“Mal? Hello!”
“Sorry. What?”
"I said when are you coming back?" he barks, a little annoyed I zoned out. "Heather is worried you'll bail on the wedding. Mom and Dad are worried you met some granola-eating hippie in Oregon or joined a cult."
I laugh so loud passersby glance over. I quiet down and take a sip of my latte. “Let me guess, Dad is worried about the hippie, Mom about the cult.”
“Yes,” Beckett replies. “And I’m worried about you. How are you supporting yourself? How are your injuries? And your mental health?”
"I'm healing both mentally and physically." I stare out at the busy promenade and up at the blue skies above. The gentle ocean breeze dances through my hair. "I'm happy like you said. And I'm going to be okay. I will be home for the wedding but… I think this is where I'm going to stay. For a while."
