Page 11 of Foolish Games

I toss the cans from the cream of mushroom soup and the package from the chicken, then bring the skillet with chicken and rice to the table. “Listen, William from the team works at a garage. I’ll have him look at it tomorrow. Maybe it’s something cheap like the spark plugs.”

“And if it’s something more?” she asks, taking a drink of her black coffee and staring at me with bloodshot, hopeless eyes that break my fucking heart. “What if it’s the transmission?”

I’m supposed to be the man of the house now. I should be able to figure this shit out, to take care of her and the younger kids. I haven’t been a kid since Dad left when I was twelve. That’s why Mom shares her burdens with me, so she doesn’t have to carry them alone.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” I echo, scooping food onto her plate. “Like we always do. I’ll come up with the money. I’ll get Donny to hook me up with a job that pays under the table, like last time. It’ll be okay, Mom. I’ll make sure of it.”

I squeeze her hand before going to the couch, where I switch off the TV to a chorus of groans. “Mom’s about to leave for work,” I say. “Come have dinner with her before she leaves. It’s the only time you’ll get to see her today.”

When she’s gone, I call William about looking at the car, then get the kids tucked in, then argue with Mel about her homework for an hour. Deane sneaks out of bed and falls while climbing on the counter to get a glass from the cabinet, so I fix up his scrapes and clean up the mess. Later, when I’m already in bed and half asleep, I remember I never did the final draft of my paper that Vivienne’s been helping me with.

She’s going to be pissed that I get a bad grade after all the work she put in. She’s going to think I’m some lazy slacker who couldn’t be bothered to put as much effort into his own work as she does. Somehow, that bothers me more than getting a shitty grade.

five

#1 at the Box Office: Kiss the Girls

Vivienne Delacroix

“Are they watching?” Chaz asks as he holds his frame rigidly, maneuvering me around the dance floor with precise but robotic steps.

“Yes,” I say, glancing over his shoulder at my parents. “But don’t worry, it’s not you. They’ll be watching every guy I dance with.”

“I took lessons for this,” he grumbles. “It better pay off.”

“Just keep dancing,” I say. “You know my parents approve of us.”

“I can’t wait for this part to be over.”

Chaz is not naturally an athlete, and that includes dancing, but attending the Founders Ball goes along with the territory when you date the daughter of one of the first families to settle the town. He’s been attending since well before dating me, though. The McGinty family always gets an invite, as do most of the well-off families in town, unless they do something to piss off one of the founding families, which is always a big scandal.

This our first year to attend together, though, so the pressure is on. Especially since last year, when we’d just started dating, he didn’t impress my parents with the limited steps he’d learned from Cotillion.

“It’s just one dance,” I say, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s supposed to be romantic. You don’t have to get every step perfect.”

“Did I miss a step?” His face goes even paler under his freckles, and sweat breaks out along his forehead.

“No, you’re perfect,” I assure him. “Relax. It’s almost over. Then you can go sit down while I have to dance with all fifteen founding sons.”

“Thank god Krissy is here,” he says. “Otherwise, I might die of boredom before you’re done.”

“Yes, thankfully she’s here to keep you company,” I say through a tight smile. “Though I only have seven more dances before dinner.”

The song ends, and Chaz gives a slight bow and backs away from me, passing my hand to Jacob Darling. Then he scurries off the dance floor like he can’t get away fast enough.

“Vivienne,” Jacob says, flashing me his usual flirty smile. “You look lovely tonight, as always.”

“Thank you,” I say, relaxing into the steps as he begins to move confidently forward, with all the grace of a natural, seasoned dancer. I feel a little bad that Chaz handed me off to a Darling, but then, their family includes half the founding sons in town, so it’s hard to avoid them. Chaz must have forgotten since last year that they’re all enviably graceful on their feet, and he’d look clumsy in comparison.

“I couldn’t help but notice you did the couples dance with Chaz McGinty,” Jacob says, effortlessly twirling me around to display me to my family as we pass their table. He brings me back into his arms and grips me confidently as we continue around the floor. “Isn’t he a little… Duckling to your swan?”

“There’s only so many founding families to marry into before we’re all related,” I remind him. “Gotta bring in new blood somehow.”

“If you want to find quality guys, you gotta come to Willow Heights,” he says. “Why aren’t you there again?”

“My dad is feuding with the headmaster,” I say, rolling my eyes. “So, we’re punishing y’all by withholding the illustriousness of our intelligence and athletic prowess.”

“Sounds about right,” Jacob says with a grin. “Pretty sure my dad’s about to take away JT’s inheritance for refusing to get married by the ancient age of twenty-five.”

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