Chapter 9 #2
She turned her attention to go between Mom and Dad.
I shifted mine to Knox, who was studiously slurping up pappardelle noodles.
He was uncomfortable and I knew this because, until that point, he was completely at ease at our family table.
As such, I asked quickly, “Is this a decision that can be shared in front of company?”
Knox’s head came up.
“Company?” Dad asked, openly puzzled.
“Knox,” I said, flipping my empty fork his way.
“He’s extended family,” Mom decreed.
Both Dream and I turned to her.
“He was here for Thanksgiving, two years in a row,” Mom explained. “Nothing says family like sitting at the table for Thanksgiving dinner.”
This was true.
All of it.
Indeed, a little over a month ago, he was sitting at this very table for the second year in a row, celebrating Thanksgiving with us. So was Cap, Raye, Shirleen, her husband Moses, and Roam.
Tex and Nancy were there the year before, but last year, they went up to Denver to have Thanksgiving with Nancy’s daughters, Jet and Lottie, and their broods.
Knox smirked at me.
“This is important,” Dad said, gaining my attention. “And it’s decided. Though I don’t know why either of you would argue.”
“What’s decided?” Dream asked.
She was feeding herself and Feather (Mom had Harmony, who didn’t yet really do big people food, I was watching over Dusk).
“We had college funds set up for you,” Dad said. “Neither of you went to college.” He shook both hands in a don’t say it gesture even though no one said anything. “You both know we want nothing for you but to follow your bliss, so that was a statement, not a judgement.”
“Dad—” I tried, not thinking with this intro that this was something Knox should hear.
“So we changed them to wedding funds,” Dad spoke over me.
“But, even if your mother and I made the most beautiful memories while making each other our own on our special day, we totally understand that marriage is an antiquated concept that did not serve women well. However, if you think that’s in your future”—he gave me a close look, which meant Dream’s eyes narrowed on me—“you can elect to keep that fund where it is, and growing, until that happy day.”
That was when his focus shifted to Dream.
“But if you want it for another purpose, say, to put a down payment on a house—” he went on.
But that was as far as he got.
Dream snapped at me. “You and your big fat mouth.”
I dropped my fork in pasta, red sauce and lentils, and lifted both hands, just like she had twenty minutes ago. “I didn’t say anything.”
“I saw a Zillow listing on your tablet, dollface,” Mom told her.
“I don’t understand the vitriol,” Dad chimed in the instant Mom quit speaking. “Even if Luna had told us you were looking at houses, why couldn’t she tell us? Is it a state secret?”
“It’s my business,” Dream mumbled.
“And thirty-five thousand dollars might help you with that business,” Dad returned.
Hold up.
Thirty-five thousand dollars?
Hot damn!
I could throw a killer wedding for thirty-five K.
Yowza!
I was so caught in this exciting news, I missed Dad’s easy-going vibe slipping.
“I truly don’t understand why your first reaction is to snap something in an ugly tone at your sister,” Dad said to Dream.
“Dad—” I tried again, at the same time Mom said, “Scott.”
“Okay, then let’s talk about how you think I’m not getting married.” Dream was now snapping at Dad.
“Because you’ve repeatedly said that marriage is an antiquated concept, its sole purpose being to force women to be chattel,” Dad retorted.
As far as I remembered, she’d been saying this since she was thirteen years old.
Stymied, Dream changed tactics.
“I’d say I’m not having this conversation in front of Knox, who’s not my extended family, but I’m not going to have it at all. Ever,” Dream announced.
“Dream and I have been spending time together, Dad,” I got in. “And it’s been cool.”
“You have?” Mom asked hopefully.
I nodded to her.
“Oh my God,” Mom whispered. “That’s just…lovely news.”
“And what’s that mean?” Dream bit in Mom’s direction.
Knox, who was sitting beside her and across from me, looked at me.
I made a face at him.
He frowned.
Uh-oh.
“Nothing, sugar plum,” Mom said through our nonverbal exchange. “Two sisters enjoying time together is lovely.”
“Well, obviously you already know without asking, Luna the Magnificent instigated it,” Dream said sarcastically. “I’m sure it won’t surprise you that I didn’t reach out to her.”
At the “Luna the Magnificent,” Knox’s attention shafted in her direction.
Oh shit.
“All right. Maybe we should table this for now, and you girls can think on it and let us know which way you want to go with the money,” Dad said.
“So, when I was desperate for money, you didn’t offer up this windfall,” Dream said to Dad. “But now that Luna’s getting older, probably also thinking of buying her first place, suddenly it’s on the table?”
