Third Wheel (Elton Hall Chronicles Book 3)

by Sarah Fischer

  “Then why are you questioning me?”

  “Because…” He stopped talking and paced a little.

  “Because why?”

  “I just don’t like him. His smug face irritates me.”

  “Well, that’s ridiculous.”

  “Whatever, let’s just get back in the car and head to dinner. It’s going to be a long night if we’re late.”

  “No, I need to know why you’re questioning me.” I had to resist the urge to stomp my foot like a child.

  “This is not the time to have this conversation. It’s cold and we’re on the side of the road.”

  “It’s not like I asked for this fight. Tell me.”

  Shane stuffed his hands in his pockets and started kicking some of the rocks. His shoulders dropped and he wouldn’t look at me. But he took a deep breath and finally started talking. “I know it’s been a few weeks, and some people may think it’s too soon, and I’m not sure if I’ve ever even felt this way before, but I think there is a chance I could be falling in love with you.” He looked up at me, his lip quivering slightly, but his eyes grew wide and soft. He looked so hopeful.

  I smiled and rushed over to him, sliding my arms around his waist. I felt a huge weight lifting off my chest as his body warmth filled me up. “I think I may be falling in love with you too.”

  Shane grabbed my face and pulled me toward him, kissing me with such force that I had to grip tighter to him to keep from falling over, but I didn’t care. Standing on the side of the road, grasping onto this man, I’d never felt more at peace.

  “Are you happy now? I had this big, beautiful moment planned when I’d tell you, but you just couldn’t wait.”

  “I don’t like waiting.” I kissed him softy, almost afraid to let go. He knew the real me and he loved me. Shane saw through all my bullshit and still thought I was worth it.

  “That’s for damn sure.”

  “But I need this jealous thing to stop. I can’t keep this up. I’m not with Rob, I’m not with that guy from my statistics class. I’m not with anyone else, and that’s my choice.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Well then, let’s get in the car and head to dinner. If I run every red light, we just might make it on time.”

  “So you’ll drive like you normally do.”

  He opened the car door for me.

  Chapter 17

  We pulled up to a beautiful stone building with the most immaculate yard that I’ve ever seen. The front of the house had two beautiful bay windows on either side of the front door. On one side was a gorgeous glass sunroom and the other side was a giant garage with four parking spaces. Shane pulled up to one but didn’t drive the car all the way in.

  “My mom will kill me if I walk you through the garage. I need to take you to the front door. That’s where her elaborate foyer is with the expensive paintings she likes to talk about. My mom is all about impressing people when they come in. Remember when I told you about the apartment, and how they keep it to show their friends how successful they are? Their house is even crazier.”

  “I will make sure to drop lots of compliments and oohh and ahhh.”

  “No, don’t do that,” Shane said a little loudly as he got out of the car. He walked around to my side and opened the door. “Um, she’ll know that I told you that. Don’t mention the art. Just stare at it a little too long and linger on the vase that’s on the table across from the door. Also, if they offer you anything, accept it with both hands. Don’t hold out just one.”

  “Got it.” I fixed my skirt and brushed at my hair a little. “Do I look okay?”

  Shane smiled down at me. “You’re beautiful.”

  I took a deep breath and we walked up to the double doors with dramatic and elaborate leafed door knobs. Shane knocked and I looked over at him confused.

  “Did you just knock to enter your house?”

  “It’s a sign of respect.”

  I nodded my head and made a mental note of that.

  The door opened, and standing across from me was a beautiful woman. She gave me a somewhat forced smile and welcomed us in. Her black hair fell just above her shoulders, her skin was clear of wrinkles, freckles, and blemishes, and her eyes were hidden behind designer eyeglass frames. Mrs. Choi stood an inch or two shorter than me, but she was wearing high heels. They were a little higher than my black ones, so we were eye to eye. Her frame was small and slender, but when she closed the giant door, I saw some muscle definition in her arms. Legitimately, I was more in awe of her than the amazing Italian painting hanging on the wall.

