Young Lies (Young Series)

by Kimble, W. R.

  I think I’d much rather cancel our plans for the day, stay here, and take advantage of my half-naked boyfriend. And there’s a startling thought. Matthew and I haven’t actually discussed the status of our relationship, though I’m pretty sure he intends to keep me around for the long term; beyond that, I’m not sure how to define us. We’re no longer married, so I can’t refer to him as my husband, despite the strong urge I have to do so. Often. We haven’t even discussed the possibility of getting married again, so he’s not my fiancé. I suppose for now boyfriend will have to do.

  Blinking my way back to reality, I realize Matthew is staring at me expectantly and that I’ve yet to answer his question. “Um, sure,” I blurt. “Cape Cod is good.”

  He raises an eyebrow at me as though wondering whether I’m feeling well. “Okay, then,” he says quietly, nodding as he pulls on a blue tank top before reaching into his closet for a button-down shirt that matches it. “I’ll tell Danny to make the arrangements.”

  That settled, I quickly make my escape before I’m tempted to postpone our departure further and head down to Tyler’s room to finish getting him ready.

  -------------o-------------

  An hour later, we’re pulling up the driveway and my anxiety is returning.

  “You’re nervous.” The car is parked, the ignition is shut off, and Matthew has turned in his seat to look at me.

  “Why would you think that?” I mutter, surprised at the amount of sarcasm in my tone.

  He raises an eyebrow and smirks at me. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he tells me soothingly, reaching over for my hand. “All the attention will be on me. You and Ty can hide out the whole time with Claire and Danny if you want.”

  I consider his words for a moment. Despite this party being an annual fall event held my Matthew’s parents at their home, this year will be very different for no other reason than to celebrate Matthew being alive and able to attend. Expected to attend is family, family friends, work colleagues from both Matthew’s company and his father’s, and God only knows who else. It certainly isn’t the first time I’ve attended, but it’s been five years since the last time, the circumstances surprisingly similar, since that was held after Matthew was released from the hospital following the attack on his building. The problem now is that most people don’t even know I’m in the state again, let alone that Matthew and I are together again. I have no idea what people believe about why we broke up in the first place; though considering what I overheard Elizabeth and Holly telling Claire that night, I’m expecting a multitude of dark, suspicious looks.

  But when it comes down to it, there are only a handful of opinions I care about and most of them know the truth. The only exception is Matthew’s mother and she doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. She’s treated me like I never left at all and that is incredibly refreshing and comforting.

  When Matthew sighs, I look at him again, finding his eyes on his eyes on his parents’ front door where I can clearly see Matthew’s father stepping out onto the stairs, watching us. ”There’s Dad,” he says almost regretfully. “Time to go in.”

  Swallowing down my sudden wave of nausea only caused in part by the pregnancy, I nod. This will be the first time I’ve interacted with Paul Young since that incredibly disastrous afternoon in Matthew’s office. Time hasn’t diminished my dislike or disgust with him. I can only imagine the things he’ll say about me when he finds out I’m pregnant.

  Before I can even properly panic at the thought, Matthew is out of the car, lifting a hand in greeting towards his father and getting Tyler out of the backseat. As he does so, he shoots me an amused, pointed look as though silently asking if I plan on sitting in the car all afternoon.

  Tempting...

  I get out of the car anyway and relax slightly when I reach Matthew and he puts his arm around my shoulder as we walk up to meet his father at the door. Plastering a fake smile on my face, I don’t miss the look of disdain Mr. Young shoots me before summoning his own smile—his genuine—as he hugs his son and grandson. He nods curtly in greeting to me, causing Matthew to look between us, frowning. Apparently he’s forgotten the tension that has always been present between me and his father.

  Mr. Young leads us inside, telling Matthew that Elizabeth, Holly, their husbands and kids, and Claire, Danny, and theirs arrived shortly before we did, but the other guests should be here soon. In the kitchen, Diane Young is at the island counter beside Claire as they arrange a vast array hor d'oeuvres on trays and plates that range from pigs in a blanket and cheese and meats to caviar and shrimp.

