My mother’s throat-clearing rattled the chandelier.
I nudged Boone. He hadn’t accepted what I had—bringing up the past and the wrongs held within it didn’t result in an apology, but it could wind up declaring war.
“So you’re unemployed, Boone?” Ford said, moving closer to us while my mom started fanning herself like she was close to passing out.
What a mess. I hadn’t meant for this to happen like this. I hadn’t meant to shock and alienate my family from the word go.
“And I only needed to say that once. Good for you for improving your listening and comprehension skills, Ford. You get an A-plus. And that’s one your daddy didn’t even have to buy you.” Boone kept that half-smile pasted in place, acting like this entire thing was a game he was enjoying. Actually, I knew he was enjoying messing with Ford. It was one of Boone’s favorite pastimes, just like messing with Boone was one of Ford’s.
“And being unemployed is something new for you? Because that’s not what the unemployment office is claiming . . .”
Charlotte tugged on Ford’s arm like she was trying to warn him to shut up. I would have done the same to Boone, but I was afraid to touch him. I’d never been able to just touch Boone Cavanaugh.
“And high marks for wit and comic relief as well.” Boone clapped in Ford’s direction. “On a roll tonight, McBride. Nice to see what an Ivy League education and a couple hundred grand can buy a guy these days.”
“I’m pretty sure Estelle here has a gardening position open.” Ford lifted his arm in my mom’s direction, waiting for her to confirm.
Her lips stayed sealed. She wouldn’t offer Boone anything, I knew. A job pruning her roses included.
“Should be able to score a lot of overtime this week with the wedding and all,” Ford continued. “Enough for some pocket change for the next time you find yourself with a woman and consider stopping by a convenience store to pick up some supplies. You know, in case you want to learn your lesson from the first time.”
I felt like I’d just been punched in the ribs. My lungs collapsed, and I wavered in place. Around the room, my mom and sisters shared a gasp, while Boone’s hands curled into fists as he squared himself in front of Ford. His tense shoulders quivered with what I knew was anger. Some people trembled when they were scared; some quivered when they were sad. Boone? Anger was only that emotion that could truly shake him.
“I’m not the only one who forgot to show up with ‘supplies’ in our lifetimes, Ford, so step off.” Boone’s voice was low and rolled through the room.
Whatever Charlotte saw on Boone’s face had her reaching for Ford’s arm again, digging her heels into the floor as she tried to pull him back a few feet. Not that I could blame her. Boone might have been in front of me, but I knew enough about that tone to picture which expression went along with it. We also knew that when those two had gotten into it in the past, Boone had always come out the winner—at least in terms of the blood-and-sweat battle. Ford had come out on top when it came to getting out of jail free and getting a pass on detention
“When did this happen, Clara Belle?”
My mother’s voice was so quiet, I wasn’t sure it was her who’d spoken. Only after realizing she was waiting for me to answer did I register who had asked the question.
“When did what happen?” I asked, stepping around Boone so I had a good view of everyone in the room again.
“You and . . .” My mom seemed almost scared to look at him, but she finally did. If only for a moment. “Boone.”
This was exactly why I wanted to save the big reveal for tomorrow morning: so I could have the night to work out some story. Some story that didn’t have anything to do with walking into a backwoods bar and offering an old flame ten grand to pose as my plus one.
“Not too long ago,” I said right at the same time Boone said, “A while now.”
Four pairs of eyes shifted between Boone and me.
“Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you give me a little warning . . . so I could prepare your father and myself for this?” My mom’s complexion had gone a few shades lighter.
I couldn’t remember a time I’d seen her so at a loss—other than the time after I’d told her about . . . that time. I shook my head and let go of that thought. That was the past, and a part of the past that was too painful to hold on to. I had to let that go for good somehow.
“I’m saying something now,” I answered. “Sorry if you needed a warning before finding out Boone was my plus one, but I just didn’t think it was that big a deal.”
“Yeah, why would Boone Cavanaugh snaking his way back into your life again be a big deal?” Charlotte said under her breath.
My reply wasn’t said under my breath. “Because that was eight years ago, and some people believe in moving on. Get over it already, Charlotte. I have.”