“Should we have brought a present?” I asked Tiffany.
Cathy turned to me. “Don’t worry. I didn’t even know Charles had anything planned.”
He sat at the head of the rectangular table and wanted Lake by his side, so I took the chair next to Cathy, across from the girls.
“Champagne for the table,” he said as the hostess turned to leave.
“I’ll let your server know,” she said. “Does everyone have ID?”
“They’re twenty-one,” he said. “Just bring a bottle of your best.”
The hostess hesitated before walking away. “Yes, sir.”
Lake’s eyes twinkled. “Dad?”
“You’ll be an adult soon. One glass won’t kill you.” Charles leaned his elbows on the table, giving her his full attention. “You’ve earned it. I’m so . . .” He swallowed, as if holding back tears.
I glanced at Tiffany as she sank in her seat, fiddling with the corner of her cloth napkin.
Charles shook his head at the table. “I just need a moment to collect myself. I’ll be more articulate when we toast.”
Tiffany opened her menu with flourish. “Can we get anything, Daddy?” she asked.
“Anything you like, princess.” He put on a pair of glasses and, reading over the specials, said, “You should order the porterhouse, Manning. It’s unlike any you’ve ever had. I guarantee it.”
It was the most expensive steak on the menu. I’d never seen the man in such a good mood. In fact, I wasn’t sure he’d ever addressed me by my first name before. “That sounds great.”
Tiffany noticed, too. She ran her foot up the inside of my leg, waggling her eyebrows at me. “You want to get oysters, babe? I hear they’re an aphrodisiac.”
“Tiffany,” Cathy said under her breath. “Don’t say things like that at the dinner table.”
Lake focused on her menu, her cheeks reddening. Well, it’d been over two months since I’d gotten out. Lake had to suspect her sister and I were having sex. Maybe she was still the same wide-eyed girl I’d known, but she was definitely less naïve than she’d been when I’d left her. Hell, she’d been headed down that path the week we’d spent together at camp. She’d taken her top off in front of me. Lake knew about sex. Maybe she’d even come close with one of the boys at school.
I’d wring the motherfucker’s neck.
The unbidden thought made my necktie feel tight and the words and prices on my menu blur. I tugged my collar, downed some water, and took a breath. I had no right to think that way. None.
A server appeared with champagne and five glasses. “What are we celebrating?” he asked, popping the cork.
Charles gestured at Lake. “Tell him, honey.”
“It’s dumb,” she said. “I made honor roll. But so did, like, a hundred other students.”
“You are not like a hundred other students,” Charles said. He picked up his glass and stood, waiting until all our flutes were filled and raised. He turned to Lake. “I know I’ve pushed you. I know you’ve worked harder than your friends, read more books, gone the extra mile for the plus on the end of your ‘A’ when an ‘A’ alone would’ve sufficed.”
Charles swallowed, inhaling through his nose. His hand shook, and his eyes watered. “I’m so . . . so . . . ”
Tiffany pretended to read her menu but glanced up when her dad’s voice broke.
“Oh, honey,” Cathy said, reaching out to hold his hand.
He picked up the gift bag and passed it to Lake. “I’m so proud. And I knew you could do it.”
Lake looked confused, but it was then I realized this wasn’t about the Principal’s Honor Roll or even Student of the Month. She peeked in the bag, then up at her dad. Instantly, her eyes also watered. “Are you serious?”
He nodded. “Congratulations, sweetheart.”
Seeing Lake’s expression change from confusion to shock, my heart swelled. This was what I wanted for her. Everything. This was why I’d done the time, had kept my hands to myself, had watched from afar. So she wouldn’t lose sight of what was important. I had to clench my own jaw to keep from getting emotional.
Lake’s mom put her hands over her mouth. “Charles.”
“What is it?” Tiffany asked.
