by Jamie Canosa
Twelve
“Come to my house.”
“I’m sorry?” Clearly I was having auditory hallucinations. Kiernan Parks did not just invite me over to his house. Did he?
“For dinner.”
Holy crap, I think maybe he did. “Your house?”
“Ya know, the place with the walls, and floor, and roof, where I sleep at night, and live with my family?”
Ask a stupid question . . . “Umm . . .”
“I already called my mom. She said it’s fine. The woman cooks enough to feed an army, anyway.”
Kiernan was inviting me over for dinner? Dinner with his mother? “I . . . um . . . I’m not sure—”
“Don’t say no. Just come. Please? I want you to.”
I want to make sure you’re not alone with a bottle of pills and a bottle of booze again. I want to get a good night’s sleep without being woken up by a hysterical girl with deep seated emotional issues. I want—
“Please stop thinking. Just listen to what I’m saying.”
“I heard you.”
“Yeah, but hearing me and listening to me are two entirely different things. Turn off that brain of yours and just listen. I want you to come over. I want you to meet my family. I want you to eat dinner with us. Because I want those things. Stop looking for hidden meanings where there are none. I enjoy your company and I want more of it. Is that so hard to believe?” If I didn’t know better, I’d have sworn Kiernan looked sad. “Please say you’ll come.”
I didn’t understand it, but I would have said anything to make that look go away. “Okay.”
And it did, morphing into a ridiculous grin that did funny things to my stomach. “Really?”
I shook my head, fighting back a grin of my own. “Why do you always look so surprised when I agree to something?”
“I don’t know. I guess I always assume you’re going to put up more of a fight than you do.” Kiernan shrugged. “I had this whole argument rehearsed in my head.”
“So I wouldn’t have won no matter what I said?”
“I already told my mom to set the table for four tonight.” He winked at me and it suddenly felt like all the air had been sucked from the building.
“Four?” It came out more breathless than I would have liked.
“Me, you, my mom, and my brother.”
“Oh. What about your dad?”
Kiernan scowled. “He’s not around anymore. Couldn’t handle . . . shit.”
“Oh.” It struck me then just how little I really knew about Kiernan despite the fact that I felt like I’d known him my entire life. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He smiled again, but I could still see the strain in his eyes. “We’re better off without him. Six o’clock good? I can pick you up.”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
***
“Arrrgggghhh!” I collapsed on my bed and pulled a pillow over my face.
Kiernan was coming to pick me up in twenty minutes and I was in the middle of a complete wardrobe meltdown. What exactly did one wear to meet their boy who’s a friend/lifelong obsession’s family? What did they wear to dinner? Judging by the motorcycle he drove, and the designer clothes he was always wearing—not to mention the Beemer—they had money. But he never flaunted the fact. So hopefully not formalwear.
Were jeans too casual? Should I wear the one dress I actually owned, or would that make me look like I was trying too hard? He was just a friend, after all. Good Lord, this was impossible!
A skirt. I tossed the pillow aside, bolting upright. A skirt was an acceptable compromise. Halfway between pants and dress, it could go either way. I didn’t actually own any skirts, but mom had a black one she’d gotten for a funeral last year. We were about the same size and I’d never seen her wear it besides that once, so I figured she wouldn’t miss it for one night.
Good thing she’d made a beer run because it took some hunting to find the thing stuffed in the back of her closet. I didn’t have time to iron it—not that we actually owned an iron or I had any idea how to use one—so I shook it out and hoped for the best. Thanks to the polyester material, it didn’t look half bad.
With ten minutes to spare, I still needed a shirt to go with it. The minimal timeframe kept me from stressing about it too long before deciding on a peach three-quarter sleeve that I thought walked the line between casual and formal nicely, as well, but what did I know?
I had no sooner tied my hair up in a messy bun then there was a knock at the door.
“Hey. You look . . .” The pre-made, plastic, mandatory greeting cut short when he stopped to take an actual look at me. “Beautiful. Wow. You look beautiful.”
