Page 71 of More Than Pen Pals
“Not sure if I should thank you or not.”
I shove his hand off the doorknob and open the door. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Throughout dinner, conversation flows naturally. My sisters have joined us, and they’re both eyeing Melissa and me speculatively. I don’t know if they’re aware of Mom’s plan or not, but they seem to have the same idea, because they freely tell Melissa flattering stories about me.
Mom, of course, seated me next to Melissa. I smile at her at regular intervals. A few times she places a hand on my arm as she laughs at something I say. I usually instinctively pull away from casual touches from anyone I’m not close to, but I don’t have to remind myself to act as if I like her touching me. I don’t feel a romantic attraction to her, but I’m comfortable with her already. I’m thinking more and more that she and I might become friends. I smile at the thought and catch Mom giving me a knowing look.
The deception is working, and I’m not fully sure how I feel about that. While this was the plan, I can’t help but consider how upset I was when I discovered Leslie’s deception. Am I not doing something similar—and to my mother as well as my sisters? But admitting to it now will also throw Melissa to the wolves, and I don’t want to do that to her.
As we eat dessert, I wonder if Leslie got my letter today. Then I wonder how she’ll answer my question. I smile again when I remember Randall’s news. God bless Wendy for not being afraid to spread the word like she’s at a sixth-grade slumber party.
After we’re finished eating, my brother surprises me by saying, “Melissa, why don’t you, me, and Ash head to his place to do some more catching up?”
I add, “And by ‘my place,’ he means the pool house.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh.
“Yes,” Mom says, “we love having Ashley so close, as do his sisters. He adores spending time with them. He’s so good with children.”
Randall coughs loudly and I hold back a snort. My sisters protest that they’re not children, but at a sharp look from Mom, they both parrot that I’m good with kids. Melissa smiles at my mother and pokes my leg under the table.
“That’s nice to hear,” she says.
I detect a hint of laughter in her voice and hope Mom doesn’t catch it. A quick glance at her informs me she doesn’t. She’s quite satisfied with herself.
“And I accept the invitation, Randall. Thank you,” Melissa says.
Tonya asks, “Can we come?”
“No,” our brother retorts, “children are not included in this invitation. Don’t you have anything better to do on a Saturday night than hang out with a bunch of old fogies, anyway?”
The girls both grumble but confess they have other plans.
Melissa starts to stand, and I scramble to my feet to pull her chair out. My mom appears ready to burst from excitement.
Randall and I say our goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Teague and show Melissa out of the room. We stay silent until we exit the house, when we all howl with laughter.
“Ash, is your place presentable?” Randall asks when he catches his breath. “We can go somewhere else if not.”
“It’s fine.” I keep the pool house in order all the time. I’m always a little afraid Mom will come in while I’m gone and judge me—and potentially later yell at me—if it’s a mess.
I lead the way around the pool and into my home.
Melissa is visibly impressed. It’s fairly plush as far as pool houses go, with a full kitchen and separate bedroom. It even has two bathrooms—one full bath attached to the bedroom and another locker-room style bathroom with three shower stalls that opens to the pool deck.
“This is perfect, Ash,” she gushes. “If I had an option like this, I’d take it, too. I can’t believe what I’m paying in rent.”
“Where are you living?” I ask her as we settle onto the couch.
“I’m near Wrigley,” she says. “Makes life easy because I don’t have a commute, but like I said, it’s not cheap.”
“So how is this thing going to work with you two?” Randall points his bottle back and forth between Melissa and me. “You going to keep up this charade?” He focuses on me. “You know Mom’s going to want details on how things are going.”
Melissa and I look at each other.
“Same with my mom,” she says. “Want to go on a fake date next week? Randall, why don’t you come too? On the off chance we’d run into Leslie, we can pretend the two of us are together and Ash is playing third wheel. I don’t want to make that situation any more complicated than it already is.”
I don’t miss the glimmer of excitement in my brother’s eyes at the thought of spending an evening with Melissa, but I don’t un-invite him, because I wouldn’t feel right going out with only her. It’s not as if I’d be cheating on Leslie, but I would no doubt feel like I was. And Randall does need some new friends. As do I, now that I think about it.
