Page 91 of Corkscrew You
Even Brendan succumbed to Mom’s charms. IfI’dsaid I couldn’t have more than one drink because I was driving, he would have been grumpy. But it was totally OK coming from Mom. He even gave her a doggy bag, whichneverhappens. In Brendan’s view, if you don’t eat everything on your plate, you didn’t deserve that meal in the first place.
It might be because Mom’s older and wiser than I am. Cam and Brendan not only like Mom, they respect her. Or, they have the hots for her, but let’s not go there.
Cam was a little – odd – when Mom mentioned Nate last night. As she didseveraltimes, causing me to eat more than I should have, owing to desperately needing a distraction.
Cam didn’t exactlysayanything, but he gave off a very un-Cam-like vibe. I remember my brother, Tyler, aged about five, taking against some kid he’d only seen across a room, and pretending to laser zap him Buzz Lightyear-style. My father laughed out loud at the determined scowl on Tyler’s face. Cam’s vibe reminded me of that scowl. But asking questions about Nate was the last thing I wanted to do, so I stuffed my face with curly fries, instead.
I should let Nate know where I’m heading. The note from yesterday is now in the trash because it got all screwed up in my pocket. I don’t have time to write that out again in full, so I scribble,At Mom’s for the day. Call if urgent. Will see you at 7, and tape it to the office door.
And then I hit the road, off to the coast. Hoping the Dodge will go the distance, and that Mom hasn’t had time to bake a cake.
* * *
Five o’clock on the dot, and I’m heading back. When Mom found out where I was going to dinner, she practically set an alarm.
“Are you and Nate—?” she did manage to ask before I left.
“Nope,” I said, truthfully, while wishing with every ounce of my being that it was a lie.
I should talk to him. That would be the brave thing to do. I mean, sure, he could reject me again, but at least I would havetried. And the worst another night of crying will do is give me puffy eyes, right?
Doubt we’ll get a chance to talk this evening. I really do not know what to expect, and I’m feeling nervous about what’s expected of me. Ava, and Nate, too, if he’s still in on this plan, want me to lay the emotion on thick for their dad. My feelings of sadness and loss are never too far from the surface, so odds are high I’ll be able to come through. But how will Mr Durant react? What if this all goes horribly wrong, and I make things worse?
My phone is directing me to the house. I’m about fifteen minutes out of Martinburg, in a semi-rural area, where the wealthier folk live. Phone says turn right down a gravel driveway lined with big trees. It winds through a green corridor for about a minute, and then—
Lordy. I’ve come home to Tara.
OK, so the style is more country than neo-classical, but it’shuge. Two-storey, cream and white weatherboard, a covered porch, gables and stuff. The driveway ends in a big circle of gravel, and I pull in next to the black Porsche, keeping company with a couple of other less flashy vehicles. Idon’tspot Nate’s pickup. But then, checking the time, I see I’m ten minutes early. That’s OK. I’ll just sit here for a bit.
Or not. The front door opens, and there’s Ava, waving at me. Right. Deep breath. Show time.
“Welcome,” she says, as I step inside. “I’m Ava, and I’ll be your security detail for this evening.”
“Don’t listen to her.”
A tall, sun-bleached blond guy in a polo shirt appears beside her. This must be the brother who owns the Porsche. He doesn’t look irate, so I guess he had insurance.
“I’m Danny,” he says, and shakes my hand. “The middle Durant.”
He has a killer smile, and though his hair is light and his eyes are a softer blue than Nate’s, I can see the likeness. The gene that controlled the cheekbones was clearly determined to crush all other competitors.
“And we’re the youngest equal.”
Golly. Twins. A boy – Max – and a girl – Izzy.
Dark red-brown hair, hazel eyes, and those figging cheekbones again make these two the best-looking of an extraordinarily handsome family. My own family, though I do say so myself, are pretty darn cute. Butthislot are next-level gorgeous.
“Ava and I are cooking,” says Max, who, now I’ve got over being dazzled, I see is indeed wearing a striped apron. “Mom’s trying not to interfere.”
Izzy links her arm in mine. “Come and meet her.”
I take surreptitious glances around the interior of the house, as we walk from the spacious entranceway into a truly enormous kitchen. It’s nicely decorated, in soft hues, giving an overall feel of tasteful, low-key opulence. A contrast to Mom’s studio, which is messy, sparkly, and ablaze with every colour of the rainbow.
Weirdly, though, Nate’s mom reminds me alotof my own mom. Similar age, beautiful, long hair, except that Mrs Durant’s is the same blond as Danny’s. But unlike Mom, she does not seem relaxed atall. There are worry lines around her mouth, and circles under her eyes. She looks thin, too, as if she hasn’t been eating properly.
“Oh, Shelby.” She clasps my hand with both of hers. “I amsopleased to meet you.”
I glance at Ava, who gives a quick shake of her head. No, Nate’s mom isn’t in on the plan. Makes sense. She looks stressed enough as it is.
