Page 5 of Faking It With the Single Dad

“We just checked in at the hotel, Aunt Linda. I told you, we’re just staying for a little while.”

“Hotel? Ahotel?” Her voice is high-pitched, as if she’s about to faint from the shock. “You’re my nephew! Here, in the name of the Lord, is your aunt! And you chose to stay in a hotel instead of my house? Oh Lord, I’m dying.”

I pull over because there’s no other way to handle it. “Look, Aunt Linda, I didn’t mean to upset you, okay? I thought it wouldn’t be comfortable if you—”

“Not comfortable?” She cuts me off. “You think I’m uncomfortable? I’ve been waiting for you and Alice to show up. Jason and Luke were just over! They couldn’t have been more thrilled when they learned you were back. You can’t just leave us hanging like this!”

I cringe. “I didn’t intend to—”

“Oh, no, no! You’re coming over for dinner. That’s it. No excuses. I don’t want to hear it.”

“I believe there’s no saying no to that.”

“There isn’t. You’re gonna get your butt here, and we’ll dine together like the big, happy family we are.”

“And Caleb?”

“What about Caleb?”

“Will he be there too?”

She pauses. “Caleb is not your business.”

“I know, but—”

“No buts, boy. No buts. And so what if Caleb will be there? You’re brothers, not sworn enemies. You’ve been at this for six years now. Six! And for what? It would be best if you learned to forgive, and I don’t care who’s right or wrong anymore. Life is too short, and you must stop punishing each other. Family is family. You’ll regret all this fighting when you’re older.”

I bite my lip, not wanting to admit that I know she’s right, even if it stings to hear it. “It’s not an excuse, but I have some business to deal with tonight.”

“I won’t take that from you. It’s family time, Ryan. Now, do I need to set up an extra plate?”

“Why would you do that?”

“You know, just in case you have an extra guest?”

I sigh. “No extra plate, Aunt Linda. Just me and Alice, and we’ll be there later tonight.”

She’s silent, and for a while, I fear she’ll push back. But instead, she sighs, heavy and dramatic. “Fine.Fine. But don’t feel like you can stand us up. We’re having dinner, and you’re staying for dessert. Got it?”

“Got it,” I mutter, already mentally arranging my escape after the meal is over. “We’ll be there soon. See you soon.”

“Fine. And don’t be late!” she says. I sigh and hang up. This is why I never go near her. The last time I stayed at her place, I found myself roped into a blind date with her childhood friend’s daughter. The woman was nice, but Aunt Linda was blatantly attempting to sell me. She’d pulled out all the stops—making reservations for dinner at the most expensive restaurant in town, telling me I needed to “calm down” and get someone before I “ruined my life with all that work.” The whole night was like a question-and-answer session, and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I shake my head and start the car again.

Vance is waiting in a small, dingy office in the back of a tire shop. He’s tall and wiry, with slicked-back black hair and deep lines carved into his face, probably from years of squinting in suspicion. His pale gray suit, which looks like it hasn’t been dry-cleaned since the late ‘80s, has a faint cigar smell clinging to the fabric.

“Ryan Blackwood,” he says, leaning back in his squeaky chair as I walk in. “The man himself.”

I don’t bother with pleasantries. “Let’s get to it.”

He gestures to the seat across from him, and I reluctantly sit. We go over the terms we discussed on the phone, but when we start talking money, he tries to pull the rug out from under me.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says as he taps his pen on the desk. “We’re going to need to adjust that figure we discussed.”

“Adjust it up?”

“Down, actually,” he says, smirking. “You know, the property’s been sitting there a while. It’s losing value.”

I clench my jaw, trying to stay calm.What a rip-off. I should’ve seen this coming.

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