  Looking at Diane, it’s easy to see where her daughters got their good looks. She’s Claire’s height and build, but with the blonde hair that graces the heads of Elizabeth and Holly. Her eyes are the exact color and shape as Matthew’s and are always shining with humor or mischief, depending on her mood. Though I’ve never seen it personally, those eyes apparently shoot fire when she’s angry and her sweet, kind disposition turns to that of a dragon. She is fiercely protective of her children and grandchildren, particularly Matthew, and while he vehemently denies it anytime the subject comes up, it’s common knowledge that he’s a mama’s boy.

  “About time you three got here,” Claire grumbles in feigned annoyance. “Now I have something else to distract me from food preparation.”

  Diane gives her a glare that’s half-hearted at best, wipes her hands on a towel, and walks around the counter to first pull me into a hug, kissing my cheek, then to greet Matthew and Tyler. Matthew lets Tyler slide to the floor to better return his mother’s embrace, and I see Claire at the counter smirking. She glances up at me and mouths mama’s boy. I bite my lips to hold back my laughter. “How are you feeling, Samantha?” Diane asks concernedly as she directs me to a bar stool at the island counter.

  For a brief moment, I think she’s referring to the pregnancy, but then realize she’s talking about my recent hospital stay. “Much better,” I tell her honestly. “I should have the cast removed in a week or two, but everything else has mostly healed.”

  “Well, you look great,” Claire tells me, looking back down at the fruit platter she’s working on. “I’d go so far as to say you’re glowing.”

  Matthew and I both shoot her glares and she smirks, turning away to the fridge. Claire knows damn well we’re not ready to tell the rest of the family about the pregnancy and I swear she does these things just to irritate her brother. Judging by the way his jaw muscles are twitching, she’s succeeding.

  “Matty, all the men are out back at the grill if you want to join them,” Diane says, gesturing vaguely at the backdoor. Matthew huffs a laugh, knowing a dismissal when he hears one, and bends down to press a kiss to my lips.

  “You’ll be all right?” he whispers in my ear.

  I smile at him reassuringly. “Of course,” I tell him, nudging him away. “Go play with the boys.”

  “Take Ty with you,” Claire instructs. “All the kids are back there now. And Sam is safe with me. I’ll take good care of her.”

  Matthew stops and gives his sister a doubtful look. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he mutters, ushering Tyler out to the yard.

  I have a brief view of the back deck, feeling my stomach churn at the sight of Matthew’s older sisters sitting at the table with drinks in their hands. Holly’s eyes dart to mine and narrow as Matthew obliviously shuts the door. Turning back to the counter, I find Claire watching me sympathetically. “They’ll be on their best behavior,” she assures me. “And if they’re not, they will be when I’m done with them.”

  With a smile of thanks, I help finish up the snack trays just as the doorbell rings, announcing the arrival of more guests. “Come on, let’s get outside before we’re relegated to greeting and schmoozing,” Claire says, shivering at the very thought of such behavior.

  Outside, I manage to ignore Elizabeth and Holly, and greet their husbands Mike and Joe, respectively. Unlike their wives, they’ve never had a negative look or word directed to
wards me, at least not as far as I know. And if they have, I’d rather not know about it.

  “Can I get you a beer, Sam?” Mike asks, walking over to the cooler to get one of his own.

  “Um, I’ll take water, actually,” I say quickly, flushing for some reason. With those few words, I’m convinced everyone knows my current condition, and I’m getting suspicious looks from Elizabeth and Holly.

  “She’s my designated driver tonight,” Matthew tells his brother-in-law smoothly, walking over to pull me into his arms.

  Mike shrugs and hands me a water, then Matthew another beer before being drawn into a discussion about sports with the other men. Right now it doesn’t matter that much of his family doesn’t like me; in fact, the only thing that matters is I’m in the arms of the man I love and he apparently has no intention of releasing me anytime soon. He occasionally places a kiss on my temple or gives me a tiny smile as though he’s reminding himself I’m not some figment of his imagination. I know how he feels; most of the time I have to go looking for him to remind myself of the same thing.