  “It is so nice to meet you Mrs. Choi,” I said, snapping out of it. I extended my hand to her and she took it gently, barely holding on.

  “You too, Christie.”

  I made a big to do about turning to look at the painting. It was a real canvas. Not a copy on a poster or a sheet of paper. After all my mother’s comments about art, I finally listened and I appreciated Mrs. Choi more because of the authenticity of it. Go figure.

  “Do you like art?” Mrs. Choi asked me, coming to stand at my side.

  “Yes, I love art. My mom loves painting, so for my high school graduation, we took a trip to Italy and just stared at art. It was an amazing two weeks.”

  “That sounds lovely. If I ever had time off from my practice, I’d love to do something similar.”

  “Oh, you’re a doctor too? I’m sorry, I met Mr. Choi when my friend was in a car accident. He looked over her charts.”

  “Your friend was lucky then. My husband is a very good doctor.”

  “Yes, I noticed that. What do you practice?”

  “I am a pediatrician.”

  “I love children,” I responded, smiling at her, and then I realized that may have sounded wrong. “But obviously I’m not ready for them. I just mean that I want to get my career sorted out first and get married, then have a baby. But not that my career would be more important than a family because, obviously, family is important to me. Not that I would give up my career to be a mom. Well, I might. I actually haven’t decided what I would do since I’m nowhere near that point. Not that…”

  “Okay, Christie. I’m just going to stop you there. I think we get the point. Why don’t you give my mom the cookies?” Shane cut in.

  “Yes, here. My mother made some cookies and we thought you’d like some.”

  She took the tin and then put the forced smile back on when she thanked me.

  “I have something for you too.” She turned around and handed me a box with an elaborate bow and immaculate wrappings.

  “Thank you.” I opened the box and saw a set of slippers. They were grey with little bows on the top and were soft to touch. I looked up at her, offering a smile.

  “We don’t believe in anyone going barefoot around the house, but shoes track dirt and things in the house, so we usually wear a set of house shoes. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to trade the ones you’re wearing for these.”

  “Yeah, no problem. They are lovely and probably more comfortable than my heels.” I leaned awkwardly against the wall and took my shoes off. Shane took them and put them on the shoe rack near the door. I put the slippers on and instantly decided I should adopt this tradition to my life. The slippers were crazy comfortable and warm.

  “Where’s Dad?” Shane asked.

  “He is just changing. His shift went a little long at the hospital. Why don’t you take Christie to the dining room to have a seat and you can help me bring the food to the dining room.” Mrs. Choi then turned around and started walking toward what I assumed was the kitchen.

  “Oh, I don’t mind helping you, Mrs. Choi.”

  She whipped around as if I had called her a nasty name. “No, you cannot help me, Christie. You’re a guest. Please, just have a seat and we’ll be in there in a minute.” She then walked out of the room so fast I thought she might have super powers.

  “Sorry about that,” Shane said softly. “She is a little harsh sometimes
, but she’ll warm up to you.” He gave me a weak smile and then placed a hand on the small of my back to guide me into the dining room.

  It actually looked a lot like my mom’s. The table could comfortably sit twelve, but some of the chairs had been pulled back against the wall. Now there were only four at the table. Shane pulled one out for me and then helped me scoot it back into the table. It was heavy oak with beautiful red cushions and an elaborate leaf design on the backrest. The table, I assumed, was oak to match, but it was covered with a red tablecloth that had elegant flowers embroidered on top. There were also two elaborate candlesticks that could have been used as heavy weapons, ornate crystal water goblets, and glass bowls awaiting the food that Mrs. Choi was bringing in.

  The walls held even more elaborate art. I know there were a lot of people who were fans of modern art, but it seemed like Mrs. Choi and I actually had something in common. We liked the classics. The dramatic paintings depicting people with draped cloths and lavish chalices. I was so busy staring at the art that I realized I never noticed the vase. I cursed under my breath.

