Page 34 of The Version You Hide

At that moment a text chimes through my phone and I pull it from my top pocket. It’s my dad.

DAD: We're waiting for you. You're late.

I let out a groan. They’re already here. And I’d put money on who this awful woman making Mackenzie’s life hell might be.

Harper hands me the tea, which at this point I don’t even think I can stomach. I set off across the road, leaving Mackenzie there to source the cream.

When I enter the tavern, the first thing I see is my father, seated at a table smack bang in the middle of the room. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his black Hugo Boss suit and matching shiny shoes, no doubt made from the finest Italian leather.

The second thing I see, or hear rather, is Faith Abbott. Dressed elegantly in a burgundy designer cocktail dress, she screeches at Corey from the opposite side of the bar. “Where has that wretched girl gone with my drink?”

Corey mutters an apology to my mother as I place an arm around her shoulder. I begin steering her in the direction of the table. As if on cue, Mackenzie comes barrelling through the doors of the tavern, a small tub of cream in hand.

“I’m sure your drink won’t be too much longer, mother,” I say loud enough for Mackenzie to hear.

Her head snaps up as she catches my words, a knowing look passing over her face. Mackenzie doesn’t know the inner workings of my relationship with my parents, but she knows that things are strained between us. I’m counting on her to help me make this experience as pain free as possible but when her eyes meet mine, they’re full of mischief, crinkling at the corners as she aims a devious one-sided smirk my way.

My mouth forms a grim line in response. I shake my head at her as if to say, “Now is not the time to give me any shit,” but she only lets out a low chuckle.

My lips part, another quiet sigh passing through them as I take a seat between both of my parents. I’m about to ask them how they both are, to entertain the usual small talk, but my mother speaks before I get a chance.

“Seriously, Dylan. This place is lacking.” She picks up the laminate card in front of her between her forefinger and thumb, eyeing it as though it’s a plague-infected rat. “The menu is bare. There’s hardly any choice.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and take a sip of my tea. It’s too hot and it makes me splutter. “How are you, Mum?” I ask, ignoring her remarks. “What have you been up to?”

“I’m splendid,” she answers, folding her hands into her lap, the precious gemstones gracing her fingers and wrist shimmering under the light. “I trust that Claire told you all about the party arrangements for Saturday? It starts at 6pm sharp.”

“Yes.’ I nod as enthusiastically as I can manage. “She mentioned it.”

“Here you go, mam.” Mackenzie’s voice is the epitome of fake politeness as she smiles down on my mother. “Your Ramos Gin Fizz.”

She places a tall glass filled with white liquid that barely resembles the cocktail my mother has asked for. I don’t blame her though. My mother has clearly requested one of the most difficult-to-make cocktails there is and I can honestly say I wouldn’t have been able to do any better.

Mum glares at her, but Mackenzie’s smile doesn’t falter. I admire this about her, I realise. Mackenzie doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of her and nor should she. Despite all she’s been through, she knows who she is, and she doesn’t bow down to the demands of others. She’s unapologetically herself.

My father clears his throat loudly, leaning back in his chair. “Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we?” His tone is condescending as usual. “When are you coming back home?”

I hear Mackenzie shuffle from side to side behind me as she busies herself at a nearby table. The sound of the salt and pepper shakers clinking together repeatedly could not make it any more obvious that she’s eavesdropping.

I sigh again, my head falling into my hands. “I’ve told you time and time again. I am staying here in Cliff Haven. I don’t want to run the business.”

“But don’t you want more for yourself, darling?” Now it’s my mother’s turn to weigh in. “You should be thinking about your future. Don’t you want a steady career? To find a nice girl and settle down?”

Mackenzie giggles softly somewhere behind me and I drag my hands over my face, frustrated to be having this same conversation over and over. “Yes, Mum. I do want more for myself. That’s why I’m here. But I don’t need a girlfriend.”

“And why not?”

I’m fighting a losing battle here. I shake my head before taking another long draw of my tea.

“Because he already has one.” Mackenzie’s voice fills my ears, more chipper than I’ve ever heard it as she slips into the empty chair beside me. She slings a toned arm around my neck.

I’m so shocked by her words, I choke on my tea, the hot liquid spluttering from my lips as I try to suppress my shock. I have no idea what this girl is doing, but she sure knows how to put on a show.

I swipe the moisture from my chin and dare a glance at my my mother. Mum’s expression is as expected; one of absolute horror. She looks from Mackenzie and then back to me.

“Dylan,” she says, her voice stern. “You neglected to tell us that you were in a relationship. Do you care to elaborate here?”

My eyes go to Mackenzie’s, a twinkle of trouble playing in them, a smirk turning up the corners of her mouth. My eyes plead with hers, silently asking where the hell she’s going with this. Her gaze softens and I think for a second, she might dial it back, but instead she winks.

---