  As the guests make their way to the deck, Matthew is forced to release me to shake hands, kiss cheeks, give hugs, or whatever else his public demands of him. I slip away after the fourth or fifth person and head down into the yard where Claire is sitting on a bench, watching the kids.

  “Bet you haven’t missed this,” she says wryly, taking a sip of her cocktail. “Overcrowded parties all designed for ass kissing of some sort. Being forced to smile at people whose eyes you’d much rather gouge out. Not enough booze to keep up with the stupid conversations about whose kid is more of an overachiever.”

  I smile. “Well, not to brag, but Tyler’s a math whiz. Matt tried helping him with homework last night and gave up within half an hour, then spent the rest of the night grumbling about how easy school had seemed when he was Ty’s age.”

  Claire snorts a laugh. “Yeah? Abby made her very first mud pie and actually ate all the bugs.”

  I cringe, then laugh. “Not something to brag about, Claire,” I tell her.

  She only shrugs at me. “How’d the doctor appointment go the other day?” she asks quietly, wincing as Gabe and Tyler, who are apparently chasing each other around the swing set, run in opposite directions to catch one another, then crash into each other hard enough that we can hear the knocking of their skulls.

  “Better than I thought,” I tell her, watching to make sure our sons actually stand up again or whether we need to take them to the emergency room. They’re on their feet in seconds, resuming their game. I reach into my purse, glancing up at the deck where Matthew is still greeting people whose names he probably doesn’t even recognize, and slip the ultrasound picture to Claire.

  She takes it from me and examines it, smiling. “Aw,” she gushes quietly. “Adorable! Almost makes me want another one...” Simultaneously, we look up just in time to see Olly jump from the slide with a Tarzan yell onto Elizabeth and Mike’s fourteen-year-old son Dylan. I raise an eyebrow at Claire in question; she sighs, handing me the photo back with one last glance. “Or not...”

  -------------o-------------

  An hour into the party and I’m more than ready to grab Samantha and Tyler and go home. I don’t know how much more I can take of being told how it’s a miracle I’m here and how pleased people are to see me. Most of these people are from my father’s company, names I’ve only ever heard in passing. Other than kissing my dad’s ass, I have no idea why they care about my well-being. Every time I try to excuse myself to find Samantha, knowing how miserable these parties make her since she usually spends most of her time with Claire and a few other people who don’t look down on her, another person appears in front of me wanting to make meaningless small talk.

  Finally, as lunch is starting to be served, I have a clear shot to getting to her again. I grab a couple plates of food for us and Tyler and start to step off the deck. And I almost scream when I hear my name behind me.

  Turning, I force a polite expression onto my face until I see who is speaking. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me...

  “Matthew,” she says, smiling in a way that used to make me weak in the knees. “It’s good to see you.”

  I sigh, setting down the plates I’m carrying before I throw them at somebody. “Lucy,” I acknowledge curtly, knowing exactly why she’s been invited to this party. My father and sisters probably conspired this scenario to increase Samantha’s uneasiness of being here. It doesn’t really matter to me that technically she works for my father and has for the last six years or so. Our paths have crossed only a couple times since graduating college and every time, there’s been some attempt to reestablish our relationship. I’ve never been interested, and now I’m even less so with Samantha back in the picture, but that doesn’t seem to stop her. I have a feeling my dad spends a lot of time at work talking to her about me, encouraging such behavior, despite how often I’ve told him her advances are unwelcome.

  “I was very relieved to hear you weren’t hurt after that accident,” she says, smiling and closing a bit of the distance between us. “I was at your memorial, you know. I heard the news and I was devastated.”