Lake’s hands trembled as she pulled a thick, white packet out of the bag. She turned it over, then held it up for us all to see. Proud of her as I was, in that moment, my eyes went to Tiffany. When she registered the USC logo on the packet, her expression remained smooth. I couldn’t read her. Tiffany might put on a show sometimes, but I knew she cared about Lake. That first and foremost, Lake was her sister. I didn’t believe she’d feel anything but pride watching Lake get everything she wanted, but the way her complexion paled, I wasn’t sure. Could Tiffany ever truly be happy for her sister, who’d now done everything their dad had ever expected of her? Or would Tiffany see this as something else?
Cathy stood and went around the table to pull a still-in-shock Lake into a tight hug. Her dad did the same. Tiffany slid the unopened packet over to her side of the table. “What if it’s a rejection?” she asked so only I could hear.
“You know it’s not.”
She tore one corner of the envelope right before I took it away. “Don’t spoil this.”
Tiffany’s eyes fixed on me as she sat back and crossed her arms. Maybe she thought I was the enemy, but I wasn’t. If Charles saw Tiffany with the envelope, he’d make a scene. I put it back in its rightful spot, in front of Lake.
Once they were all seated again, Lake ran a hand over the envelope.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” Charles asked.
She slid a finger under the flap and removed a sheet with a cardinal red-and-gold booklet. She read her acceptance letter as we all watched.
“So?” Charles asked after a few seconds of silence. “How does it feel to officially be a Trojan?”
“Good.”
“That’s it?” he pressed. “Good?”
Lake’s nostrils flared. A few silent tears tracked down her cheeks. Cathy had her hands clasped in front of her, looking as on edge as I felt. Lake’s body began to visibly shake as she covered her face and dissolved into sobs.
Cathy’s eyebrows drew together as she and Charles exchanged a glance. “What?” she mouthed.
“Overwhelmed,” he said softly.
I reacted physically, my throat thickening with a lump, my hands aching to hold Lake. Her crying sent my body mixed signals. I was the last person at the table who should comfort her, but maybe the only one who knew her well enough to understand her tears. Was she overwhelmed? Relieved? Yes. But the intensity with which she cried told me there was more to it than that. Maybe she didn’t want this after all. I’d tried to warn her, years ago, that she’d have to fight to be heard if she had any doubts about USC. Maybe she hadn’t really believed me, hadn’t realized that was true, until this moment.
When the silence at the table grew uncomfortable, Tiffany broke it. “She’s been under so much pressure, she can’t even enjoy this moment.”
Charles rubbed Lake’s back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Tiffany.”
“She’s right,” I said. I hadn’t planned to speak up, because goddamn it, Charles and I had started an evening off on the right foot for once. But Tiffany puckered her lips, blowing me a grateful air-kiss.
Charles glared at me a second, but then turned back to Lake. “She’s just overcome,” he said. “Isn’t that right, Lake?”
Lake nodded her head in her hands, inhaled a deep breath, and looked up. Her mascara painted her face like watercolor. “I’m sorry. I’m happy. I was just so worried it wouldn’t come.”
Tiffany got some tissue from her purse and passed it to her sister but didn’t say anything.
“Nobody doubted you,” Charles said.
Lake dabbed under her eyes. “I know.”
Cathy took Lake’s hand across the table. “How about we go shopping this weekend? Get you some college clothes?”
Lake’s eyes went wide at the same moment as Tiffany’s, in a way that made them look twin-like. Lake had been inspecting her champagne, but she put it down. “Really?” she asked.
“You’re buying her a car?” Tiffany asked. “Because I’m not giving her mine.”
“She’ll have to get around,” Charles said. “Not to mention come home to visit.”
Tiffany blinked a few times, looking shocked. I was about to point out that she’d gotten a car in high school, when I noticed her look at Lake and tear up. It was as if it’d only just occurred to Tiffany that Lake wouldn’t be around next year.
Lake started to put the brochure away, but Charles took it from her. “I can’t wait to see which dorm you’re in,” he said, flipping through it. “We probably won’t find out until closer to mid-summer—”
“Oh, we’ll get to shop for your room,” Cathy said. “Start thinking about what colors you want to decorate with.”
