Page 59 of The Dating Charade

“Worn at my late husband’s funeral,” Edie clucked. “Suitable for all occasions.”

Sunny slapped Jett on the back, stopping him from even trying to move away. “Now did you hear that? The lady is offering you custom tailoring on a bona fide vintage suit. That’s not something to take lightly. How about you get up on that coffee table for some proper measurements?”

Sunny crossed his arms across his chest, blocking the door with a smile as wide as Texas. He was getting back at him for the twins washing Sunny’s toothbrush in the toilet without telling him—well, not telling until they were watching Sunny brush his teeth.

Jett was going to have to talk his way out of this, but the only thing he could think of was the truth. “The thing is, ladies, I don’t think there’s going to be a wedding anytime soon.”

“Oh, we know. We’ve already talked it over with Patsy.”

“Who’s Patsy?”

Donna frowned. “Why, your sweetheart, honey. You need to sit down? Have something to drink?”

“No. Thank you.” Jett shook his head. This was getting out of control.

“Anyway, it should take us a few weeks to get everything sewn up just right.”

“No. I mean, ever. There may never be a wedding. So you don’t need to worry about making a fuss.”

Donna started fanning a magazine. “Surely not. There’s not one fault she can find in you.”

“On the contrary—” Jett slammed his boot on Sunny’s toe and hip-checked him out of the way for the door. “—there are exactly three faults she can find with me. I’m just going to have to figure out how to tell her.”

“About the children?”

His hand paused on the handle, a gust of wind pressing against his tension on the door. He turned his head. “You know about the children?”

Donna Gene paused, then tapped a finger twice to her temple. “Jetty boy, you’d be surprised all the secrets the old lemon holds. That’s why you oughta sit on down and let old Edie and D take a hatchet to your problems.”

“Maybe some other time, ladies. Okay, then. Bye-bye.” He all but ran back to the truck, purposeful not to turn back as he heard Edie call after him. Sunny followed, snickering all the way.

In the safety of Medic 2–10, Sunny spoke. “Well, you’re fully justified now. I think you can go check for cameras.”

Sure, Sunny could laugh it off, Jett thought, but the question remained: how did they know? The twins and TJ had left the house once, maybe twice, in the last two weeks. Jett nodded. “Church. They must’ve seen me walking around with them at church.”

It had to be. He would just keep telling himself that until he believed it.

A minute, then two, rolled by in silence.

“What you said back there about three problems. You still thinking about keeping them?” Sunny asked.

Jett looked out the window. If anyone knew the harsh reality of his life right now, the day-in, day-out consequences of that question, it was Sunny. “I don’t know. But after I meet with Aunt Neena, I’ll have my answer. One way or another.”

* * *

“Drew, pick the macaroni up off the floor.”

Drew, sitting at the antique-white, farmhouse-style table, shoveled another scoopful of macaroni into his mouth.

Jett leaned forward from his chair opposite. “Drew. Pick up the macaroni.”

Several seconds went by. Jett gave a polite smile to his aunt, who smiled politely back.

Her husband coughed at the head of the table and set his fork down. “This tenderloin is delicious, honey.”

Aunt Neena, holding TJ awkwardly while his head kept falling forward, tried to pick up her fork for a bite of salad. It slipped off. “I’m so glad you like it.”

Jett leaned so far forward his white upholstered chair tipped up and his face came within inches of one of several tall candlesticks lighting their dinner of tenderloin, glazed asparagus, and Caesar salad—which had been, it should be noted, the original planned meal for the kids. That was before the twins gave their long, loud, and unending opinions on the matter. And before one of the gold-rimmed china plates shattered on the white shag rug.