Alex and I both stare at her in confusion for a few minutes before she laughs at both of us.
“Just kidding! I want to go to the sporting goods store and check out the new crossbows they just got in,” she informs him as he leans over and sets her down on her feet.
“Okay, I’m ready to go,” Meadow states as she joins us in the living room. She’s removed all of her winter wear and put my Seven jeans back on, but at least she’s now wearing a shirt that actually covers her body. And decided to add a thick protective layer of makeup.
“Uh, is she allowed to wear makeup?” Alex asks me.
“Good luck with that,” I tell him as I lean over and kiss each of the girls good-bye. I’ve had to parent them on my own for months now. It’s his turn.
As soon as they are out the door, I grab my pot of Buffalo Wing Dip and take it out to my car, securing it in the backseat before pulling out and heading to my father’s house. When I reach his cul-de-sac, my annoyance over the fact that Alex never once mentioned what happened between Griffin and me last night disappears. The street has been blocked off and is filled with my father’s neighbors, all wearing the signature blue-and-gold colors of Notre Dame. I’m pretty sure when they bought this house when my mom was pregnant with Ted, they made it a requirement of the Realtor to find them a house in Notre Dame territory. In the street there are picnic tables, cafeteria tables, and chairs, and enough food to feed an army. Or a herd of football fans. As I slowly pull into my father’s driveway, I see that he and my brothers have brought out his big-screen television and set it in the front yard with an extension cord. Today is going to be a good day.
Grabbing the Crock-Pot from the backseat, I make my way down the driveway and over to one of the tables where I see my father, Aunt Janet, and Uncle Wally.
“Is that Buffalo Wing Dip? It better be Buffalo Wing Dip,” Dad tells me as he eyes the Crock-Pot in the crook of my arm.
I haven’t spoken to my dad since I found out Griffin is the guy he hired, and refusing him his favorite football game snack is a good way to tell him I’m pissed at him about it. I set the Crock-Pot down at the far end of the table, out of his reach.
“Did you put in an extra cup of cheddar cheese?” he asks, staring at the Crock-Pot instead of me.
“I put in two extra cups of cheddar cheese. But you’re not getting any of it,” I threaten.
“Awwwww, come on, Kennedy. I’m an old man. Don’t deny me my Buffalo Wing Dip,” he complains, licking his lips as he watches Uncle Wally lift the lid and take a big whiff.
“Put that lid back on, Uncle Wally,” I scold, not taking my eyes off my father.
“What did I do?” Uncle Wally whines.
“Both of you know damn well what you did. Anyone care to tell me why they felt the need to hire Griffin to help me on your bail-jumping case?” I ask, crossing my arms in front of me and tapping my foot.
Aunt Janet pipes up. “Griffin? I haven’t talked to him in a few weeks. How is he?”
“You’re not helping,” I tell her through clenched teeth.
“Oh, what’s the big deal? I needed extra help and Griffin needed work,” my dad says with a shrug as he slides down the bench seat and reaches for the Crock-Pot lid.
“The big deal?” I argue, smacking his hand away as he gives me a dirty look. “The big deal is that I can’t work with him. He’s cocky and manipulative and annoying.”
“You’re forgetting handsome, persistent, and a great kisser.”
I jump in surprise and a squeak flies out of my mouth when I hear Griffin’s voice behind me.
“Kennedy, you kissed Griffin?” Aunt Janet asks excitedly.
“Technically, I kissed her. But she was an equal participant,” Griffin replies.
I hear my aunt mutter, “It’s about time,” under her breath and I turn around to give him a scathing look for airing this dirty laundry in front of my family. As soon as I look at him though, I’m reminded of that stupid kiss and dammit if I don’t want to haul him off behind the bushes and do it again.
“So are you guys dating now?” my father asks with a smile as he quickly shovels in a few mouthfuls of dip.
Turning away from Griffin’s smiling face, I take a page out of Meadow’s handbook and stomp angrily over to the end of the table. I slam the lid back down on the Crock-Pot, narrowly missing my father’s fingers.
“Heeeeeeey!” he complains as I snatch the Crock-Pot up from the table and shove it under my arm.
“NO DIP FOR YOU!” I whirl around and storm toward the house.
“If you guys are dating now, you can just split the finder’s fee on McFadden, right?” Uncle Wally shouts to me.
I hear Griffin’s chuckle as I throw open the door to my father’s house and go inside.
GD family.
CHAPTER 11
I pace angrily back and forth in my father’s kitchen, muttering to myself.
“Stupid man and his stupid infuriating grin. Stupid family. Stupid me for thinking about that damn kiss…”
“Can we talk, or do you need a minute?” Griffin asks as I turn and see him lounging against the doorway with a smile on his face.