My Favorite Mistake

by R. L. Kenderson

  I chuckled. “She’s not answering for me either.”

  “Well, that girl…” Nora said with exasperation.

  “But, yes, she did stay last night. I did see her briefly, but then I fell back asleep. She left while I was out.” Simply left? Or did she sneak out?

  “You are such a nice boy to let my daughter sleep on your couch.”

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “I suppose you’re no longer a boy, are you? To me, part of you will always be the kid who came over to my house and snuck food out of my cupboards.”

  I laughed. “You always had the good stuff my mom wouldn’t buy.”

  “Since we’re talking about you eating my food, how would you like to come to dinner tomorrow night? We’re doing a small family celebration for Madeline’s birthday. It will just be Madeline, her dad, me, and my mother is coming.”

  “I’d love to come.”

  While George Campbell wasn’t a second dad like his wife was a second mom, I had always gotten along with him. He was more serious and reserved than Nora. But he was still the one who had helped me when I fell off my bike in elementary school. He had taken me into the house and cleaned up my knee and elbow with barely a word.

  Madeline’s grandma, Dotty, however, was fun. She was loud and told it like it was. She always made me laugh.

  Plus, I had a feeling that Madeline was avoiding me. I would give her today and tomorrow to realize that the two of us sleeping together wasn’t going to affect our friendship. But she couldn’t avoid me forever. Dinner with her family was perfect. They would give us a buffer, so she could see that our friendship hadn’t changed.

  “Wonderful,” Nora said. “Since my daughter is ignoring her mother, how would you like to decide what kind of cake I should make?”

  “My favorite is yellow cake with chocolate frosting.”

  “That’s right. I helped Madeline make you a cake for your birthday one year.”

  That had to have been back in high school. Maybe even middle school.

  “Chocolate frosting on yellow cake it is.”

  “Don’t forget to add thirty candles.”

  Nora laughed. “I think the smoke detectors might go off if I did that.”

  “You’re probably right. It would be fun to see her face though.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she said in that mom tone of voice that told me she would do everything she could to put thirty candles on Madeline’s birthday cake.

  My phone beeped in my ear.

  “Can you hold on a second?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I looked to see who had texted me. It was the birthday girl.

  Madeline: Sorry. I was in the shower when you called, and now, I’m heading into the grocery store. Why did you call? Did you need something?

  I put my phone back to my ear. “Madeline just sent me a text.”

  Nora scoffed. “Well, now, she’s definitely getting all thirty candles on her cake.”

  I laughed. “I’m sure she’ll call you back soon. She said she was going into a store.”

  “She’d better.” She sighed. “I will see you tomorrow evening then?”

  “Yep. What time should I be there?”

  “Can you be here by six?”

  “I sure can.” I could go over to my parents’ to visit before I went to the Campbells’ for dinner. I had better warn my mom I wasn’t eating there though.

  “Have a good rest of the weekend, Griffin.”

  “Thank you. You too.”

  I hung up with Nora and pulled up my text messages.

  Me: No. Nothing important. You left while I was sleeping, and I only wanted to make sure you were okay.

  * * *

  Madeline: Sorry about that.

  * * *

  Me: You weren’t sneaking out, were you?

  I wasn’t going to beat around the bush when it came to my best friend.

  Madeline: No!

  * * *

  Me: Okay, because you know that you don’t have to avoid me, right?

  * * *

  Madeline: I know that.

  * * *

  Me: Just checking.

  * * *

  Madeline: I have a few more errands to run, and then I’ll call you later. Sound good? Or did you have plans?

  She wished.

  Me: Work, but I should be able to answer my phone.

  * * *

  Madeline: Okay.

  * * *

  Me: Are you still planning to come by the bar later now that dinner with Harris was canceled?

  * * *

  Madeline: Sure.

  I’d believe that when I saw it.

  Me: Okay. Talk later then?

  * * *

  Madeline: Later.

  I finished my workout, showered, and made my way downstairs. One of my bartenders had already opened for me, and while it was busier than a weekday afternoon, the small crowd was nothing compared to weekend nights.

  I waved hello and said, “Come get me if you need any help.”

  The bartender nodded, and I went to my office.

  I’d had no idea owning a bar would involve so much paperwork, but it was still worth it and made me appreciate my finance and business degree. I had always known I wanted to start my own place and almost skipped out of going to college. But after some serious discussions with Madeline, I’d decided to go.

  Sure, my student loans were a pain to pay every month, but I wouldn’t have been ready to open a business at eighteen, and admittedly, I’d learned more at my six-month internship than I did in class. In the end, it was worth it.

  I spent the afternoon in my office and left when I heard the noise picking up outside my door.

  It wasn’t until I crawled into bed at three in the morning that I realized Madeline had never called me or stopped by.

