“So we have a bit of a dilemma.”
I turn at Payton’s voice. “Please tell me she isn’t here.” My eyes scan the back deck, hoping the surprise isn’t ruined.“No, no. She’s not here. But neither is her mom or dad.”
“Have you heard from them?” I look down at my watch, checking how late they are. Everyone was meant to be here an hour early so this wouldn’t happen.
“Yeah, they're running late. They’re not going to be here for another ten minutes.
Crap. Liberty should be here in less than fifteen.
“Okay, so I'll call B, see how far away she is.” Stepping away from the noise of the house, I pull my phone out of my pocket and bring up her name. She answers on the third ring, less chirpy than when I sent her out the door to work this morning.
“Hello, birthday girl.” Her grunt of a reply only proves she’s trying not to be pissed that no one has called her today to wish her happy birthday. “Have you left yet?” I ignore her attitude. Soon she’ll realize why everyone has stayed clear from her today.
“Just getting in my car now.” I grin because even though I can’t see her, I can picture the soft pout on her lips, and the crease in her brow that deepens when she’s sulking.
“How did it go?” I brave her attitude, because as much as I want to get her to this party, the meeting she’s been at for most of the afternoon was with Mitch’s caseworker regarded visitation for Dominic. While Mitch originally stated he wanted nothing to do with Dominic, these last few months have given him time to think it over some more. Surprisingly, like us, Dominic has been supportive of his brother's decision and hasn’t pushed the issue of seeing him. In the beginning, I didn’t buy it, but now, it’s not hard to see he’s trying. I’m not saying I trust the situation completely, but Dominic has kept himself out of trouble. Got himself a job at a local mechanics. He’s passing his random drug tests that are a part of his probation and from the intel Detective Marsh has been giving me, he hasn’t been affiliated with The Disciples since he testified against Anton.
“Yeah, it was fine. Everything is set for next week.” She sighs. A rush of breath pulses through the phone, tickling my ear with its vibrations.
“You okay?” I press, knowing she’s not. She’s trying so hard to be supportive of Mitch in whatever he decides, but welcoming Dominic back in his life is a big step, one neither of us have taken lightly. It’s nerve wracking. We’re all wondering if this is going to be a huge mistake. If Dominic is going to undo all the good Mitch has achieved these last few months.
“Just tell me this is a good thing.” The plea is desperate, so I give her what she needs.
“This is a good thing, Lib. Mitch is ready. He’s taken his time to come to this decision. Thought it through. He’s not a kid, and we need to respect his need for family in his life.” The soft sigh of relief washes over me, as my words do their job.
“You’re right. I’m just worrying.”
“I know you are, sweetheart, and that’s why Mitch is lucky. But please don’t worry about this too much. I’ve got Mitch’s back, and if Dom fucks up, even once, I’m there.”
“Thank you.” I’m not sure if she’s thanking me for having Mitch’s back or for reassuring her. Either way, I accept it.
“You’re welcome. Now, how far out are you?”
“Ten minutes.” Her tone is less tense now, and I’m cringing for what I’m about to ask next.
“Ahh, okay. Are you able to stop by the store on your way home and pick me up some beer?” I pause, waiting for her reaction. The last four months of living with this woman has taught me a lot. But nothing more than when she is sulking, you don’t poke her.
“W-what?” Liberty questions me while I smirk, watching Payton’s jaw drop as I try to buy us some more time.
“Well, it just so happens that I started the grill up then realized I needed beer, and you’re already out.” I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing.
“We’re eating in? I thought we were going to Il Centro’s?” Guilt sneaks its way into my reasoning, but I fight the urge to let the surprise out of the bag.
“Ahhh, yeah about that, they were booked when I called. We couldn’t get a reservation.” I’m going to boyfriend hell, front row seat.
“Oh, my God, this is the worst birthday ever!” she huffs in a fit of rage.
“I’m sorry, baby. I know you were looking forward to it. But I promise I’ll make it up to you.” I try to soothe her annoyance, but there's no use. She’s been looking forward to her birthday all month, and now we’re ruining it.
She doesn’t say anything for a while, her heavy breathing a clear indicator she is trying to calm herself. “Okay, so you just want the beer?” she somehow finds her Zen and asks.
“Yes, please, sweetheart.”