“It’s on the table because your mother saw that Zillow listing, Dream,” Dad stated firmly. “And I should say, yours will have the money you owe us and what you owe Luna deducted from it.”
The amount of that was nearly ten grand, which would really put a crimp in her windfall for a down payment on a house.
“Scott, we decided—” Mom started.
“Well, I changed my mind,” Dad clipped.
“It’s our money,” Mom retorted.
“Yes, as it was our money we loaned our daughter when she started popping out kids and she didn’t have a goddamned job,” Dad shot back.
Dream’s face got red.
Mom’s face got upset.
My mouth opened.
“Stop it!” I shouted.
Everyone looked at me.
“Oh my God. Yeah, she did that, Dad,” I hissed to my father.
“And we talked to her about it as a family. Now she runs two businesses and waitresses on the weekend. Look at her.” I threw my hand across the table.
“She’s losing weight. And she kicks up a fuss when anyone offers to help because we made such a big deal about it before. She got the message. Back off.”
Dad shut up.
Mom stared at me.
Knox studied me.
And, holy crap, Dream looked like she was about to cry.
Then she said, “I’m trying to lose weight, Luna.”
“Oh,” I mumbled.
“But thanks for noticing,” she went on.
“Well, if that’s what you want, you’re doing a good job,” I said.
“You think I look rundown,” she accused.
“I thought you looked tired the other day. Because maybe you were tired. And with the weight loss tacked on, I made an assumption. It wasn’t an insult.”
“Whatever,” she muttered to her pasta.
“Byron at The Surf Club wants me to set you two up on a date,” I blurted.
Knox made a noise in his throat.
Mom chirped, “Who’s this?”
“Byron,” I answered. “He’s a regular at SC.” I looked at Dream. “Since I wasn’t going to set my sister up with some dude I know but don’t really know, I made him state his case. His car is paid off. He takes out the trash without being asked. He likes kids. And he thinks you’re pretty.”
Holy cow.
Was Dream blushing?
“The guy who sits in the back corner?” she asked.
I nodded. “The one with the laptop and brown hair.”
“He’s kinda cute, but he’s not normally my thing.”
I was curious about what her thing was. I had yet to meet any of her children’s fathers. Though, in high school, she tended to date the stoners.
“Did you miss the part about taking the trash out without being asked?” I inquired, feeling Knox’s focus intense on me.
He’d done the same thing.
And the first time he did it—after he came back inside and washed his hands—I’d jumped him.
Therefore, it was some time later when I’d explained the concepts of weaponized incompetence, malicious compliance, gaslighting and unbalanced emotional and household labor, and how pleased I was that he was exhibiting traits that had nothing to do with any of those things.
And it was then I fell even more in love with him because he hadn’t made fun of any of it.
He’d listened with interest and said with a depth of sincerity that was unreal, “Call me on any of that horseshit if I fall down on the job.”
“It’s disturbing how much of a plus women think this is with men,” Dream remarked. “I mean, how basic, and we consider it a green flag when it’s a beige one. Am I right?”
“You are so right,” I muttered, avoiding Knox’s gaze.
“I very much lucked out with you,” Mom said to Dad.
Dad gave her a gentle look.
“Well, it’s not like anyone else is knocking down my door,” Dream said.
“Oh, peaches!” Mom cried. “I’m so glad you’re going to put yourself out there and have a little fun.”
Dream rolled her eyes.
“You want me to give him your number?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said, then bent over her pasta.
It was then, I chanced a glance at Knox.
He was again studiously eating his own food.
But I knew he’d listened to every word.
* * *
After dinner, when we were corralling three kids, a dog and a wounded man into two cars, was when it happened.
Dream and her brood were strapped in.
Knox had Jacques’s lead (of course).
We’d handed out goodnight hugs and cheek kisses.
And Knox and I were walking side by side to my car at the curb when he stopped dead.
Thus, I stopped dead, looked to him, then aimed my gaze where his was, only to see a car drive by very fast.
I’d seen that car before.
It was Cheyenne’s.
A shiver slid down my spine.
Mental note: I had to get Shanti to contact Jayden, ASAP.
In the now, I turned back to Knox to see his jaw hard, the muscles in it bunched and leaping.
I waited for him to say something.
He didn’t. He just resumed our stroll to the car, opened the door, Jacques jumped in, then with difficulty, he folded in.
I folded in beside him, and after turning on the car and a wave to my parents, I set us going, silent and waiting again for him to say something about Cheyenne.
He again didn’t.
Should I?
I mean, had he noticed her around before?
And now that he’d seen her himself, how did I play this?
I decided to start with, “Do you know who was in that car?”
“What car?”
Okay, so he was going to play it like I intended to play it and not mention it to me.