“It’s a dorm,” Charles said, looking at her over his glasses. “She’ll have approximately two-hundred square feet to work with.”
“Maybe we’ll do a beachy theme so she doesn’t get homesick.”
Tiffany’s mouth fell open. “We were going to do a beachy theme. You can’t copy us.”
Charles turned a page. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Tiffany was already pouting, and we still had a long night of USC-talk ahead of us. As much as I soaked up all the details of Lake’s life, I didn’t blame Tiffany for her frustration. It was always what Lake was doing, what she was getting, where she was headed. “Tiffany has an announcement, too,” I said.
She looked up at me. “What?”
“About work.” I nodded her on.
Cathy put down her glass and turned to Tiffany. “Did you get a call-back to model for that sunglass company? The one that needed a pretty blonde?”
Tiffany’s face reddened. Shit. Maybe I’d just embarrassed her, and not in the good way I’d intended. “Better,” I said, trying to show Tiffany that her achievements at Nordstrom were worth more than getting a job based on looks. “She’s one of the top salespeople in her store.”
Charles placed an elbow on the table and continued paging through the brochure.
Cathy’s face lit up. “Really? Was there some kind of announcement?”
“Wow,” Lake said. “Your department or the whole store?”
“Not the store,” Tiffany muttered. “Just my section.”
“It’s still a lot of people, right?” Lake asked.
I cleared my throat, raising my voice. “Charles.”
He looked up. “Hmm?”
“Tiffany’s got news.”
“It’s nothing,” Tiffany said. “I’m doing well at work. The real news is that I’m thinking about going to school.”
I did a double take. I wished she’d think before blurting out things like that to get her dad’s attention. When she didn’t follow through, it just made things worse.
“And?” he asked.
“Charles,” Cathy said.
“What?” He gestured at Tiffany but spoke to his wife. “She’s been saying that for years.”
“I’m serious this time. I don’t want to get passed up for my next promotion. I don’t want to be a salesperson forever.”
“Good, I should hope not,” Charles said. “Look into it and I’ll do what I can to help.” He showed Lake the catalogue. “Look at Tommy Trojan.”
“I know, Dad,” Lake said. “I’ve seen the statue in person.”
It wasn’t as if I’d expected Charles to order a second bottle or anything, but that wasn’t good enough. “You can help now,” I told him, “by listening to what your daughter has to say.”
He lifted his head finally. The table went quiet, and even Lake’s sniffling stopped. I half expected Charles to stand up and throw me out by the scruff of my neck. This wasn’t my family; I had no place speaking up. But he’d put enough negative pressure on both girls for too long, and clearly Cathy wasn’t going to stop it.
The fact that I cared enough for both girls to attempt to stand up to Charles made me realize maybe I was wrong. Maybe this was my family, in a weird way—and maybe I even wanted it to be.
Charles’ gaze slid from me to Tiffany. “All right. Do you have a school picked out?”
“I think so.”
“Bring the course catalogue next time we have dinner.” He sniffed. “We’ll take a look at it together.”
In the car on the way home, Tiffany looked out the window. “If I hear about USC one more time, I’m going to lose it.”
“Things’ll calm down now. This is what they’ve been working toward for years.” I rolled down my window to let some fresh air in. I’d never get enough of that as long as I lived. “I thought you’d be happy after the way I put your dad in his place.”
“It was kind of great.” I heard the smile in her voice. She turned back to me. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m PMS’ing.”
Already, the tension in the car lifted. She sounded lighter. Tiffany just wanted to be reminded that someone cared. Someone noticed. Sometimes I forgot to show it, went days without doing anything special for her. I needed to try harder.
I hit the brakes and swerved into a left turn lane.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Get you some ice cream.”
“Really?” She beamed. “But we had dessert at the restaurant.”
“That crème brûlée shit doesn’t cut it.” She liked mint chocolate chip when she was on her period, cookies ’n’ cream when she had cramps. “I’m thinking cookies ’n’ cream.”
