slightly as she leans into the room. She’s got a glass of white wine precariously balanced in one hand, a pair of towels in the other. “I see you made it up the hill. These are for you two.”
There isn’t a shred of sincerity in her hollow voice, but the words that come out of her mouth are probably the most genuine in nature that she’s uttered my direction in the past decade. It’s not a ‘glad you could make it,’ or ‘happy you had a safe drive,’ but it’s something.
“Margaret.” She looks toward Ran. “Is this Ransom?”
I want to spit something snide like, ‘No, this is just some random guy I found hitch-hiking,’ but I dive in full-force with the tongue biting and say, “Yes.”
“Nice to meet you, Ransom.” She bats her false eyelashes and purses her lips. “You look old enough to drink—would you like a drink?”
“No thank you, Ma’am.” See, now that is the appropriate use of the word ma’am. “Thank you for having us up for the weekend.”
“Mm-hmm,” she mutters and it’s not a ‘you’re welcome,’ but I think it’s the closest thing we’ll get to one. “Dinner is at 5:00. Cocktails at 4:00.”
“Cocktails? Isn’t it just you, Sterling, and the kids?” I ask.
My mom swivels her hips around and heads toward the door. “No, we have some friends from the country club that will come over to join us tonight for dinner. Wear something nice. We’ll see you downstairs at 5:00.”
And then she shuts the door behind her.
“What was that about?” I gape, slumping onto the corner of the bed. “Do you think all of her children are tucked away behind the other bedroom doors? Is that what this is? Some kind of holding cell until we are allowed to come out and show our faces?”
“I honestly have no clue.” Without asking, Ran unzips my bag and begins to unpack my belongings, placing them into the dresser along the wall. He shoves my sweaters, jeans, and pajamas into one drawer and then reaches out to pull the remaining contents when his hands find it. “Maggie, what’s this?” His eyes are huge on his face and he runs his free hand nervously through his perfectly tousled hair. “What is this, Maggie?”
“Nothing.” I jump from my seat and launch toward him, but he stretches up on toe, his arm extended to its full length like he’s playing keep away. My triangle bikini top dangles overhead. “Give that back.”
“Oh Maggie, this is not good.”
“Give it back, Ran!” I demand, but he fends me off with his left forearm.
“Do you realize what you’re doing to me with this?”
“It’s not even mine,” I defend. “It’s Cora’s.”
Ran looks up at the hot pink strip of fabric and glances back my direction. “I owe Cora a huge thank you.”
“Shut it, Ran! Just give it back to me.”
He shoots me a grin that makes me melt, even though I’m still pretending to be furious with him. It really isn’t fair how he does that. “I’ll give it back to you on one condition.”
“And that would be?” I plant my hands firmly on my hips and summon my most intimidating snarl, but I know I’m not pulling it off in the slightest.
“That I get to see you in it.”
I stomp a foot to add drama to my mini tantrum. “I don’t even know if they have a hot tub.”
“Oh don’t worry, we’ll find a hot tub.”
“Fine,” I mutter.
“What was that? I couldn’t really hear you.” He waves my swimsuit like a taunting flag.
“I said fine!” I swat at the strap and he drops it into my hands. I immediately yank open the dresser drawer and bury it under the rest of my clothes.
“You got anything else in there?” Ran angles his head and squints one eye toward my suitcase.
“Don’t you have some unpacking to do?”
“Nothing in my luggage is anywhere near that exciting.” He drags his finger over the zipper to my luggage again. “You sure there isn’t anything else?”
“Go unpack.”
“Alright.” Ran backs away from me and pulls on the handle to the door. “I think I’m actually going to go lie down before dinner. Too many late shifts this week.”
“I’ll wake you in time,” I say as he walks toward the door. “And Ran?
“Yeah?” He turns around to face me.
“Thank you, I think. I don’t hold much hope for this weekend, but thank you for making me at least try to do this.”
“You’re welcome, Maggie,” Ran says. He traces the outline of his