"In Oregon?" He says it like it's a steaming pile of dog poo.
"I have to go, Beck," I tell him. "I have a date tonight. But don't worry you can tell Mom and Dad it's not with a granola-eating hippie or a cult member."
“Well who is it?—”
“Bye Beck!”
I hit end on the call and shove the phone back in my purse. I get up. Obviously Mr. and Mrs. Garrison know how to take care of a toddler but I still feel like I’ve been gone long enough. I should go home and make sure everything is okay.
I stand up and start toward the parking garage off Third Street where I left the new Mercedes SUV Tate bought for Dylan and me to use. I wonder how his meeting with management is going. I know it’s going to be a weird conversation, but I’m glad that Dylan won’t be a secret anymore. If Tate actually wins the Cup this year, I want Dylan there with him.
“Mal?”
I stop walking.
“Mallory?”
I know that voice. I turn around and there, in front of the Gap Store, is my younger brother Emmett and two guys I don’t know. I can tell by their hulking size they’re likely also hockey players from his team. Emmett lumbers over with a friendly but surprised grin. He pulls me into a hug. “What are you doing in California? Mom and Dad said you were in Oregon.”
I’m on vacation. I am visiting a friend. I’m not Mallory, I must just look like your sister sorry strange man, have a good day. All of these lies run through my head but none of them come out of my mouth. Emmett is the sibling I’m closest to, but that doesn’t mean much. Still, I really don’t have a reason to keep lying. Tate is talking to his team right now. His parents know. Dylan’s birth certificate, with Tate’s name on it, is being processed.
“I live here.”
Emmett pulls back from the hug and stares at me with his eyes that match my own. “You live here? In Santa Monica, California?”
“Well, in Venice actually,” I reply and stare at his teammates. “Hi. I’m his sister.”
“Echolls, you didn’t mention you had a beautiful sister,” one of them says with a broad flirty smile.
“I’ll catch up with you two later,” Emmett replies and starts pulling me away from his horny teammates.
When we’re across the walkway near an overly fragrant candle shop, he turns back to me. “What the fuck, Mal? Why does everyone think you’re in Oregon.”
“Because I lied to them,” I admit. “Em, look, I was dealing with a lot when Diana died. And you know how Mom and Dad are. If I went back to Silver Bay, my situation would have been more complicated.”
He stares down at me, his expression contemplative. He gets how overbearing our parents can be. How Dad loves to make everything about him and Mom isn’t happy unless she’s miserable. Beckett is a lot like them, so he doesn’t see it. But Emmett does. He’s a hockey player, which automatically makes him Dad’s favorite but he’s not like Dad. On or off the ice.
He grips my shoulders and gives them a squeeze. “I’m just glad you seem to be okay. You look good Mallory.”
“I am good.” I give him a quick smile. “I guess you’re here to play the Quake?”
“Yeah.” He tilts his head. “You don’t follow my career at all, do you?”
“I do!” I feel like shit. “I just… I have been busy, Em.”
He leans down a bit so he can grab one of my hands. He's so tall that I'm a literal munchkin beside him. Emmett is a towering six-foot-five. In high school, he played both basketball and hockey, much to my father’s dismay.
“I haven’t called because Mom, Dad, and Beckett all say you barely ever pick up anyway, but I want you to know how sorry I am about Diana.” The sadness in Emmett’s hazel eyes is genuine. “And I’m glad to see you’re okay. Your injuries have obviously healed.”
“Yes. I’m good and I’ve been cleared by a doctor here so you can tell Mom and Dad that,” I reply and squeeze his hand before pulling my own back. “I should go though. And I’m sure you want to rejoin your teammates. Good luck tonight.”
“Wait one minute!” Emmett says firmly before I can start to walk away. I turn back and stare at him. He cocks his head again. “Why did you pick Los Angeles, Mal? Of all the places to start over, why L.A.?”
“I mean…” I hold up my hands and kind of wave them around. “Look at this place. It’s sunny all the time. It’s warm. There’s a beach every five miles. And lots of nanny work.”
“So you have a job?”
“I… yeah. I have a job.”