“You’re such a good boyfriend,” she said. “I love you.”
Knowing what she needed so I could make sure she was happy and comfortable—that was a form of loving her. It shouldn’t be overlooked or undermined.
“You want to know what I whispered to Lake earlier?”
She asked it the same way a parent might offer a kid a cookie for completing a chore, which made me cautious. “All right . . .”
“She got something in the mail at the apartment today. She didn’t want Dad to know about it, so she used our address.”
“What was it?”
“An acceptance packet.”
I knew from dinner conversation that Lake had only applied to one school. The fact that I might be wrong, that there were important things I didn’t know about Lake’s life, made my throat constrict. “You mean like the USC one?”
“Yep. Only not USC. A different school.”
The lights blurred through the windshield. So Lake was taking her future into her own hands. That was good. It was what I wanted for her. But at the same time, mentally, I’d already placed her in Los Angeles. She’d be a two-hour drive away, a Trojan, and she’d remain a California girl. I didn’t have much in my life that felt pure and good, not like Lake. I didn’t want her any farther from my reach than she already was, but I’d also promised myself I’d let her soar.
“Where else did she apply?” I asked.
“Somewhere far away,” was all she said.
14
Lake
I went to the living room window to look into the front yard for the third time in an hour.
“Don’t worry,” Mom said, appearing behind me. She drew my mass of curls off my neck, settling them on my back. “He’ll be more nervous than you.”
I stared forward, wringing my hands. I wasn’t on edge about Corbin. Maybe I should’ve been. He’d taken a weekend off from studying for finals to fly home and take me to the prom. I hadn’t asked him to, but when he’d found out I wasn’t going to go, he’d insisted. I hadn’t fought him as hard as I should’ve, because spending time with Corbin was always good, and truth be told, I missed him.
But it was Manning who had my nerves buzzing. I wanted him to
think I looked pretty. To wish he was by my side the way I did. To break things off with Tiffany and take me in his arms, to hell with everyone else. I’d be eighteen in just over a month. It wasn’t that I thought we’d be together right away. Tiffany would need time to forget about Manning, but she would. She always did.
“I want you to be careful tonight,” Mom said. “Corbin’s been in college almost a year now. He has more experience than the boys you know.”
I made a face. “It’s not like that, Mom.”
She cocked her head. “It isn’t?”
“He’s just a friend.”
“Does he know that?”
“Totally.” We’d kissed that one time on the couch, but he’d never brought it up or tried again. I mean, I didn’t see him a lot, just during his breaks from NYU, but we spoke on the phone all the time, and Corbin even told me about the girls he was dating. “He’s just coming because he didn’t want me to miss tonight.”
Mom fixed my hair, plucking at some curls. “That’s sweet of him. I still don’t understand why you didn’t have a date, but I’m glad Corbin is such a gentleman.”
I’d been asked, but I’d turned everyone down. They were children compared to Manning, the only one I wanted. In size, he dwarfed them, but it was more than that. He carried himself differently. He looked at me like he owned part of my soul. The confidence that came through when he spoke, the ways he used his hands. I shivered as goosebumps traveled up my spine.
“Mom,” Tiffany said on her way out of the kitchen. “You’ll mess it up. You don’t understand how easy it is to lose volume.”
Mom stepped aside to give Tiffany access to my hair. “It looks beautiful, Tiffany.”
Tiffany checked the bobby pins. She’d spent over an hour drying and curling my long hair, then pinning half of it up. She’d hairsprayed the rest of the curls, but somehow, they were soft and bouncy on my shoulders. I hadn’t asked her to do all that, but I had to agree with Mom—it looked beautiful.
Tiffany turned me around by my shoulders. Eyebrows drawn, she scanned every inch of my face as if she’d be tested on it later. “You already smudged your liner. Don’t touch your eyes. Don’t cry. Your mascara’s waterproof but your eyeliner isn’t.”
Something in the Way: A Forbidden Love Saga: The Complete Collection Page 41