My mother’s expression goes bright enough to light the Air Canada Centre. She likes people who like food. So do I.
“You’re going to love everything,” she informs Jess. “PAPA RILEY MADE RIBS!”
“Oooh, sounds awesome.”
Mom turns to me. “Blakey, shut the front door please. We didn’t raise an animal—” Her forehead suddenly creases.
I turn around to see what’s got her all agitated. Through the door I’d left open, I spot a familiar silver Lexus pulling up the drive. The windows are tinted so I can’t see the driver, but… Fucking hell. The Lexus was here the day of Brenna’s baby shower, too.
I slowly turn back to my mother. “Kyle trade in his Beemer for a Lexus?” I ask hopefully.
She shakes her head. “He’s in the kitchen with Beth and Britt. They came together in Bethy’s car.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
“Hello, everyone.” Molly’s timid voice sounds from behind me. Those two words prick into my spine like a sharp needle.
This is Brenna’s doing, obviously. My sister always invites Molly to every occasion known to man. But this shit is getting ridiculous. I can’t even enjoy a nice relaxing lunch with my folks without having Molly shoved down my throat?
“Turn around and say hello,” my mother murmurs, her voice audible only to me. “She’s here now. We can’t be rude.”
I’m not the rude one. What about her? Why the fuck does she have to keep showing up like this?
I draw a breath to calm myself, then turn toward my ex-fiancée. “Hi,” I say tightly.
The smile on her face looks forced. I don’t even bother trying to muster one up. Jess does, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Hello again,” she says to Molly.
“Hi. Janet, was it?”
“Jess.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m so bad with names.”
She’s a lawyer. She can pull names out of her ass. I scowl at her before glancing at Jess. “Come on, babe, let me unload these dishes, and then we’ll get you a drink.” I need a drink, too. Or ten.
The dining room is empty, but the kitchen is bustling. Beth and her husband are at the counter flipping through what looks like a booklet of beach resorts, while my baby sister Britt leans against the fridge offering her two cents.
“No, don’t go to that one,” she advises. “The food is disgusto-central! If you’re dead-set on Mexico, go to the resort where the girls and I spent spring break. It was gorgeous, and nobody got food poisoning.”
“I don’t know if I want to go to Mexico,” Beth muses. “What do you think, Kyle? Don’t you want to go somewhere more exotic? Oooh! Like Bora Bora!”
“Never trust a place with a double name,” I declare from the doorway. “They always have a high crime rate.”
“Blakey!” Britt gives me a big hug, then greets Jess with a warm smile. “Hey, Jess. Nice to see you again.”
“Samesies,” Jess answers, before slapping a hand over her mouth. She pins me down with a death glare. “Oh my God. I’m picking up your stupid lingo. You’ve corrupted me.” I grin, but she cuts me off before I can make a filthy remark about corruption. “And name one other place like Bora Bora,” she orders.
I pause. “New York, New York. Duh.”
Everyone laughs.
“You want a beer, man?” my brother-in-law asks, rising from his stool.
“Hit me. Jessie?”
“I’ll just grab a water, thanks.” She wanders over to the cupboards and opens the one that holds the drinking glasses. I guess she remembers where we keep them from the last time she was here.
I find myself tracking her every motion as she uses the built-in icemaker on the fridge and then presses a button to dispense water. A warm feeling creeps up my chest. She looks so comfortable in my parents’ kitchen. She looks like she belongs here.
Footsteps in the hall suck all the warmth from my body and replace it with a chill. Brenna and Molly walk in, and it’s easy to figure out why Bren is scowling at me—Molly’s eyes look watery.
Of course they do. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that she turns on the waterworks when she’s in court just to win some sympathy from a jury. Twelve on a jury…yeah, at least half of them would probably be suckered in by those crocodile tears. Molly is very convincing.
Time for a change of subject. “Hey,” I say, nodding to both my sister and my evil ex. “How’s Harley doing?”
Molly hesitates. “Oh. Um.”
“He’s not in the car by any chance, is he?” I want to see that furry little beast so bad. He’ll remember me, even after five years. I’m positive.
Slowly, she shakes her head. “Blake, I’m sorry to tell you this, but…”
Oh, fuck. Don’t tell me he died. My spine tingles with discomfort.
“I gave him to some friends in Vancouver. It was hard to get home from work often enough to walk him.”
“You…” I’m not even sure I heard her right. “You gave away my dog? Without telling me?”
Her mouth opens and closes and then opens again. “You weren’t exactly taking my calls.” Bitterness splashes across her face. “But I guess I should have figured out you’d answer if the call was about the dog.”