“I have manners, Robert. What I don’t have is a husband who can remember to close the garage door.” Mom turns to glare at Dad, who shrugs with the calm confidence of a man who’s been married long enough to know winning isn't the goal.
“Dana, love of my life, I closed it. Ialwaysclose it.”
“You do not always close it. Remember when the raccoon got in and made a nice little nest? Whose fault was that?”
“That was 2014.”
“And yet the trauma remains. They had babies, Rob. Lots and lots of babies.”
I press my lips together, trying not to laugh still, because taking sides in a Rob and Dana Darcy dispute is a losing game. “I don’t think I’m qualified to?—”
“You’re our son. You’re more than qualified,” Mom interrupts.
“That’s not how qualifications work,” Dad mutters, and I have to hold the phone away from my face for a second to collect myself.
The sound of the front door opening barely registers until Billie’s voice carries down the hall. “Hey, it’s just me. I—” She stops in the doorway, eyes flicking between me and the phone in my hand, clearly debating whether to stay or retreat.
“Who’s that?” Mom goes from combative to curious in zero-point-two seconds, her head tilting like she’s trying to see around me through the screen. “Peter, is someone there?”
“Yeah, Billie is here.” I say it casually, like it’s normal, because, to me, it is. She’s here. That’s a good thing.
But when I glance up at her, she looks like she’s been told there’s a pop quiz she didn’t study for. Her eyes go wide, and she takes a small step back, mouthing, “Your mom?” at me like I’m inviting her to rob a bank.
I wave her over, but she shakes her head, pressing into the doorframe as if she can meld into it.
“Billie! Oh, how lovely. Bring her here, Peter. I want to finally meet her.” Mom’s already adjusting her hair with one hand, as if Billie can see her.
“Mom, she’s not a puppy. I can’t justbring?—”
“Nonsense. Billie, sweetheart, come say hi,” Mom calls out loud enough that Billie would hear her from the driveway, let alone ten feet away.
Billie’s jaw tightens, and the internal war plays out across her face. She’s going to kill me later. I’m sure of it. But she puts one foot in front of the other, crossing the room slowly, like she’s approaching a bear in the wild, rather than a five-foot-four woman on a phone screen.
When she gets close enough, I angle the phone so my parents—because my dad is quietly observing, too—can see her, and she gives the smallest, most un-Billie wave I’ve ever seen. “Hi, Mrs.Darcy. Oh, and Mr. Darcy. Hi.” I run my hand across her back, setting it on her hip and squeezing lightly in the hopes she’ll relax a little. She doesn’t.
“Oh, call me Dana, please. Mrs. Darcy is my mother-in-law, and she’s a nightmare.” Dad snorts behind her, not bothering to deny it. “Now, Billie, settle something for us. If a garage door is left open and a husband swears it wasn’t him?—”
“Mom. No.”
“What? I’m asking for an outsider’s perspective.”
Billie’s body leans into mine as she chuckles. I squeeze her hip again, taking in the way she smiles brightly at my parents and their nonsense. “Do you have a security camera on the garage?” she asks, and the silence that follows is so loud, I can hear the clock ticking in my parents’ kitchen through the phone.
Mom blinks. Dad blinks. They look at each other.
“Weabsolutelydo,” Dad says slowly, a sly grin spreading across his face.
Mom’s expression shifts from confident to murderous in record time. “Robert, don’t you dare check that camera.”
“Oh, I’m checking it.”
“This conversation is over. Billie, it was so nice to meet you. I hope we can do this again in person when we come to visit. Peter, call me tomorrow. I love you. Bye!” The screen goes black before Dad can say another word, and Billie bursts out laughing beside me—a real, full laugh that fills every corner of the house with joy.
“So, it was definitely your mom,” she says, still grinning.
“Oh, without question.”
“They’re fun.” Her eyes sparkle as she turns to me, smile fading when her eyes lower to my mouth. “Hi,” she whispers before her lips meet mine in a hungry, desperate kiss.