  She was definitely avoiding me.

  Twelve

  Madeline

  Sunday night, I was running late to my birthday dinner with my parents. At the last minute, my mom had called and asked me to pick up rolls. I’d told her they weren’t needed, but she’d claimed that my father would complain if he didn’t have them.

  As I pulled up a little after six, I saw Griffin’s car in front of his parents’ house next door. I almost hit the gas and sped off, but I told myself I was being ridiculous. Griffin was my best friend. So what if we’d had sex? It wasn’t like the world was coming to an end. I just needed to face him again and get it over with to show myself that everything was normal.

  Not tonight though. I had dinner plans that I was overdue for.

  Or so I told myself.

  Realizing that I was being a chicken, I decided I would go to My Favorite Place tomorrow after work.

  Feeling good about my plan of action, I parked, got out of my car, and walked into my parents’ house. The first person I saw was my grandma Dotty.

  “Happy birthday,” she said as she held her arms out for a hug.

  “Hi, Grandma.” I squeezed her tight.

  She smelled like her favorite Chanel No. 5 perfume, like always.

  “It’s been too long, kid.”

  I released her and stepped back. “I know. I’m a horrible granddaughter.”

  “Not horrible, but you could do better.”

  I laughed. She didn’t pull any punches, my grandmother.

  I looked around. “Where is everyone?” I held up the grocery bag. “I brought the rolls my mother insisted that she needed.”

  “Your father’s in the living room, watching football, and your mother’s in the kitchen.”

  My parents’ house was old, and the front door opened to an entryway with the stairs to the top floor straight ahead. To the right was basically the rest of the house. A living room, dining room, and kitchen from front to back. Open concept it was not, but they had lived here my whole life and weren’t going anywhere soon.

  My grandma and I headed into the living room, where I saw my father
in his favorite chair, watching the football game.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  He glanced at me for a second. “Hi, peanut.” His attention was already back on the TV.

  “What kind of beer do you want?” a muffled but deep voice called from the kitchen.

  My father yelled back, “Miller Lite.”

  I wrinkled my nose in confusion. “Who’s here?” It’d almost sounded like—

  “One Miller Lite com—” Griffin grinned when he saw me. “Hey, Mads. You’re here.”

  My eyes widened, and my heart sped up. “Griffin. What are you doing here?”

  “Your mom invited me,” he said as he walked toward me. He handed my dad a beer and then sat on the couch, opening his own bottle.

  “When did you talk to my mom?”

  “Saturday,” he said, eyes on the television. “You’d know that if I saw you last night.”

  He was totally calling me on my shit.

  “Sorry. I ended up treating myself to takeout and a movie, and I fell asleep early.”

  A brow went up.

  “I swear.” I chuckled. “I guess I’m getting old now that I’m thirty.” Plus, someone had kept me up most of the night before that. I had been truly tired last night.

  “Sorry you were all alone.”

  “I was fine. Really. If I had been lonely, I would have stopped by the bar.”

  Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  He seemed to accept my response because he nodded and jerked his head toward the kitchen. “You’d better get those rolls in the kitchen. Your mom is starting to panic.”

  “Will do.”

  I spun slowly on my heel as I took in the first conversation Griffin and I’d had after we had lots and lots of sex.

  It was like nothing had changed. I didn’t know what I’d expected from him. Some sort of sexual innuendo or knowing glances, I supposed. But everything was the same as usual. He was the same Griffin as always.

  And as I headed in the direction of the kitchen, I felt foolish for freaking out about seeing my best friend again.

  “When are you going to hit that, Madeline?” Grandma Dotty asked.

  I stopped in my tracks. “Oh my God,” I said in shock.

  “If I were ten years younger, I’d be all over that boy like white on rice. He’s so polite and good-looking. Tall too.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I bet he’s—”

  “Grandma. Jeez.”

  She shrugged. “I’m only stating facts, kid. You’d better snatch that hunk up before someone else does.”

  Someone, please rescue me from this conversation.

  My mom poked her head out of the kitchen, and she smiled when she saw me. “You’re here.”

  I quickly ran to her and handed her the buns with a sigh of relief.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her face full of alarm now.

  “Your mother is a dirty old woman.”

  Mom laughed. “What else is new? Last time you visited, she told you about three dates she had been on in one week.”

  My grandfather had passed away ten years ago, and my grandmother was determined to find husband number two.

  “She told me that if she were ten years younger, she’d be on Griffin like white on rice,” I whispered. “Never mind that I don’t ever want to picture that in my head, but she’d still be twenty years older than him.”

  My mom laughed. “I don’t think that’s stopped your grandmother in the past.”

  “Gross.”

  Grandma walked into the kitchen. “What did I miss?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly.

  “Madeline’s worried you’re moving in on her man,” Mom said.

