Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
SIMON
I pulled up to Rylee’s place the next day and couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across my face. She really thought I wasn’t going to call. When I did call, she acted like she was joking, and we weren’t really going anywhere. I was willing to play her game. But when I told her I would throw her over my shoulder and carry her out, she told me she was ready, and I was late.
I got out of the car and was halfway to the door when she stepped out. Seeing her dressed up a bit more than usual was the breadcrumb I needed. I wasn’t really looking forward to seeing my family, but I felt a little better having her beside me.
“Hi.” I grinned.
“If I stick out like a sore thumb at whatever event we’re going to, I will kill you,” she warned.
“Baby, you look good,” I replied, taking in the sight of her in jeans, tall boots, and a cute black top. It was dressy but not too dressy. She had toned down the makeup a little and her long black hair was left loose and natural. “You’re going to stick out, but it will have nothing to do with what you’re wearing. You’re just that hot.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she warned.
“It’s going to get me everywhere.” I winked.
“You’re wearing jeans,” she pointed out.
“Yes, yes I am.”
“And a dress shirt,” she said with a sigh. “See, I’m underdressed.”
“No, you’re not,” I said. “Get in the car.” I opened the door for her, accepting one last glare from her before she slid into the passenger’s seat.
She was putting in effort for me, and that was a good sign. All this back and forth of her pretending not to be into me had been fun, but I needed a confirmation that I wasn’t the only one feeling this way. When I told her she looked good, her cheeks turned pink, and she bashfully tucked some hair behind her ear. Yeah, she cared. Even if she wouldn’t admit it.
“Ready for an adventure?” I asked as I got into the driver’s seat.
She raised an eyebrow. “An adventure, huh? You’ve been pretty secretive about today.”
“You’ll see,” I said with a wink, enjoying the mystery I was creating.
“Is this another Nerf war? Did you close down a mall or waterpark?”
“If it was a water park, I would say we were both way overdressed,” I replied. “But that’s not a bad idea. I like it. I would get to see you in a bathing suit.”
“Not going to happen,” she muttered, but there was no bite to the comment.
As we drove to an average middle-class neighborhood, I noticed Rylee glancing around curiously. When I parked a few doors down from a two-level house with a packed driveway and a cluster of blue and green balloons attached to a lamp post, she groaned as I pulled a large, gift-wrapped box out of my trunk.
“You brought me to your nephew’s birthday party?” she asked, incredulous.
I grinned. “You weren’t expecting lunch on a yacht, were you?”
“No, but not this.”
“You don’t want to be here?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “This is better. At least I can walk out if I have to. Being on a boat with you? I’d be claustrophobic and seasick at the same time. And the only escape would be to jump into shark-infested waters. Although the sharks might be the lesser of two evils.”
“Ouch,” I said, feigning hurt.
We walked up to the front door. I knocked, praying this was not going to be a lot of drama. Luckily, Lenny was the one who answered.
“You showed up.” Lenny grinned.
“Of course, I did.”
Lenny looked at Rylee with an appreciative glance. “Hello,” he said.
“Lenny, this is Rylee. Rylee, this is Lenny, one of my oldest friends.”
“Everyone is out back,” Lenny said. “Fair warning, Connor’s mom is stressed out and running around like a chicken with her head cut off. If you don’t want to get yelled at, give her a wide berth.”
We made our way outside. There were balloons tied to tables. The backyard was decked out with various toys and games. I saw various extended family members along with people I had never met. Kids were running around, screaming and having a good time. Everything seemed normal at first. I put my present—which happened to be the largest one there—on the gift table with the others.
“Let’s see what they’re offering for food,” I said in a low voice.
I guided Rylee to the buffet setup. We grabbed fresh fruit, snacks, and some punch. I spotted my mother and headed over to introduce Rylee, but we were cut off by Matthew and Carmen.
“What are you doing here?” Carmen asked, her tone dripping with disdain.
I played dumb. “It’s my nephew’s birthday, and I was invited. Of course, I’m here. Rylee, this is my cousin Matthew and his beloved wife, Carmen.”
I laid the charm on thick, knowing it would piss Matthew off but bring me some joy. Carmen looked Rylee square in the eyes. I realized I might have made a mistake bringing Rylee into the lion’s den. They were going to take their anger for me out on her.
“Simon’s a selfish ass who is incapable of thinking of anyone but himself,” Carmen hissed. “He’s showing up just to satisfy the one person in this family who still loves him, Connor.” Rylee stared at her. Carmen turned to look at me. “But when Connor gets older, he’ll see your true colors. And then he’ll hate you too.”
She stalked off with Matthew following. Rylee’s mouth hung open as she stared after Carmen and then looked slowly up at me. I gave her a smile full of bravado.
“I should’ve warned you. Carmen is kind of obsessed with me.”
“Obsessed with hating your guts, you mean?”
“You think she hates me?” I asked innocently, but I was kidding. “She makes it so hard to tell.”
Rylee laughed, the tension in her stance dissipating a bit. “That was intense.”
