16. Graham
GRAHAM
“Who else did you tell?”
“Tell what?” Dani’s playing dumb.
“You know.”
“All your brothers know. I can’t tell one person? Piper’s my ride or die.”
“And who else is she going to tell?” I demand.
“No one.”
“What about your crazy granny?”
“I don’t tell her anything important.”
“You’re not keeping up your end of the bargain,” I growl at her in the hallway outside of her parents’ condo.
“You could have declined the invite.”
“I like having your parents fawn over me.”
“There wasn’t fawning,” she argues.
“Your granny tried to get a photograph of my crotch.”
“Oh my god, I swear to god I told her not to. I am so sorry.”
“If you wanted it that bad”—I lean in to whisper—“I could have just given it to you for free.”
I smirk at the strangled little noise she makes.
“Good night, Dani,” I call over my shoulder as she stands there speechless.
I don’t know why I’m in a good mood.
Well, I’m not in a good mood, but I’m not in a bad one either.
I should be furious.
Dani’s blabbing about the kidnapping.
Alleged. There’s no proof.
But maybe I should go ahead and engage a legal firm just to be on the safe side...
No. No one can know.
I’m still hoping that this will all just go away.
And—what? That Dani will go away?
At the end of the evening, when her dad pulled out the family photo albums while Dani begged him to stop, it almost—almost—felt real.
That was dangerous.
That’s getting into Dad territory, thinking the girl you victimized is falling for you. Or that you’re falling for her.
Dad certainly believed, even as he was being hauled away to rot in prison, that he was in love with all six of the girls he kidnapped. Even though I knew the hell he put them through.
You don’t put people through the type of hell he did if you actually love them.
But I’m not putting Dani through any sort of hell. She wants me around her.
It’s a dangerous line of thought. And that makes it enticing.
I wish she came home with me tonight.
Why? So you can watch her sleep?
Yeah.
My phone rings.
It’s my mother.
A shocking reminder of what’s at stake if I start to lose my mind.
She doesn’t leave a voicemail.
Mom: Dinner tomorrow?
I stand there in the dark foyer trying to compose a message that says something to the effect of: I’m busy—legitimately busy—and I’m not blowing you off, please don’t hate me.
Mom: Our treat.
Fuck. It’s with both of them.
My heart skips.
Do they know? Did they find out?
Then they wouldn’t be inviting you for dinner, idiot.
“This is way too much family time,” I mutter to myself as I wait for my parents outside the front of the restaurant in the cold winter evening.
I know my stepdad’s going to be early, therefore I have to be earlier than him, so I’ve been standing out here for the last half hour because I do not want to start this interrogation—excuse me, dinner—on the wrong foot.
“I didn’t think you’d be early.”
“When you’re on time, you’re late,” I reply.
“You see,” Frank tells Mom. “We should have left early.”
She rolls her eyes and pats his arm affectionately. “You boys.”
This isn’t a fancy restaurant. It’s a hole-in-the-wall place filled with honest, hardworking people, as Frank likes to say.
“You could have changed out of that monkey suit. Do you ever wear real clothes?” Frank asks when we all sit down.
“This is the only place in New York City where you can get a halfway decent Philly cheesesteak,” Frank says after we order at the counter.
“You feeling homesick?” I ask Frank.
“Nope. Going back next weekend for the Eagles game.”
“He really is enjoying your birthday present to him—wait, our present.” Mom winks. “I got him an Eagles mug, so we basically did a joint present—right?”
“You should come to a game,” Frank offers, but he doesn’t really mean it. He likes to go with Ryan and Max and Sean, and I only bought a four-person season-ticket package to avoid Frank feeling obligated.
“I’m busy.”
“You always work so hard. You don’t need to keep paying for things. We could have gotten dinner.” Mom carefully folds up her paper straw.
“I get credit card points.”
The server brings over our beers.
“Bet you’d rather have that—what was that fancy drink you brought over Christmas?”
“Sake,” I say smoothly.
“You liked it,” Mom reminds Frank. “He liked it,” she tells me.
My stepdad gives me a sour look.
“I don’t mind it here. This is Dani’s favorite cheesesteak place. I should pick her up something before we leave.”
Frank scowls.
Gotcha.
“He’s in a bit of a mood tonight,” Mom tells me. “Don’t mind Frank. Ryan laid into us yesterday.”
“Oh.” I frown, my brain kicking into high gear to figure out what had gone wrong so I could fix it before it blew up into a huge problem.
“About what? I told him I’d pay for his wedding—whatever they want.
And I met with the VP of StreetAI where Claire works and mentioned that she ought to be fast-tracked for a promotion. ”
“They’re fine,” Mom assures me. “He was mad about you.”
Fuck.
“I didn’t do anything to him.” The words come out in a rush.
“I know you didn’t do anything,” Frank snaps. “He’s mad about…” He hesitates.
I wonder suddenly if my mom knows about his little surprise visit.
“He’s mad about brunch,” Mom admits. “He thinks that I wasn’t welcoming enough.
Ryan thinks that I’m going to scare off Dani.
Me! I’m the fun mom. Everyone likes me. We’re the neighborhood hangout house.
We had all of Max’s hockey team over this weekend, for god’s sake. And he thinks Dani doesn’t like me.”
“Of course she likes you,” I promise Mom.
“See,” Mom says to Frank. “See? Ryan’s just catastrophizing. He’s just like your dad.”
Not Dad-dad. Frank-dad.
“He wants you and him to have kids at the same time. Thinks it would be fun for cousins to grow up together, and I’m ruining the plan.”
Children with Dani?
Horrible idea.
Though they probably would be cute. Those baby pictures of her with all the curls and the gap-toothed smile…
“Look, I know we’re worried about you and relationships for obvious reasons.” Mom takes a deep breath. “But Ryan thinks that maybe we jumped the gun. He thinks that Dani is good for you. He says you look more relaxed when you’re with her. She’s been posting photos of you.” Mom shows me her phone.
There’s a candid shot of me and Dani at the Svensson Investment party. There’s the one of her and me on the couch when she’s got half the pastry in her mouth. Then there are several drunken selfies of her and me at dinner with her grandmother. And of course the shots of the dinner with her parents.
Damn, it almost does look like we’re in a real relationship.
Mom gives me a guilty smile. “She obviously likes you a lot and sees something good in you—and not just your wallet, since she’s from a good family.”
Keep your face neutral.
“And so we were thinking”—she grabs Frank’s hand—“that you should invite her to the house this weekend for the cookout with all of the family. She can meet everyone.”
“I don’t know…”
“We’ll make a better first impression,” Mom promises. “I’m the cool mom, remember? I can be fun!”
“You’re serious about her, right?” Frank demands. “This isn’t some casual thing, and then you’re going to break her heart?”
“No, of course not. I could never hurt her.”
I’m certain he can read the lie on my face.