Chapter 25
APRIL
Spencer
I really want us to talk, but I can’t leave Hadley. I know you hate me right now, but she will only eat macaroni and cheese, but she says I don’t seem to make it the way you do…
That’s because you use the box stuff.
It’s simple.
It’s typical.
Tell me what to do?
You’ll actually attempt to make it?
Well… I mean… I’ll try.
Great, let’s call the Lake Spark fire department while we're at it.
See? This isn’t so bad… talking.
It’s texting.
So agreeable.
You almost had me sending the secret recipe. I mean, you love secrets.
Igrowl at our text conversation from earlier today. He never responded after that, but it doesn’t matter, because here I am in Piper’s kitchen whisking a cheese sauce. I faltered halfway through the text conversation, got in my car half an hour later, and drove up to Lake Spark.
“Remind me again why you are here instead of the house next door?” Piper throws a thumb over her shoulder as she twirls on the stool at the kitchen island in her home.
“That would mean extra time with his eyes on me, and I’m just going to drop this off and get right back into my car.” I whisk with more aggression.
Piper snorts a laugh. “You drove all the way up here to deliver macaroni and cheese, don’t tell me you don’t want to hear him out.”
I grab a casserole dish. “You know what he did.” There is scorn in my voice.
She shakes her head in astonishment at me. “I see it more as he tricked you, not exactly lied. He was able to do that because you let him lead the way, and you didn’t seem that bothered about the video.”
“Because he was taking care of it.”
“And you felt safe enough for him to do so, there was trust already there.”
“It’s not about the video,” I acknowledge and pour cooked pasta into the oven dish. “It’s the concept of lying.”
Piper slams her hands down on the counter. “Yet here you are because I think you want to hear him out and are using macaroni and cheese as an excuse.”
“Hadley is probably starving because Spencer is incapable of cooking,” I justify and point a wooden spoon at Piper.
“Fine, since you are doing this all in the name of the kiddo, I’ll deliver the macaroni and cheese.” She’s testing me.
I shrug my shoulder and stare at my creation. “I mean, I should do it. I need to explain the re-heating instructions.”
“Really? So you will see him and talk?”
Growling a sound as I grab the box of crackers, I admit defeat. “I’ll give him exactly thirty seconds.”
“You can do a lot in thirty seconds,” she deadpans.
I throw her a warning glare and begin to crumble crackers over the top.
“Are you actually adding cheesy crackers to the dish?” Piper seems mortified.
“Yes, it adds texture and flavor.”
Piper seems to shudder with slight disgust, and she attempts to reach across the counter to grab my hand, but we're too far apart. “April, you’ve been happy. At least talk, I know you want to, otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten in your car at the speed of light.”
“I want to be stubborn, thank you very much.” Placing the dish into the oven, I set the timer and then wipe my hands together in accomplishment.
“You’re both bickering, not fighting. I understand where you are coming from, but it’s not about what happened, it’s about where you end up.”
I sigh because I know she's right, and if I’m being honest with myself, I miss Spencer, even though it’s only been two days since I saw him. I’m sure his intentions were somewhat noble, although poorly executed.
“I’m kind of scared.” My admission surprises me. “I don’t want it to end, but maybe that desire is so strong that I fail to see a sign that we won’t work in the long run. It happened before.”
Piper rests her chin on her propped arm with a sly smile. “Maybe you will find the puzzle piece to answer that. Sometimes we only find those pieces by listening.”
She’s right. It’s irritating because I feel like marriage and motherhood turned her into a confident wizard.
And hopefully one day, I can see relationships from her angle.
Nervously, I look at the oven timer, knowing every minute brings me closer to seeing Spencer.
Even though I have the security code, I press the doorbell. He doesn’t know I'm in Lake Spark since we had radio silence after this morning’s text chat.
Glancing down at Pickles under the porch light, I warn him, “Don’t look at me like that. You’re not right.” He woofs a sound.
