Page 93 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
My jaw clenched in irritation. I’d had to take a stand. I could have waited for Dad to come around, but at what point did I stand up for the man I loved? In three weeks, four? In six months? No. I’d just fall into another endless cycle of trying to please Dad and knowing that I never could. But I did understand where Lena was coming from. She hated conflict, always had.
“It’s done now,” I said. “As long as Dad is accepting of it, there’s no reason I won’t be around as often as before. It’s just that now, Trace will be with me more often.”
“It’s really serious with you two, huh?”
“It is.”
“Like, you’re going to marry him and have his babies serious?”
I snorted. “Now, you’re the idiot,” I said, turning to head into the dining room. I didn’t want to keep Trace waiting too long.
“You didn’t say no,” she trilled behind me.
I made a beeline for the table, setting out the casserole. Glancing around, I didn’t see Trace. Or Dad. Uh-oh, that couldn’t be good.
Just in case we were about to be shown the door, I picked up a plate and worked around the crowd of hungry twentysomethings to pile it with turkey, the sweet potato pie someone had brought, Dad’s cranberry stuffing, and my corn casserole. There were about five more side items I’d love to try. Maybe if Trace and Dad didn’t kill one another, I’d get to come back for seconds.
Once my plate was as loaded as I could manage, I grabbed some silverware and made a circuit of the house. Just as I’d suspected, Trace was not among the guests in the living room, where Dad had set up a few card tables to ensure everyone had a plate to sit. The sofa was crammed with four people, including Simon, sitting hunched over a very full plate on the coffee table.
“Hey, Coop,” he said with a grin. “Your dad knows how to cook a turkey.”
“You should try his stuffing,” I said.
“Oh, I got some. Not so sure about the cranberries,” he said. “This sweet potato pie is bomb though.”
“Yeah, one of the guests brought that. But Lena is putting out some of her pies. Make sure you don’t miss that.”
“Not a chance,” he said. “Your Dad’s really great to do this. Seriously.”
I nodded distractedly. “Have you seen him? Or Trace?”
Simon had shoveled a large bite into his mouth and had to finish chewing before answering. “Uh, I think they headed that way.” He pointed toward the hall that led to the bedrooms, bathroom, and my father’s office.
Sure enough, I found them standing in the office, locked in a quiet conversation. At least there was no yelling. There was an intensity to their expressions that said it wasn’t a light or fun conversation. I hesitated, unsure whether I should interrupt, when Dad paused to pull out his cell phone.
He answered, looking tense. But as he talked, some of those lines of tension eased. He even smiled.
I took the opportunity to enter, holding out the plate to Trace. “Didn’t want you to go hungry,” I said quietly.
Trace took the plate, dropping a quick kiss to my temple. “Thanks.”
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He looked speculative. “I think it really is.”
Just as I breathed out a sigh of relief, my father extended the phone. “Cooper, it’s your mother. She’d like to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving.”
My guard, which had begun to lower, snapped back up. I glanced at Trace, though I don’t know why. He wasn’t in control of my parents. My heart beat fast, though, and he was my anchor.
“I don’t know,” I said hesitantly.
“Can you wait a moment?” Dad murmured into the phone before setting it on his desk. Then he approached me, speaking in a low voice, probably so that Mom wouldn’t overhear him on the other end of the phone call. “Look, I’ve always respected your wishes when it came to how you felt after the divorce. But it’s been years now, and your Mom loves you. She misses you.”
My face pulled tight before I could stop it, my skepticism showing. Mom had walked out on me and Lena too, not just Dad. She hadn’t just left him; she’d moved out of the country with a fucking diplomat, and she’d not once offered to bring me or Lena with her.
“I know you’re angry,” Dad said, “and I don’t blame you. But I do think you’ll regret it if you never talk to her again.” He hesitated. “You’ve asked me to accept your choice to be with Trace. Maybe it’s time you accept her choices too.”
Oh, damn. He had to hit me where it hurt. I glanced again to Trace.