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “He’s not my man.”

  Grandma patted my arm. “Don’t worry, kid. He’s safe from me. He only has eyes for you.”

  I didn’t think he had eyes for me so much as he didn’t have eyes for anyone else in this house. Besides, I was the best friend. It was obvious he would look at me the most.

  “I think he’s just not ready to date you yet, Grandma.”

  She laughed. “Whatever you say, kid.”

  After my mother maintained that I wasn’t allowed to help her cook since it was my birthday dinner, she pushed me out of the kitchen, and I had nowhere else to go, except to sit down next to Griffin.

  I couldn’t help the flutter of nerves in my stomach, even after he had greeted me like usual, but I didn’t need to worry because neither he nor my father looked my way as I sat down on the couch.

  I tried to watch the game, but I wasn’t into football, and my eyes wandered to my best friend.

  He was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, obviously into the game. His large hands were wrapped around his beer bottle. I never really thought hands were that sexy before, but the memories of those hands touching me all over was making me hot.

  Literally and figuratively.

  I felt like someone had turned up the thermostat, and my nipples were hard while I got a tingle between my legs.

  I was just about to get up and insist my mom give me a job to do when Griffin swung his beer bottle away from him and over to me. He was still staring at the screen.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “You keep staring at my beer. I figured you wanted some since you hadn’t grabbed one for yourself.”

  I chuckled. No, I don’t want your beer. I want you.

  But I couldn’t tell him that.

  Instead, I took the bottle from him and downed a couple of sips before running the cold bottle over my forehead.

  “Dinner’s ready,” my mom yelled from the kitchen.

  “Great,” I said and pushed the bottle back to Griffin.

  His fingers brushed mine as he took his beer.

  I whimpered as I jumped up from my seat.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Just hungry.” I turned and headed for the table before he could tell I was lying.

  Thirteen

  Madeline

  My parents’ home only had two bathrooms, and since my father was occupying the main-floor one, I headed upstairs.

  I didn’t make it to the top floor much anymore since I’d moved out because there really was no reason to, so walking up the steps flooded me with memories of growing up there.

  After using the bathroom, I continued my journey to my old bedroom. It was still the same as when I had gone to college over a decade ago. My mom had said she didn’t need to use it for anything—they already had a guest room—so she left it as it was.

  I thumbed a couple of participation awards I had hung on the wall and a couple of old notebooks I had left on my desk. I sat down on my double bed, and I turned on the bedside lamp since the light over the stairs didn’t quite reach this far into my room.

  On the bottom shelf of my nightstand were some photo albums. I had forgotten they were there.

  I pulled out the thickest one and slowly opened it.

  I loved photo albums. They were work, but they had a magical quality that scrolling through one’s phone lacked.

  The photos started when I had been in middle school, but as I flipped through the pages, I also came upon high school pictures. I smiled at the image of me and Griffin on our first day as freshmen. I remembered being so nervous, worried I was going to get picked on or hazed, but Griffin stood with his arms crossed, casually leaning against the tree we were posing in front of.

  He had grown several inches the last few months of middle school and the summer after. His shoulders had broadened, and he had put on muscle. It wasn’t any wonder he hadn’t been worried. He’d looked like he was at least a junior.

  “What are you looking at?”

  I lifted my head to see Griffin standing in the doorway. “High school pics.”

  He walked over and flopped down onto the bed behind me. “I was worried you hadn’t come back because you were mad.”

  I spun my head to look over my shoulder and frowned. “Why would I be
mad?”

  “Because your mom put so many candles on your cake at my suggestion.”

  I had found it odd that my mother had insisted we all go outside for me to blow out the candles on my birthday cake even if it was a relatively warm and peaceful fall night. When I had seen the two number candles that spelled out thirty with thirty candles surrounding them, I’d understood why.

  I turned my head back around and chuckled. “No, I’m not mad. You might be trying to make me feel old, but I’m still the youngest in the house, so the joke’s on all of you.”

  “Touché.” Griffin put his hand on my side and squeezed. “I want to see too.”

  Enjoying his touch too much, I pivoted ninety degrees and leaned up against the headboard.

  When I had gotten my double-size bed, I remembered thinking it was so big compared to my twin. But seeing Griffin lying on it next to me, it was apparent that it was too small. Or maybe he was just that large.

  Griffin rolled toward me and leaned against my side.

  It wasn’t an unusual move and one I wouldn’t normally blink at, but after Friday night, I was much more aware of the big, handsome man beside me.

  He didn’t seem to be fazed by me at all though.

  He laughed and pointed to a picture. “What were we doing?”

  It was a photo of the two of us with a group of friends at school, but we were all wearing what looked like pajamas.

  “Homecoming week, I think. PJ Day.”