“Don’t look so surprised.” I was aiming for casual to hide the way my heart had slipped into warp speed. Plus, it sounded better than, ‘this old thing?’
“Sorry. I just . . .” He was still staring at me and I fidgeted uncomfortably. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
He was parked in my mother’s spot and I was ridiculously grateful to be out of there before she got back and tore into him for it.
“You eat meat, right?”
“Um . . . yeah.”
“Okay, good. We’re having chicken marinara. My mom makes it from scratch. It’s really good. I’ve just never seen you eat anything but peanut butter and jelly at school and I thought maybe you were a vegetarian or something.”
He was babbling and it was kind of cute, but my brain got stuck on the fact that he knew what I ate for lunch every day.
“It’s sounds delicious.”
“It is.” Kiernan rolled his eyes and reached for the radio dial.
My first reaction was that it was meant for me. He didn’t want me to talk anymore. But he’d told me to listen to him—not just hear and assume—and listening said the eye roll was internal. It was him he didn’t want talking anymore. Listening to more than just his words, but his body language, told me that he was embarrassed. Oh yeah, I was in trouble.
Thunder rumbled above us and a few stray flashes of cloud lightning lit up the sky with the promise of a good old-fashioned storm to come. I loved lightning—even as a child. I’d always thought of it as nature’s own fireworks display. It was beautiful and elegant. And deadly. The danger element added a little something, not that I had any desire to actually get hit by it. But the thought that something so enchanting could do so much damage was captivating. It drew me in until I was leaning over in my seat for one more glimpse of it as we parked outside Kiernan’s house.
We hadn’t spoken another word the rest of the drive and there were no more to come in the foreseeable future as I sat there gawking up at the place he called home.
“You coming?” Kiernan was holding my door open and grinning at me like a loon.
He’d done this on purpose just to see my reaction. “Why didn’t you warn me you lived in a . . . a mansion?”
I definitely should have gone with the dress. And heels. And maybe a string of pearls. Sweet baby Jesus, it was enormous.
“Stop. You look amazing.” I had to wonder if he really could read my mind until his fingers wrapped around mine, tugging them away from where I was fiddling with the hem of my shirt. “They’re going to love you, so relax.”
There he went telling me to relax in completely impossible situations again.
It was disconcerting how relieved I was when Kiernan pulled out a set of keys and let us into the house. I fully expected the door to swing open every step of our approach and reveal some uniform clad butler or something. It was that big.
When we stepped inside, I immediately looked for the enormous spreads of flowers and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. That’s what rich people had in their houses, right? Well, not this one. The normalcy of it actually shocked me a little. I think butlers and obscenely priced artwork and mammoth lighting fixtures would have surprised me less than the muddy boots lying haphazardly in the entryway where Kiernan dumped our coats in a small closet.
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The rest of the house, from what I could see, looked down right homey. Off the foyer was a spacious room clad in thick, warm red carpeting. Beige couches sat facing one another with a dark wood table set between them. Not stiff, fancy, hardback sofas, but plush, overstuffed couches that looked softer than a cloud. A fire burned merrily in the corner adding to the welcoming feel of the room. Pictures—not paintings, but actual framed photos—hung from the walls. Books littering end tables and a remote tossed casually on a couch cushion showed the room was actually used, lived in, not just for appearances.
The smokey scent coming from the fireplace mingled with the amazing smells of garlic and tomato sauce, making my mouth water.
“Kiernan? Honey, is that you?”
“Yeah, Mom. We’re back.”
“Oh good.” Footsteps sounded on the wide staircase.
I was about to meet his mother. Kiernan Parks’ mother. I headed straight into cardiac arrest territory when the footsteps drew closer. My mouth dried up and I lost all motor control. Kiernan tried to nudge me forward, but I wasn’t going anywhere. Possibly ever again. She was going to hate me. Without a doubt, she would take one look at me and toss me right out of her lovely home. I didn’t belong in a place like this. Even if Kiernan was oblivious to the fact, his mother surely would notice.
