Page 157 of Forever Defiant
“Shut up.” Dustin smacked her across the back of the head. “Just because you’re an ugly duckling.”
“Mom!”
I blinked against the noise level. Dustin leaned into me. “You look like you owe me an apology,” he said smugly.
“You could have mentioned she was your sister,” I hissed back.
“Why?” He leaned back with a wink. “You can make it up to me, Peterson.”
When we turned back, his family was watching us.
“What?” Dustin said, leaning over and taking a drink from his dad’s glass. “You look like you’ve never seen a girl before.”
“We’ve never seen you with awomanbefore,” Naya corrected. “Not a sober one anyway.” She turned to me. “Blink twice if you need help.”
I did.
Everyone laughed, even their mom. I could do this. I could fake my way through a family lunch. Even if every second more I spent with him, I wasn’t sure I was faking anymore.
“Do you need help, Mrs. Slater?” I offered.
“My wife’s name is Jemima. Mrs. Slater is my mother, God rest her soul.”
I waited. There was no way on this green earth that I was calling her Jemima unless she told me to.
She read me like a book. I saw the gleam in her eye; whatever test she set for me, I must have passed it. “You can call me Jem, Hadley.”
I needed a drink. “Ma’am.” I took my coat off and handed it to Dustin. “Can I help?”
“You can.”
Damn it.
Dustin took a seat on a barstool, his little sister draped over him, as she told him all about the drama at her school and how her boyfriend was a giant dick. Their dad offered his opinion of whether her boyfriend was worth the trouble, and I slowly migrated over to his mom as I witnessed the openness of their family.
“You look surprised,” she murmured, handing me an apron.
“I...” I had nothing. “I’m not used to, um—”
“Communication?” she guessed. “You have brothers or sisters?”
I shook my head. “Just me.”
“Parents?”
“Happily married schoolteachers.”
“Still together.” She started to peel carrots, and I picked up a knife and helped.
“Every second of the day.”
She gave me a small knowing smile. “Ah.” She looked over at Dustin, who was laughing at something his sister said. “Does he make you happy?”
“So far? Yes, he does.”
I didn’t even have to lie. I hadn’t planned to say it that way; it came out true before I could pretend to myself it was part of the performance.
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