Chapter Nineteen #2
She rolls out dough that’s as flat as I’ve ever seen, but I don’t question it.
“If you have the right look, you can get almost anything. That’s what Mama believed.
Anything but a loving and monogamous marriage, anyway.
Money was never worth it to me, and I’ve never been big on power. They can keep it all.”
“Tell me somethin’ scandalous,” she says and leans forward, the dough forgotten now. “I love those housewives’ reality shows. How true are they?”
Her excitement makes me giggle. “I’d say about half and half.
” Looking up at the ceiling, I try to think of something she’d like to hear about.
“Okay, I have two stories. A powerful socialite, whose father owned some of the largest law firms in Chicago, LA, and New York, got pregnant by a common man her father didn’t approve of.
She refused to, um, not have the child, so her father joined companies with his competitor in order to agree to have his son marry the socialite and claim the child as his own.
Let’s just say, there were certain attributes about the child that made the story not so believable. ”
“They didn’t think…?”
“The common man she thought was the father, was in fact not the father. It was a random one-night stand, and the father of the child was actually from a family higher than hers. He refuses to acknowledge her or the child, and even got out of taking a paternity test.”
She nearly claps with excitement. “No!”
“And then Kevin’s father, Arnold, is a notorious playboy.
More women than you can count, honestly.
I don’t know how he hasn’t caught something and made it fall off yet, but he’s had affairs on pretty much every continent.
We met at a party that Kevin took me to, but I was alone when he saw me.
Arnold hit on me and tried to convince me to be his newest mistress. ”
“You’re kiddin’.”
“I’m not. And this wasn’t the first time he’s done it because Kevin wasn’t even surprised.”
“Pull up a picture of him. I want to see this family!”
Reaching into my purse, I pull out my phone. “I bet I can find at least thirty on the internet.”
“Brynlee?”
I look up to see her studying me. It’s clear where Rhett gets his intense gazes from. “Yes?”
“I want you to be completely honest with me. Rhett doesn’t have a lot of money, and I know you don’t work. Not in town, at least.”
Isn’t it normally the girl’s family who has the what do you bring to the table interrogation?
My stomach flutters, and I feel nauseous.
I thought I’d gotten over my nervous stomach years ago, but it’s the same feeling I’ve had since Rhett invited me to dinner with his family.
Nothing in my life has ever felt this important before.
“I have my own money and my own consulting business. I’m not looking for someone to take care of me. That’s what I left back in Chicago.”
“And you really care about Rhett?” Lydia asks, her eyes never leaving me.
Care about him? How about being madly in love with him? Something that’s killing me to wait for him to say first. “I do.”
“Why?”
“Why not?” I ask, not really sure how to answer that.
A smile spreads on her face. “Good answer.”
“He’s genuine. He makes me feel like a princess.
Not like he’s going to take care of me, but by doing little things.
And it doesn’t hurt that he takes care of the spiders and mice around the house.
I can’t… It’s… not a thing I can do,” I say and shudder.
“He’s gotten to know me and learn things about me no one else cared to.
The important things. And I really like how he looks at me.
How safe I feel with him. That’s more than just because I look good on his arm. ”
“You’re in love with him.”
Snorting, I try to figure out how to hide this. The best I can come up with is a pathetic, “What?”
“I see it. The way you smile as you talk about him. You love my son.”
“I haven’t said it yet,” I whisper and look over my shoulder. “I’m waiting for him. Wait, you see it?”
She nods. “Yes.”
Then he doesn’t feel the same because I’m clearly not doing a decent job hiding it. I sigh and slouch. Sit up straight, darling. No one wants a hunchback. “I’m not sure we’re on the same page about that. I’m giving it some time, so please don’t tell him.”
“As long as you show me a picture of the man who was supposed to be your father-in-law but wanted to be your sugar daddy instead.”
Laughing, I search on the web browser. I gasp and click on a link. “No. No, no, no, no.”
“What’s wrong?”
I close my eyes and take deep breaths as the panic washes over me. “I have to talk to Kevin. I haven’t spoken to him since before I left my ring and a note telling him it was over. But his… argh!”
“What?”
Showing her the screen, I want to scream. “He hasn’t told anyone I left him months ago, and the wedding’s off.”
“That is a handsome man.”
“And arrogant and philandering. Why wouldn’t he… Oh my gosh!”
“What?”
Hanging my head, I want to burst into tears. He thinks so little of me. “He hasn’t told anyone we’re not getting married anymore because he expects me to come crawling back. I’d bet money that he believes I can’t make it without him and his family.”
“You think so?”
“This is classic Kevin Sandoval. He thinks he can have whatever he wants, and calling off the wedding would be embarrassing. Instead, he’s banking on me failing to go out on my own. This way, he doesn’t have to tell anyone because he thinks I’ll be back in time to get married.”
“No one would notice you’ve been gone?”
I laugh and try to keep the angry tears at bay. “No, they wouldn’t. I don’t want to talk to him, but I have to. This isn’t okay.”
The two boys who ran outside run back in, playing their game of what appears to be a variation of tag, and one pulls out a chair to stop the other.
The boy trips on it, and his hands reach out desperately for something to break his fall.
The thing his small hands grip is a large bowl filled with flour, tipping it and causing it to fly through the air.
As it does, most of the powder lands on me, covering my hair, face, and dress.
“Thomas Jonathan and Riley Martin!” Lydia shouts, her voice louder and angrier than I would’ve expected, and even I jump.
This must be uncommon because all noise ceases, and everyone runs into the kitchen. I hear a collective gasp behind me as I wipe flour from my eyes, but I remain as still as possible to avoid making more of a mess. If it’s even possible.
“You’re both grounded,” Gemma shouts.
I feel bad for them. Their middle names were yelled by Grandma. That’s never good from everything I’ve seen in movies, and it rings true as both boys cry.
“We didn’t mean to,” one says with a high-pitched whine.
“I told you stay out of the kitchen,” she says and points at me. “Did you stay out of the kitchen?”
More crying follows with a joint, “No.”
“Are you okay?” Rhett asks, his hand gently touching my shoulder.
“I will pay for dry cleanin’. Or a new dress. God, I am so sorry, Brynlee,” Gemma says.
My shoulders shake as the laughter starts in my stomach and bubbles up. “What’s the quickest route outside to shake off?” I ask.
“I’ll take you,” Rhett says, taking my hand to guide me.
Outside, I shake like a dog coming in from the rain, and we both brush off as much flour as possible from my dress. “Your mom should really rethink having a giant bowl of flour on the counter with rambunctious kids running around,” I say, my laughter taking over.
“You’re not mad?”
“This only happens in cartoons. I’m a cartoon right now,” I say and bend over, holding my sides as tears fill my eyes from laughing so hard. A nice distraction from my angry tears minutes ago. “Oh, my sides hurt. This is amazing.”
Rhett laughs, too, and he leans against the railing of the deck. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine. But none of us will ever forget this day,” I say.
“No, we won’t,” he says, and there’s a tone in his voice. One that tells me there’s more to this than just flour covering me.
He walks inside before I can ask him, and I wonder what else could shake whatever’s bothering him if this ridiculous scene didn’t do it. I hope he talks to me soon because it’s becoming difficult not to feel like I’ve done something wrong.