My feet itched to save her the trouble. Only Kiernan’s firm grip on my hand kept me from skedaddling right back out that door we’d come through. Wait . . . he was holding my hand? Good Lord.
I made a valiant attempt to wrestle myself free, but Kiernan was having none of it. It was like he thought I might be planning to . . . do exactly what I was planning to do. Well, crap. Conceding that he had the upper hand—both figuratively and literally—I gave up the fight. He shot me a knowing grin just as his mother descended the final steps, bringing her face to face with the two of us.
“You must be Jade.” I waited for it. Held my breath and prepared for the worst. I wouldn’t cry. Not in Kiernan’s home. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
I blinked at her, stunned into silence and immobility until she reached out and pulled me into a close embrace. Still feeling the effects of shock, my arms slowly lifted and wrapped awkwardly around her, as well. Kiernan’s mom was hugging me? I couldn’t even remember the last time my own mother had done that. If she ever had. The likelihood was highly debatable.
“Kiernan asked if you were a vegetarian, right?”
She released me, stepping back as though it had been the most natural thing in the world. I was still reeling. “No. I mean, yes, he asked me. No, I’m not a vegetarian.”
“Wonderful.” Mrs. Parks clapped her hands and headed off toward the source of those fantastic smells. As we trailed behind her, I was relieved to note the lack of ballroom attire. In fact, she was dressed very similar to her son in blue jeans and a simple cream sweater. “Dinner’s just about ready. Why don’t you two go and have a seat and I’ll dish it up?”
“Do you need any help?”
Mrs. Parks stopped in her tracks, turning to face us just inside the kitchen. My heart rate picked up as I tried to figure out if I’d insulted her in some way. I hadn’t meant to imply she couldn’t handle it. I just—
“That’s very sweet of you, Jade. Thank you.” Her smile beamed at me, shriveling away my fears. “But you’re the guest this evening. Make yourself comfortable. Next time, however, I won’t hesitate to put you to work. The boys are no help at all in the kitchen.”
Next time? She was already assuming there would be a next time? I liked that. No, I really liked that. Something inside of me warmed and I felt a smile spread over my face. “Deal.”
Kiernan was smiling ear-to-ear by the time he led me into a large dining room and pulled out a chair for me. “She’s not kidding, ya know. She really will have you up to your elbows in pasta sauce next time, now that you’ve offered.”
“I’d like that.”
Kiernan claimed the seat beside me and shook his head. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
He wasn’t joking when he said his mother cooked enough to feed any army. The tray she deposited in the middle of the table was overflowing with chicken, cheese, and sauce. More food than I could eat in a week.
“It looks delicious.” My mouth was watering so badly, I feared I may drool.
“Thank you. Dig in, there’s plenty.” She passed me a serving spoon and my gaze dropped to the empty chair beside Kiernan’s mother. I wondered if it was rude to start without his brother.
Mrs. Parks laughed lightly. “Caulder is quite the rebel. Thinks he’s proving something by being late to every meal. All he really gets is cold food.” She winked at me and I saw where Kiernan got that charming habit from.
“I’m not rebelling, Mom. I’m just—” Caulder, I assumed, stopped halfway into the dining room to give me a double-take. I did the same to him. Unlike his mother and brother, Caulder had a full head of mahogany brown hair that matched the stubble lining his jaw and looked as unruly as the rest of his appearance. Dark wash jeans hung low on his trim hips beneath a navy button up. He must have grown bored with the process of dressing, however, because half way up the buttons hung open, revealing a plain white tee clinging to a solid chest. Not solid like Kiernan’s. Solid like possibly the Terminator. If I had to guess, I’d say one of the many unseen rooms in this house was a gym. “I’m just busy.”
“Busy-schmusy. We have company,” Mrs. Parks chided as her oldest son took a seat beside her.
