Page 42 of Faking it with my Off Limits Neighbor

I walk further into the room, and Dad, who’s moved from the breakfast bar to the fridge, meets me halfway and hands me a beer. He’s giving me a knowing look, like he knows the answer to Milly’s question already. “You look good, son. Like you have a spring in your step.”

Seriously?

“So?” Mom has moved her attention from Milly to me. “Are you guys back together?”

Dropping into a chair at the breakfast bar, I can feel my earlier resolve to keep my mouth shut slowly waning. I have two choices. Lie to their faces, which I don’t want to do. Or tell them the truth, which I also don’t want to do. If I lie, and they find out, they’ll be gutted. I don’t want that. Charlie wasn’t the only one I hurt when I left so suddenly.

“Fine,” I sigh. “But if I tell you, you have to swear”—I point my finger to each of them in turn—“that you will not breathe a word.”

“We swear!” Milly exclaims. Mom nods excitedly, and Dad inclines his head with a soft, slow smile.

“The answer is yes. Charlie and I are trying again.”

“Yeow!” Milly cries, jumping in the air.

“Oh, darling,” Mom gushes. “I’m so happy for you.”

Dad slaps my shoulder and nods his head. “Good for you, son.”

“Yes, yes,” I gesture for them all to settle. “But it’s early. Like, early-early. I don’t want to mess this up, so not one word.” I look directly at Milly. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” she huffs, even though she’s still grinning from ear to ear. Putting her hand on her heart, she says, “I swear, I will not even think it.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure.”

Mom takes a pile of plates out of the cupboard. “You have to tell us all about it. What happened? Did you ask her? Did she ask you?”

“Mom,” I say, my tone lightly reprimanding.

“Well, who knows?” Mom shrugs. “Times have changed. Besides, from what I saw of her at Grandma’s party, she seemed to be enjoying herself with you.”

While Mom plates out dinner, I tell them about Eddy Crowley arriving at Charlie’s house. That information angers Mom and Milly in equal amounts. But as I relay the rest of the story, their anger passes. By the time I’m finished, and I’ve answered all their questions, we’re all sitting at the dining table.

“I couldn’t be happier for you, Troy,” Mom says. “It looks like everything is working out for you at last. The restaurant, Charlie. Everything.”

“This is a new start,” Milly adds. “You and Charlie with all the cards on the table.”

Her words grab me, and a twisting sensation turns in my gut. My sister means nothing cruel by her off-the-cuff remark, but guilt floods through me as she and Mom continue talking about how great the news is.

You see, all the cards are not on the table. Not yet. In fact, I don’t know if I can ever put all the cards on the table. Charlie goes to see her dad every week, and from what I can gather, their relationship has never been better. Who am I to ruin that? If I tell her the truth, I’ll be the one who drives a wedge between them; as much as I can’t stand the guy, I’m not sure if I can do that to Charlie.

Besides, it was so long ago now. Isn’t it better to let sleeping dogs lie?

Is that you convincing yourself not to come clean?

Yes. I suppose it is. But I’m doing it for all the right reasons. What happened back then doesn’t matter anymore. Charlie said it herself. We can’t move forward if we’re looking at the past.

Sure, but she doesn’t know what you know. Maybe her view would be different if she had all the facts.

I try to ignore my inner chatter and bring my mind back to the meal. Maybe I will tell her, but it needs to be done carefully, delicately.

“How’s the restaurant coming along?” Dad asks a little later on. “I’ll have to drop by and take a look.”

“Me, too.” Mom nods.

“It’s coming on great. I have new chairs ordered; the glasses and tableware arrive in a few days. Then there’s the shelving, the drapes, the wallpaper, and the paint. They’ll be there the day after tomorrow.”

Dad’s frowning. “Drapes? Where the heck are you putting drapes?”

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