Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Mum opened the door with a wide smile, which grew as she noted my lack of Connection uniform. ‘Stacy.’ She pulled me into a hug, then turned to my boyfriend. ‘Your Excellence.’ She gave him a little bow.
‘Just Robbie is fine, Mrs Wise,’ he repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.
‘Right,’ Mum said awkwardly. ‘Sure. I don’t want to be disrespectful.’
‘You’re not.’ He smiled easily.
‘Go and sit down,’ I told Robbie. ‘I’ll help Mum serve.’ I dragged Mum into the kitchen and shut the door for extra privacy.
‘Mum,’ I hissed, dropping my voice as low as I could so I was fairly sure Robbie wouldn’t overhear.
‘His dad died when he was a teenager, and his mum died when he was born. He has no family, none. No uncles, no cousins, nothing. He comes here because he likes the idea of family, even if he’s just an observer, so just …
stop shoving his title at him. You’re not being respectful; you’re being rude.
Underlining that he doesn’t belong here. ’
‘Oh,’ she said, wringing her hands. ‘I didn’t mean to do that. Poor Robbie. He’s really got no one?’
‘He’s got me,’ I said fiercely.
Mum smiled again. ‘So he does.’ She ran an appraising eye down me. ‘Still no sex though, huh?’
‘Ugh, Mum! You’re so embarrassing!’ I grabbed one of the huge trays of pasta bake and carted it into the dining room. Rupert’s girlfriend, Ava Grey, was absent, as was Grant, Julian’s husband. On the plus side, that meant we had plenty of space around the table for once.
Mum followed me in with several loaves of baked garlic bread. I suspected she’d put more in when I said I was bringing Robbie. An ogre’s metabolism was no joke.
‘Where is everyone?’ I asked the room at large as I shovelled several spoonfuls of pasta onto my plate before doing the same for Robbie.
‘G-man’s on shift,’ Rupert said. ‘Ava’s at her dad’s today.’ He eyed me and then Robbie. He grimaced. ‘Still no shagging huh?’ He pulled out a twenty and chucked it at Julian, who pocketed it with a snigger.
Teenage me reacted without hesitation. I grabbed a slice of garlic bread and flung it at Rupe’s sniggering face. Annoyingly, he caught it and took a bite.
‘Yum. Thanks for passing me the garlic bread, Ace,’ he taunted.
‘May you choke on it,’ I muttered darkly.
Mum sighed. ‘Just because your girlfriend isn’t here to judge your behaviour, Rupert, is no reason to descend into adolescent idiocy.
And Stacy, you know better. Besides, you don’t have a ring on your finger yet Stacy, so don’t scare Robbie away until it’s set in stone.
Until then, reveal the crazy in small segments. ’
Robbie was sitting back in his chair, grinning. ‘I don’t scare easily.’
‘I don’t suppose you do,’ she said, ‘but I’m using it to make my children behave at the table, so don’t call me out on it.’
He barked a laugh. ‘Sure. Whatever works.’
‘My thoughts exactly. Now please pass me the garlic bread, Robbie.’
The rest of dinner passed with a surprising degree of civility, and after the plates were cleared Mum decided to risk it all by bringing out Scrabble. It was a four-player game, so I kindly volunteered to team up with Robbie.
‘I’ll take him,’ I said.
‘I bet you will,’ Rupert snickered.
I kicked him under the table.
‘She has a love for the word “Jo,”’ Julian warned Robbie.
‘What’s not to love?’ I objected. ‘It’s the Scottish word for love or sweetheart, and it often makes excellent use of some two-letter tight-spots.’
‘Yeah,’ Jules complained, ‘but do you need to use it every game?’
‘I don’t use it every game,’ I shot back. Then I mumbled under my breath, ‘I don’t always get a J.’
‘But if you do,’ Rupe said, rolling his eyes, ‘then it’s Jo, for sure.’
‘It has the same certainty as you spelling sex, snog or fart in a game.’ I shrugged. ‘We all have our foibles. Yours are just more annoying than mine.’
Mum shot the two of us flat, unfriendly looks. ‘Pack it in, the two of you. I know you think you’re being funny, but you’re giving me PTSD flashbacks.’ She shuddered. ‘I was delighted when the two of you moved out of your teenage years. Let’s leave them in the past, where they deserve to remain.’