The moment Spencer opens the door, my throat feels tight, and I'm unable to speak, as my heart wants to burst out of my chest, and I can't tear my eyes away from his that are glimmering with hope, and the white t-shirt he has on only adds to the chiseled-muscle, haven’t-slept look.
He has clearly had a few days of turmoil.
“April, you’re here.” A smile tugs on his lips, but he’s unsure.
Remembering why I am here, I clear my throat and hold up the casserole dish. “Well, I can’t have you burning down your perfect kitchen now, can I?”
“Macaroni and cheese?” He opens the door wide, stepping aside to allow me to come in. Pickles heads straight to his spot on the couch.
“Yeah. It’s crackers, by the way… the secret ingredient, I mean,” I say as I walk straight to the kitchen, and I feel his presence behind me, a heavy cloud of mixed hurt and desire.
“Odd, but okay.”
I set the dish down next to the stove. “I can write down the instructions for re-heating since Hadley is asleep. I’m going to assume Hadley and the macaroni and cheese was a ploy?” I give him a knowing glare.
He smiles awkwardly and rubs a hand across his short-scuffed chin. “Yet here you are, knowing me so well.”
Damn it, so true. Deep down I knew the chances of Hadley having a meltdown today of all days were slim, it’s the oldest trick in the book, and I willingly played along.
“I’ll head back after I write down those instructions.”
“Like hell you are.” He’s direct and sharp. “It’s dark out, and you’re not driving back.”
“Fine. I’ll stay in the guest room. I’m familiar with that room.” Again, I knew this would probably happen too.
A long silence overcomes us as our eyes lock and don’t let go. We’re lingering in an inevitable.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Can we talk?”
I fold my arms. “Might as well, since I’m here.”
My demeanor amuses him, I can tell. He walks to his wine fridge to pull out a bottle of white. I recognize the bottle, as it’s from Olive Owl, the winery of my cousin’s wife’s family.
“Let’s go outside, I’ll turn on the fire. It’s better if we talk there.”
I nod, as it doesn’t sound like a terrible suggestion, but I stop in my tracks when I see he finally hung the photos from the photo shoot.
“See? Perfect décor for the place.” I still when I see he added a photo of the three of us along the line of photos.
I want to smile but remember why I'm here. I know he's watching me, though.
A few minutes later, we are outside on the patio with the dark lake ahead. The glow of the fire and light from inside the house ensures we can see one another as we sit on the same sofa, but with enough distance between us. With glasses of wine in hand, I notice how beautiful this scene is.
“How come we’ve never really sat out here?” I wonder.
“Because we run a risk of you swimming in the lake,” he jokes.
I take a sip of the wine. “I guess we stick to the swimming pool, the kitchen, and the bedroom.”
“Not bad, but here we are now.”
“Why do I feel like the video thing is the least of our worries?” A heavy feeling hits me that in the grand scheme of things, it’s minor.
“Probably because it is, or maybe because you knew I always did everything in my power to protect you so the video wouldn’t be leaked. Okay, I delayed some information, but it was only because you grew on me faster than I could have imagined, and I couldn’t think clearly.”
The sincerity in his tone pulls near my heart, our eyes holding again.
“Does my mom know? Is that why you two were talking so close the other night?”
A laugh escapes him. “About the sex tape? Nah, she doesn’t know.”
“Oh, okay. Guess I can go back to being the golden only child again,” I attempt to joke and swirl the wine in my glass.
“She knows something else, though, and I want to lay everything on the line because I don’t want to lie to you, because we are going somewhere.” I sense that he is about to burst.
I don’t want to make this hard for us. “You mentioned you wanted to share something else, but I may have been a little hasty in my 'get out of my apartment' spiel,” I say, admitting defeat.
Spencer takes hold of my wine glass and sets it on the low table, along with his own glass, before scooting closer to me on the sofa.
“You’re right. Honesty is important, and I don’t want to lose you, so I…” He interlaces our fingers and focuses on our connection. “I need to tell you the truth about Hadley.”
“What about Hadley?”
His eyes strike up and pierce with so much emotion that it spills into me when he says, “Hadley isn’t my daughter.”