“Welcome to my family.” I chuckled, but the laughter didn’t reach my eyes. This was precisely why I had avoided these gatherings for so long.
Before we could continue our conversation, a scream rang through the yard. Our heads whipped toward the source. It wasn’t out of distress, but out of joy. Connor had spotted his giant present from across the yard. Carmen scolded him when he made a beeline for the gift table, reminding him he didn’t get to open anything yet.
“Ready to meet more of my family?”
“Should we be wearing protective gear?” she quipped.
“The barbs will be directed at me,” I assured her. “I’ll block any that head your way.”
With that guarantee, Rylee seemed to relax a bit more. We began navigating the minefield of relatives, each stop filled with veiled judgments from my family, all of which I deflected with practiced ease. My uncle Mo, perpetually bitter, asked why it took me so long to show up to one of these shindigs.
I spotted my mother, who was sitting with Lenny’s girlfriend, Anna, and Marsha, my older sister. “Okay, are you ready?” I asked Rylee.
“For what?” she asked. “Are we making a run for it? Trashing the cake? Popping the balloons. From what I’m learning about you, these people seem convinced you’re going to pee in the punch bowl.”
I chuckled. “Guy pees in the punch bowl once?—”
“Who do we have here?” Mom asked.
“Mom, Marsha, Anna.” I nodded. “This is Rylee. Rylee, my mother, older sister Marsha, and you met Anna earlier.”
“Hello.” Rylee smiled.
“I’m glad you showed up,” Marsha said. “No deadbeat uncles here.”
“Never have been,” I replied.
“Have a seat.” Mom gestured to the empty chairs.
Rylee and I sat down. Mom was eyeing Rylee. “Do you live in Houston?” she asked.
“No, here, Dallas,” Rylee answered.
“Oh, when did you meet my son?”
“Recently,” Rylee replied.
“What do you do?” Mom pushed.
“Simon, come with me to get some snacks,” Marsha said, pulling my arm.
“We already ate,” I replied, not ready to leave Rylee alone with my mother.
She pulled my arm again. “Now, Simon.”
“I promise not to interrogate her,” Mom said with a laugh. “Go on.”
“Can you get me some more of those little cheese apps?” Rylee asked.
I smiled, surprised she was so relaxed. “Sure. I’ll be back in a few.”
Marsha practically dragged me away from the table. I shrugged off her hand. “What?” I snapped.
“What’s the deal with this girl?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you paying her?”
“Marsha, don’t think I won’t tell you to fuck off,” I growled. “Don’t you dare insinuate she’s a prostitute. Don’t be a bitch.”
“I’m just curious how you found a woman when you just told me you were single and not looking,” she said. “You’re pretty prickly about a woman you don’t know.”
“You don’t know what I know about her,” I retorted.
“Did you take what I said seriously when we ran into each other, or are you just doing this to try to prove to Mom that she doesn’t have to worry about you? That you’re loveable to the rest of the family?”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m not trying to prove anything, Marsha. Mind your own business for a change, will you?”
She held up her hands in surrender, the faux innocence in her eyes not fooling me one bit. “Okay, okay,” she said, “Just looking out for you, little brother.”
“Yeah well, don’t,” I replied curtly, turning to walk back to Rylee. But not before grabbing a plate full of those little cheese apps she liked.
As I navigated my way back to the table, I caught bits and pieces of conversation between Rylee and my mom. They were talking about their shared love of classic novels and Tex-Mex food. To my relief Rylee seemed comfortable enough.
I returned to the table, putting down the plate.
“Thank you.” Rylee smiled up at me.
I put my arm around Rylee’s shoulders. “Having a good time?”
“Your mom was just telling me about the time you tried to build a treehouse and ended up falling out of the tree instead,” Rylee said, grinning at me.
I groaned. “Of course, she was. Now you know why they hired someone to build a good one.”
I kept an eye on Rylee, making sure she was comfortable and having fun. She seemed to be getting along with my mother. Feeling a little more relaxed, I excused myself to get us some water. Marsha approached me again. She was watching Rylee with a thoughtful expression.
“She seems nice,” Marsha said finally.
“She is,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral.
Marsha sighed. “Look, Simon, I know we’ve had our differences, but I just want you to be happy. And if Rylee makes you happy, then I’m glad you brought her here.”
I looked at her, surprised by the sincerity in her voice. “Thanks, Marsha. That means a lot.”
“But seriously, where did you meet her?” she asked.
“At a bar,” I replied.
She let out a long sigh. “Of course.”
“Marsha, stop. Normal people meet other people at bars all the time. Get off that high horse. Would it be better if I met her at a swanky fundraiser or one of Mom’s cocktail parties?”
Marsha shrugged nonchalantly. “I suppose not.”
“Anyway, she is much more fun than those socialite airheads Mom tries to set me up with.”
“Just don’t screw this one up like you usually do, Simon,” she said. But there was a hint of concern in her voice, not the usual snide rebuke.
“No intentions of doing so,” I replied. And I meant it.