Page 36 of The Snowball Effect

“I know Astoria is a bit of a hike, but – now that the cat is out of the bag – I’d really like to meet the woman that’s captured your heart.”

Emma recognized that tone. That speculative tone told Emma that her grandmother very much wanted to meet Regan. Not only because she’dcaptured Emma’s heart, but because she wanted to see if Regan measured up or if she was another Felicity.

She had to bite back the truth that wanted to come spilling from her mouth. It wasn’t in her nature to deceive her grandmother, first and foremost. On top of that – shewasn’tin a relationship with Regan fucking Gallagher!

But if she told her grandmother the truth, it would only bring about more questions: why would she have lied to her mother in the first place? Why would Emma, the woman Gram had done her best to raise as an honest person with integrity, have hidden behind such a silly un-truth? Why in the world would she and Regan, as two grown adults, have furthered the act and gone along with it in person?

How was it, Emma wondered as she stared bleakly at the passing taxis, that this was the one time in her life where telling the truth seemed to only bring aboutmorecomplications?

“Yeah,” she settled on instead. “Sometime soon.”

Oh, there it was. The pounding headache that Emma should have seen coming two minutes ago.

She had to end this before she found herself in a deeper hole. “Gram, I’m sorry, but I’m about to get on the subway. I have to run.”

By the time she got home, that headache was well on its way to becoming a migraine.

She was frustrated with her mother for a whole host of reasons – for being responsible for the way their relationship was. For presuming that Regan was her girlfriend and making it so easy for Emma to go along with it. For showing up yesterday unannounced. For sharing every last detail with Gram like a game of telephone.

She was frustrated with her grandmother for always letting Kimberly come sweeping back into their lives. For giving Kimberly Emma’s address. For being such an incredible presence in Emma’s life that she felt sick whenever she disappointed her.

And most of all, right now, she was frustrated with herself for being a fuckingidiotand getting herself into this mess.

Shutting the apartment door behind her with a sharp snap, she closed her eyes tightly when she heard Regan’s musicblaring.

The insistent, worsening pain behind her left eye throbbed at the volume, her frustration bubbling over.

Because she was frustrated with Regan, too. Perpetually.

She only had to take a few steps down the hall before coming to an abrupt stop in the doorway to the kitchen.

Her eye twitched.

A slew of ingredients, utensils, mixing bowls, and pans were strewn all over the counters, the disorder of it all pushing her over the edge.

Regan was singing – loudly – along to one of the pop songs from an old 3G album she had blasting from the small speaker perched on the windowsill as she stood at the sink.

“Do youhaveto listen to your music at a deafening volume?!” Emma had to shout to be heard. She honestly wasn’t sure she would be, even then.

Regan perked up, though, looking over her shoulder. A bright smile slid into place as she reached out and tapped on her phone, lowering the volume. “Hey! You’re home! I wondered when I’d see you; you didn’t answer my text about dinner. Or about how I have a surprise for you.”

Yes, Reganhadtexted her to say she was in the mood to cook and wanted to know if Emma was craving anything. And hadtexted heragainto say she had a little surprise and couldn’t wait to show her.

But, “I was busy at work, and we didn’t have dinner plans. We don’t have dinner together,” she stated plainly. “Other than the time you almost killed me. And given our track record, I wasn’t expecting a surprise.”

Regan waggled her finger in Emma’s direction. “One day, you’ll stop bringing that up; I was hoping today might be the one.”

“Yeah, well, it’s still pretty fresh,” Emma retorted, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

Whenever she felt overwhelmed, as she did now, feeling constricted – like everything was in her control – made her feel a little better.

Regan was undeterred. “I’d just thought we could have dinner together before inviting you out tonight. I’m going to Beth’s – my coworker at Topped Off? You’ve met her tons of times – soon. It’s going to be a super chill thing, just a hangout. I made some cupcakes. Anyway, they’re going to fuckingdiewhen I tell them about yesterday with your mom.”

“How about youdon’t?” Emma snapped, her frustration bleeding into her voice.

But she couldn’t really care right now.

Regan tilted her head slowly as if having trouble computing her words. “Don’t… what?”

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