  “Excuse me, you must be Christie,” a voice said from the door of the dining room.

  I looked over and saw an older version of Shane. They looked exactly the same. I smiled, and moved to get up, but he shook his head.

  “No, it’s all right. Stay seated. I’m sure my wife will be here momentarily with the food and we cannot let that get cold.” Mr. Choi walked over to me and shook my hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Christie. How is your friend doing?”

  “She’s doing well. I haven’t seen her have any problems since she left the hospital.”

  “Fantastic. I’m glad to hear that.” He smiled at me and then looked toward the door.

  Sure enough, Shane and his mother entered with more than enough food. There was a bowl with noodles in one of Shane’s hands, and in the other was a platter of meat. His mother held a giant bowl of vegetables, and a lazy Susan of condiments. They were placed around the table, and Shane took the seat opposite me, while his mother sat opposite her husband, at the head of the table.

  “I hope you like Japchae,” Mrs. Choi said with a smile but it sounded more like a challenge.

  “I don’t actually know what it is, but everything here looks delicious. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

  “This recipe has been passed down my family for generations. The only thing we changed is that sometimes we use this as a side dish, but Shane likes it so much that we like to have it as our main entree. These are sweet potato noodles, so they are good for you,” Mrs. Choi insisted and asked for my plate.

  I handed it to her and she piled on the food. There was no way I’d be able to eat it all, but there was even less of a chance I’d let her think she won.

  After the third slice of beef, Shane spoke up, thankfully saving me from what would be a food coma. At least there were two doctors here. “Mom, I think Christie has enough food. I’d like to eat some of this too. It’s been forever since you’ve made Japchae.”

  “Well, if you came home more often, then maybe I’d feel better about making it for you.”

  “I’m sorry, school is crazy. But I’m keeping up.”

  “What do you mean ‘keeping up’? We have that apartment so that you don’t have to worry about anything other than school. Are you playing games with that car again?”

  “No, I was just being modest. No problems,” Shane tried to assure her, but she opened her mouth to speak again.

  “So, Christie,” Mr. Choi chimed in, changing the topic. “What are you studying?”

  “I’m getting my degree in business, hopefully with a concentration in statistics and marketing.”

  “That’s interesting,” he replied.

  “Yes, she’s up for this big internship with one of the professors. She’s been working on it for weeks. I’ve seen her work, it’s brilliant,” Shane told them, grinning at me with pride.

  “Good luck with that,” Mr. Choi said, smiling at me too.

  The only one not smiling was Mrs. Choi. She was watching me eat, and I realized I never said anything about the food.

  “This is amazing. I really like the seasoning and the sesame seeds. Thank you for making it, Mrs. Choi. I’d love to see the recipe one day.” I grabbed another fork full and took a big, but polite, bite.

  “I don’t just give out this recipe. Maybe I’ll give you something for chicken wings.”

  Shane dropped his fork on his plate and the loud clang made me jump. He immediately started shouting at his mother in Korean. They started arguing back and forth. I looked over at Shane’s father, and he gave me a weak smile. Then he jumped into the fight too, but he was louder and more commanding than the other two.

  They stopped fighting immediately, and Shane looked over at me. His fury was obvious and my heart hurt a bit for him.

  “I love chicken wings. I’m sure the recipe would be good,” I said, hoping to ease the tension that was now palpable.

  “That’s because you aren’t Korean,” Shane told me. “There is an old custom about a woman making her man chicken wings. They settle in his stomach and then he grows wings and leaves her. So if someone makes her boyfriend or husband chicken wings, she’s basically trying to break up with him, or at least try to get him to leave. It’s bad luck.”

  “Oh, got it,” I murmured, looking down at my plate, suddenly embarrassed. Maybe I should have looked up some Korean customs or done some more research. I should have learned some of the traditions, and then maybe I wouldn’t be making such an ass out of myself.