  Yeah, I bet you were, I think darkly. Probably ran straight into the bed of the first guy who offered you a tissue... “I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell her. “But as you can see, I’m perfectly fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, my family is waiting for me.” I turn away with the intention of getting as far from Lucy as possible, but she blocks me, her eyes darting over my shoulder down at the yard.

  “Is that your son?” she asks. I automatically glance over to find Tyler running around the yard like a madman, grinning at the sight of him. “He looks just like you. He’ll be a heartbreaker by the time he’s in middle school.”

  “He’ll have gotten that from his mother,” I say pointedly.

  “Oh, right. Samantha...” Lucy’s eyes scan the backyard and I know she’s looking for Sam. This is the point at which I get overprotective of my family. “Is that her? Sitting with Claire?”

  “Yes,” I say shortly.

  Lucy’s eyes rise and lower quickly. “Isn’t she... lovely.” I don’t miss how her lip curls, belying her words. “Shame her staying power doesn’t seem very reliable.”

  In order to keep from embarrassing my parents in front of their guests, I’m taking several deep breaths rather than shouting and making a scene. This is bullshit coming from a woman who’d been screwing my college roommate under my nose for months. Then she tried to tell me it meant nothing to her. The night I left her I got word from a mutual friend that she and aforementioned roommate were out at a dance club grinding all over each other. “I’m only going to say this once,” I say quietly. “Stay away from my family. I don’t give a shit what my dad or my sisters tell you. There hasn’t been an us since we were in college and you fucked Rory. There will never be another us. And I get that you work for my dad and that you’ll be around, but that doesn’t make us friends and sure as fuck doesn’t mean we’ll be anything more.”

  Feeling smug, I turn away again, this time successfully getting the food and jogging down the stairs, glancing over my shoulder just long enough to confirm Lucy’s mouth is dropped open in shock at my words and probably a little hurt. Huh. She might actually have real, human feelings. Who knew...

  “Hungry?” I ask, dropping a plate in front of Samantha and smiling as I sit beside her.

  “Starving,” she confirms, her eyes wide as she eyes the burger and potato salad. “Who was that?”

  I blink at the casual question, knowing immediately she’s on guard. “Who was who?” I respond, hoping she’s talking about someone aside from Lucy.

  “The woman you were just arguing with.”

  Damn. Sighing, I turn to face Samantha fully. “Nobody you need to worry about,” I tell her honestly. “Having said that, it was Lucy.”

  Her entire body tenses and I know damn well why she’s reacting in this way. The entire time we were married, my
father and older sisters were constantly dropping her name, comparing her to Samantha, trying to slyly hint to me I would have been better off with her than my wife. More times than I can count, Samantha put on a smile throughout our visit at my parents’ house, but the moment we were alone in the car on the way home, the tears were flowing and my evenings were spent consoling her and telling her it didn’t matter what my family thought of her. I loved her and that’s what was important. I know those times took a toll on her, destroying in one fell swoop all the self-confidence she’d built up since leaving Iowa. And having Lucy here now the first time Samantha’s immersing herself with my family again after everything that we’ve been through... I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about what might come out of her mouth next.

  “Bitch,” she grumbled, shooting a glare at the deck before tucking into her lunch.

  I stare at her in shock for a moment, hardly believing what I just heard. The woman who, eight years ago, never would have said a negative word against anyone, let alone someone she’s never actually met, calling my ex-girlfriend a bitch, probably because of the way she treated me, amazes me. And I’m incredibly turned-on right now. “God, I love you,” I tell her, staring at her in awe.

  She smirks. “Damn right you do.”

  Laughing, I start my own meal and within minutes, Tyler is pushing his way in to sit between us, pulling his hot dog and chips towards him and telling us all about the games he’s been playing with his cousins. Listening to him, I bask in the thought that this is what life should be, this is what life is about, and for the first time in months, I don’t even lament in the fact that I lost five years with my family. It doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is the future and knowing after all this, nothing is going to tear me from them again. We’re going to get to know one another and grow, and damn the naysayers.

  What the hell do they know anyway?

  -------------o-------------