Page 138 of Mountain Daddy
I feel terrible that we’re including Jessie in our lie. She mentioned my dad talking about me, but maybe it’s more of a passing-by type of friendship. Like she just knows him because her brother is friends with him.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
Universe, please just give me this.
On fucking cue, Dad sets his plate next to Jessie’s and drops into the folding chair, bumping his elbow into hers. “Hey, Jess, how’s it going?”
Well, that was the shortest-lived delusion ever.
Luther sets a bottle of beer next to my plate as he takes the seat next to me, across from Dad.
“Thanks,” I murmur, torn between wanting to strangle him and wanting to curl up in his lap.
“Can I sit by you?” His daughter’s voice startles me, again, as she sets a plate of dessert on my other side.
“Of course.” I smile, and I know I show too many teeth.
Flustered, I reach for the beer.
Before I can wrap my fingers around it, Luther’s hand reaches it first.
That idea of strangling is suddenly even more likely, but then I watch as he twists the top off for me.
Oh.
“Thank you,” I say as I take the open bottle from him.
“Mine too.” Dad pushes his beer across the table toward Luther.
“Open your own.” Luther shakes his head.
“The caps hurt my hands,” Dad complains, pushing the beer even closer to Luther.
Sighing, Jessie leans forward, grabs the bottle, twists off the top, flicks the cap at Luther, then hands the bottle to my dad.
Dad flutters his lashes at Jessie. “I think I’m in love.”
She rolls her eyes at him.
“I think you’re an idiot,” Luther grumbles as he opens his own beer.
Ashley laughs.
And I bite my lip. If I laugh right now, it will one thousand percent turn into full-blown hysteria.
“So, are you liking Colorado?” Ashley turns sideways in her chair to talk to me. “Have you been anywhere cool? What’s your favorite part?”
I blink at her.
Luther stage whispers from my other side, “She’s a bit of an extrovert.”
My smile feels less forced this time. “I haven’t really gotten out and about yet, but everywhere is just so pretty,” I tell Ashley truthfully.
She starts to tell me about her favorite places to go, and as she talks, I notice that the cards my dad and I gave her are blessedly nowhere in sight.
She probably put them wherever the rest of the gifts are. But she could’ve lit my hundred dollars on fire for all I care. I just don’t want to be around when she reads the lamest card in history.