“So I see.” He glanced from me, to Kiernan, and back again and, if it were possible, I’d swear the temperature in the room dropped by twenty degrees. “And who is this?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Kiernan swallowed the bite he’d been chewing and grabbed his glass of water to wash it down. “This is Jade. Jade, my brother Caulder.”
“Nice to meet you.” Shaking hands might be considered too much of an old man thing to do, so instead I nodded across the table at him.
He didn’t seem to notice either way, all of his attention riveted on Kiernan. “What is she doing here?”
“I invited her.” Kiernan straightened beside me to stare back at his brother and the temperature took another nosedive.
“You invited her over for a family dinner?”
How was it even possible that I’d managed to make him hate me so quickly? I’d only said four words.
“Yeah, I did.”
“So, what? Are you two . . . dating?”
And there it was. I knew it was coming, I just hadn’t expected it from his brother. Someone was bound to notice I didn’t belong here. That I wasn’t good enough to be sitting by Kiernan’s side. The rest of the world knew. Of course his family would agree.
“Cal!” Mrs. Parks shot a warning glance at her son, which he completely ignored.
“That’s really none of your damn business.” Kiernan’s gaze flicked to me and back again, and I was kind of wondering the answer to that question myself.
“No. You’re right, it’s none of my business. But don’t you think it’s hers?”
The moment Caulder’s eyes locked on me, my flight instincts kicked in. “Maybe I should just—”
“No. You’re not leaving.” Kiernan’s hand wrapped around the arm of my chair, making it impossible for me to get out.
Caulder folded his napkin in half, scowling into his uneaten dinner. “By all means, you stay. I’m not hungry anyway.” Shooting a death glare at Kiernan on his way out, he left us entrenched in silence.
I fiddled with my own napkin, chewing my lower lip until I couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Kiernan leaned closer, ducking his head to catch my eye. “You have nothing to apologize for. He . . . Caulder just . . .” Releasing a deep sigh, Kiernan let his head drop forward. “I know you won’t believe me, but that had nothing to do with you.”
The inch of ice coating my skin sure as hell made it feel like it had to do with me. “It’s getting late.”
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“Perhaps another night,” Mrs. Parks chimed in, sealing my fate. Her son had made his opinion clear and she wouldn’t choose me over him. She shouldn’t.
“Mom, can I speak to you for a minute?” Kiernan balled his napkin, tossing it onto the table beside his plate. “In private.”
He wasn’t happy, that much was clear. I never should have agreed to come here. I should have listened to my gut and known this would end badly. I’d successfully come into Kiernan’s home and put his entire family at odds.
“Kiernan, I—”
“Of course.” Mrs. Parks offered me a small smile as her chair scraped back over the wood flooring. “Why don’t you finish your meal? I’m very sorry. Please excuse us. We’ll be right back.”
My panicked gaze flicked from her to Kiernan. “I can really—”
“Jade. Eat.” Kiernan got to his feet to follow his mother. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”
I sat there staring at the most delicious meal I’d ever seen in my entire life, lamenting the fact that I’d never know what it tasted like. There wasn’t a chance I could eat a single bite sitting there in that big, quiet room, all alone.
This was pointless. I wasn’t worth causing a rift in his family over. If it wasn’t so far, I would have simply left. Walked myself home. But it was at least a half-hour walk and the storm was picking up outside the large bay window. Instead, I went looking for Kiernan. I’d tell him I felt sick and needed to go home. I’d promise to come back another time and then go hide from the world somewhere. It didn’t matter where. For now all that mattered was getting the hell out of there as soon as possible.
I probably could have gotten lost searching the entire house, but luckily they hadn’t gone far. Voices carried through a closed door at the end of a hallway running past the kitchen. One of them was definitely Kiernan. From the end of the hall, I couldn’t hear what they were saying and I truly had no intention of eavesdropping, but as I drew closer and heard my name, I couldn’t stop myself.
“He can’t treat Jade that way. She doesn’t understand.”
“I get that, Kiernan. I think that’s half the problem, though.”