Page 83 of Contingently Yours
“No, I understand. Go. Go ahead.”
“You’re staying, though?” I ask hopefully.
“You’re not getting rid of me, sweetheart.”
I wasn’t about to try denying anything to my sisters, but it would have been pointless with the way I’m smiling like a loon after that parting. The thing about twins is that no matter howmuch they try to say they’re different in so many ways, they’re still siblings. So, I dance my way through two dances, fielding the same questions.
Why were you holding hands?
Are you dating? How long has this been going on?
I thought you hated the guy. What happened?
Is it serious?
Julia was the only one to veer off-course with, “Well, he’s way better looking than Shannon.”
It was surprisingly less uncomfortable than I imagined it would be. Much less so than the actual dancing. I gave each of them a final twirl, as previously instructed—like they think I have two left feet because, in all fairness, I do—and was left with whispered demands of, “You’d better introduce me.”
I walked off the dance floor feeling dizzy only to run into my mother for the third round of interrogations. She looked confused about why she hadn’t met him yet if I was ‘sort of dating him.’
“Well, does he want to come sit and eat cake with us?” was her final take on the entire conversation. That’s it. Not even a question about why I was suddenly with a man. I will never understand the women in my family.
“Mom…I don’t know. Can I just go find him? Why don’t you talk to Aunt Charlotte? I think she was looking for you.”
Making my way through the crowd, I shake hands and offer thanks for congratulations as I search for Andrew. It shouldn’t be so difficult to find the only man wearing a Western cowboy-style shirt at a formal wedding reception.
I finally find him at a table with my great-aunt Katherine and great-uncle Louis. He has a chair pulled up between their two wheelchairs and is listening intently to whatever my aunt is saying. He glances up as though he senses my presence, which sends a rush of shivers over my skin, and smiles.
“Never go to bed angry,” Aunt Katherine stresses to him with her bony hand.
Uncle Louis adds, “And always kiss her goodnight.”
“That sounds like excellent advice,” he agrees, patting them both gently on the shoulders as he gets up.
Quirking my brows at him, I don’t get any sort of explanation other than a smile. Bending down, I place a kiss on my aunt’s cheek and speak loud enough so she’ll hear me. “You look very nice tonight, Aunt Katherine.”
She eyes me up and down for a second. “Thank you.”
I nod and then look at Andrew, hoping he’s up for escaping with me momentarily. Something latches onto my wrist, however.
“Bobby,” Aunt Katherine calls up to me. “Tell your mother that I want to be home by seven o’clock. I have to feed Biscuit.”
Biscuit?What the hell is a Biscuit?
“Her cat,” Andrew supplies.
I’m pretty sure Biscuit had a different name the last time I saw her. Also, I look nothing like my cousin Bobby. He’s bald and has a mustache.
“Um, sure. Okay.” I pat her hand and glance around for my cousin or his mother, except then I feel something tug my other wrist as soon as she lets go.
It’s Andrew, angling his head toward the door. “Her daughter literally just told her she’d get her home in time like five minutes ago,” he confides to me under his breath. “Come on,Bobby. Walk me to my car?”
He smirks at his own joke, but my heart sinks hearing that he’s leaving. I nod, though, making my way toward the door with him. He stops and picks up what looks like a keyboard carrying case, slinging it over his shoulder. There’s an amp too, which he grabs with his other hand and then checks to see if I’m following him as he heads outside.
“What’s with the gear? Is it Renegade stuff?”
He chuckles and kicks a rock across the parking lot, his cheeks turning pink. “Well, to tell you the truth, I didn’t think Mason was coming. He said he couldn’t make it when I called him the other day.” Glancing at me sheepishly, he continues and holds out an arm. “So, the best I could come up with was a one-man band. I just overestimated what one should wear to a barn.”
