Page 46 of Valentine Dare

I backed away, hearing his name, and even the idea of us getting married. “Kurt. He spat on me at school.”

She nodded her head. “I know, and he’s sorry about what he did. People do stupid things when they’re scared and nervous. He said he was sorry, and once it’s all cleared, he wants this to be a thing of the past too.”

She put her arms around me, and I didn’t return the embrace because I wondered for a split second if I’d heard her correctly.

Did she say she spoke to him?

“So, you went to see Kurt before me?”

I pulled away from her, trying to stop her dark eyes hypnotizing and confusing me.

“Your father, I and his parents. We all sat down with the lawyers trying to figure out how we can all sort out this mess. We all just want this thing to go away.”

“The things they said about dad, they’re true aren’t they? I’m not completely naive or stupid to believe that the FBI randomly made up these charges.”

She smiled as she stroked my face once again. Maybe one time I would have found it comforting, but right now it was annoying me, and the more she did it, the more I backed away from her.

“Oh my, you really have grown up in a short space of time. Does it matter dear? Don’t you want things to go back to the way they were?”

I couldn’t answer her, as I turned my back and faced the meatloaf. I remembered what I planned to do today, and I wanted us to sit down and eat as a family, but even as she said, she was my mom. I’d forgotten my original plan, and the painful truth of it all hit me.

I turned to face her and smiled, saying, “Let’s eat.”

Maybe I didn’t just have a narcissistic ex-boyfriend, but parents too. I would play their game, make out I was stupid and naive and figure out if she really was telling the truth, because as much as she was smiling and telling me that everything was going to be okay, my gut feeling was telling me not to believe her.

* * *

The food wasn’t asnice as I’d hoped it would be. It wasn’t a complete disaster, but it was enough to let me know that I wouldn’t be making Chef of the Year. I still had a long way to go. I was seated at the head of the table. Claire was opposite me. Trent and Brent on either side, and Prent and Tracey were opposite each other. Mom was squeezed at the corner of the table. It was only meant for six people. She was a guest, and I could tell by the way she shifted in her chair, she didn’t like it one little bit, which was amusing in a way.

“It wasn’t that good, was it?” I asked, as everyone smiled and ate in silence. It was clear mom’s presence had changed the way we normally chatted during a meal.

Prent offered, “I mean, it wasn’t that bad. I ate it. The mashed potatoes, they were to die for. Shit, I wish there was more.”

“Language!” Claire shouted out and we laughed, well, everyone apart from me.

“Tracey made that, and the salad which everyone finished quickly. The only thing I made was the meatloaf. And before you say anything, Brent, Tracey made the rice too.”

“It was only white rice. No need to be so dramatic Jenny. It was no big deal.” Claire said, after wiping her mouth with her napkin.

She pointed to Trent. “Pass me the meatloaf. I want more. All the love and time you spent on it. Seriously, you did a good job.”

I smiled at her as Trent passed the meatloaf. Before doing so, he filled his plate. Pretty soon, everyone else was doing it and laughing. The meatloaf needed a little salt and could have done with whatever herbs and spices Tracey put in the mashed potatoes, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought. It wasn’t the best in the world, but with a little black pepper and salt, I think Martha Stewart would be proud.

As everyone ate, the table turned from being a quiet one to a chatty one, the type I was used to. Tracey was going to a barbecue to help raise money for the needy, and I wasn’t sure about making a plate of something, but with her confidence, I decided I would give it a chance.

“Well, maybe when we’re in New York for Christmas, you can make the same thing for your father,” mom blurted out casually, and the table which was once chatty again, drew to a halt.

“New York? But he’s on bail. He can’t leave the state,” Claire said as she put down her fork. Mom shifted her eyes, avoiding the question.

“We’ll be leaving in just over two weeks. Claire, it has been nice of you to look after her, but she is our daughter. She needs to go home.”

Now, it was me asking the question. “Home?”

Mom smiled, and her eyes beamed as she said it. “Yes, home. Where your parents are. That’s the place you belong.”

Since when? Claire excused not only herself, but mom too, so they could have a chat in private. Mom was up to something, and I could tell with the way mom shifted her weight and then nodded in my direction, she was going to have her own way. I was the center of her attention right now, and I would be leaving with her, whether I liked it or not.

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