‘You’ll miss it,’ Rupert said sulkily, ‘when I move out.’
The room stilled.
‘I daresay I will,’ Mum murmured, eyes fixed on her Scrabble tiles. ‘But I’ll deal with it, and no doubt I’ll spend a lot more time walking around buck naked.’
‘Mum!’ Rupert objected, covering his eyes with his hands as if he were in danger of seeing her sixty-five-year-old butt right then and there.
‘Nice move,’ I said approvingly to Mum as she put ‘Jo’ on the board.
She smiled and patted my hand. ‘Thank you, dear.’
Mum’s turn over, Rupert leaned back in his chair and flashed me a smug grin. ‘Your turn, Ace. What are you going to do now that Mum’s used your favourite word? You’ll have to come up with something original, old girl.’
‘Old girl?’ I repeated, incredulous. ‘First, we’re not in the 1940s, and secondly, you’re only four years younger than me, moron.’
‘Age is just a number,’ Rupert said loftily. ‘Wisdom, though … that’s where I’ve got you beat.’
I snorted. ‘You think wisdom is spelling “fart” on a triple word score?’ I showed Robbie my proposed word, and he shrugged and nodded in agreement. I began to get the feeling he’d never played the game before. I put my tiles down on the double-word score and swivelled the board to Julian.
‘Immature buffoonery,’ Julian agreed with a sniff, adding QUIZ to the board with the kind of smarmy triumph that suggested a twenty-point lead was imminent.
Robbie leaned closer to me, his breath warm against my ear. ‘I think your family’s adorable.’
‘That’s one word for them,’ I replied. ‘Other options include “feral,” “chaotic,” and “should be committed.”’
Rupe poked at his tiles with a frown. ‘I have terrible letters.’
‘Only a bad workman blames his tools,’ Mum reminded him.
‘Ha! As if you can talk. You actually made “Jo,” Mum. You’ve joined the dark side.’
‘A mother must occasionally side with her daughter,’ she said serenely. ‘Especially when her sons are being idiots.’ She placed another word down and turned the board to me.
‘Hey!’ said Julian. ‘I’m being sensible. Don’t tar me with Rupert’s brush. It’ll probably give me chlamydia.’
We all snickered at that.
‘Your turn, Ace,’ Robbie murmured.
I glanced down at my letters. Q, O, U, T, A, E, N.
Perfect.
I slid QUOTEN neatly across the board, connecting to Julian’s QUIZ.
Rupert blinked. ‘That’s not a word.’
‘It is,’ I said, preening. ‘It’s Scottish. Means “to reckon” or “to think.”’ I paused. ‘It’s actually no surprise you don’t know the meaning.’
He rolled his eyes at my quip. ‘You can’t keep using Scottish words just because you binge-watched Outlander,’ he complained.
‘I can and I will.’
Julian counted my score, then groaned. ‘That’s thirty-eight points. I hate you.’
‘You love me,’ I corrected.
‘Only in a familial, unavoidable way,’ he grumped.
Mum cleared her throat. ‘Speaking of unavoidable family matters,’ she began. ‘Christmas is in four months, and it’s never too early to plan. I want you all to come here this year, other halves too,’ she said pointedly, smiling at Robbie.
‘I’d love to come,’ Robbie said easily.
‘That’s what she said!’ Rupe laughed, shoving Julian with his arm. ‘Am I right?’
‘Dude, don’t say that. He’s dating our sister.’
Rupe’s grin turned sickly. ‘Solid point.’
‘Christmas dinner,’ Mum repeated loudly. ‘Here. Put it in all of your diaries now. Murder is the only reason I’ll accept for a non-attendance,’ she said, looking pointedly at me.
I expected it to feel weird that Mum was making plans on my behalf with Robbie, but the truth was, I couldn’t imagine Christmas without him, an indulgent smile on his face as he watched us all bicker like we were twelve.
I leaned against him and smiled as he wrapped an arm around me. Planning a future with Robbie just felt … right.
I might not have said the words yet, didn’t even want to solidify them in my head, yet I felt them. And I was done denying it.