  “Mom said that because she doesn’t want us together.”

  My head shot up and I looked over at her. “Why? Have I done something wrong?” My heart broke a little. If his mother didn’t approve, would that affect Shane? He may have disagreed with her, but it was obvious he respected her.

  “There is nothing you can do. There are just some things you can’t help,” she responded with pity, as if she was apologizing for it.

  “Like what? What problems do you have with me already?” My face was beginning to burn as my frustration leaked out. There was no point in being polite anymore. I knew why she didn’t like me, and it was the same reason my mother didn’t like Shane. “Is it because I’m not Korean?”

  “Well, that is part of it. How can we expect our customs to be passed down if you don’t know them?”

  “I can learn,” I told her with as much authority as I could muster. “I respect you and your culture enough to take the time to learn all of these things. Shane can help me, and I’d hope you would too. But we aren’t getting married now.”

  “Then what is the point of dating, if not to try to find the person you want to be with?” she asked me, her voice raising in both volume and octave.

  “One day, we might, but I think it’s too early to make that decision,” I reminded her.

  “All right then, but I’m sure you’ve noticed that we have money. Aren’t you the least bit excited about that? I knew that one day we’d have to chase away the gold diggers.”

  “Mom,” Shane growled under his breath.

  “No, it’s okay. It’s a legitimate concern,” I said to him, and then turned to her. “I have money too. Not this much, but my family is very comfortable.” I raised my head, trying to keep my pride. I wasn’t a gold digger and I knew that. She was trying to get under my skin, but I put on my best face. She wasn’t going to win this war.

  “Right, so you’d want someone from a similar background to keep you in that lifestyle,” she commented, folding her hands in front of her.

  I fought the instinct to tell her to get her elbows off the table, but I figured that certainly wouldn’t help. “And if that was what I wanted, then I’d already have it. My ex-boyfriend offered me that. His family has lots of money, and he is set to be a successful officer in the military. He wanted us to get married in June when he graduated from military school. I left him for that reason. I am in no rush to get married or anything
like that, but if that was all I was after, then I’d already have it. Actually, my family is really upset I’m not going through with it. They’re all friends, so it was the perfect match. But at the end of the day, I wasn’t happy. Your son, your son makes me happy.”

  “That’s brave of you to stand up for yourself,” she said quietly, making eye contact with me and holding onto it for a moment. I couldn’t tell what she wanted. Maybe she was sizing me up, or maybe she was trying to figure out if I was lying. Whatever she thought, it must have appeased her for now. She gave me a little smile and then she started to eat her food.

  I looked over at Shane, and he nodded at me. I didn’t know if she liked me yet, but at the very least, she wasn’t glaring at me anymore. I took a deep breath, picked my fork up, and continued to eat my food. It really was delicious, but they used way too much salt.

  Chapter 18

  “All right, you need to call the doctor back.” I was holding the phone up with Violet on the video call, while Annabelle sat on her bed, barely moving.

  Her doctor called her with the results, but he wouldn’t leave a message on the phone.

  “Okay,” she finally said and picked up her phone.

  “Wait,” Violet yelled from the phone. “Jason should be here. If you’re pregnant, he definitely should be the first one to know.”

  “Yeah,” Annabelle agreed in a bit of a trance. She sent him a text and we all sat there in silence.

  “So, Violet, how is Berneli’s job search?” I was hoping to end this ridiculous silence and maybe distract us for a while.

  “Ugh! I don’t even want to talk about it.”

  “Okay, then,” I responded gently.

  We were all quiet again for a few seconds until Violet started freaking out.

  “All right, I just have to get it off my chest. The college doesn’t want David leaving just yet, and he’s not sure he wants to leave. On top of that, David can’t get a visa until he gets a job. They have to sponsor it. It’s a mess.”

  “So he isn’t coming?” Annabelle asked her, taking the phone from me.