“No, but I’ll get myself something.”
“Oh, no, let me.” Clark stood up. “Lager?”
“Yeah, thanks, sounds good.”
“Have a seat.” Elodie shuffled Braden down into the armchair on my right as Clark left the room. She settled onto the arm of it and brushed Braden’s unkempt hair off his forehead. “How have you been? I heard you and Holly broke up.”
Braden hadn’t really crossed me as the type who liked to be ‘mothered’ but he just sat there, seeming to enjoying Elodie’s attention. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles affectionately. “I’m fine, Elle. It was just time, that’s all.”
“Hmm,” she answered with a frown. And then, as if remembering I was there, she turned to me. “You’ve met Joss, haven’t you?”
Braden nodded, a soft, almost secret smile, curving the corners of his lips. Still, it was friendly, not sexual, and I didn’t know whether to be happy or disappointed by that. Stupid hormones. “Yeah, Jocelyn and I have met.”
I felt my brows pull together. Why did he insist on calling me Jocelyn?
The frown soon disappeared as Clark returned and conversation gained momentum. I did my best, answering their questions and reciprocating, however I was never so grateful for Ellie. She came to my rescue when her mom started asking questions about my parents, deflecting the questions easily from me to Elodie, and I sighed with relief at having escaped having to be outright rude. I thought I was doing okay. I even managed to exchange friendly, non-sexual banter with Braden.
Then we moved to the dining room for dinner.
There was just something about the laughter, all the talk and noise, as we settled around it, helping ourselves to potatoes, veg and gravy to eat with the generous servings of roast chicken Elodie had put on our plates. As I poured gravy over my dinner, their chatter, their affection, the warm normality triggered the memories…
“I invited Mitch and Arlene for dinner,” My mom said, putting out extra place settings. Dru was over for dinner since we were working on a school project together, and my dad was settling baby Beth into her high chair.
Dad sighed. “I’m glad I made plenty of chili—as it is, Mitch will probably eat it all.”
“Be nice,” Mom admonished with a small smile on her lips. “They’ll be here any minute.”
“Just saying. Guy can eat.”
Dru giggled beside me, shooting my dad an adoring look. Dru’s dad was never around so my dad was like Superman to her.
“So how’s the project coming along?” Mom asked, pouring us out orange juice.
I shot Dru a secretive smile. It wasn’t coming along at all. We’d spent the last hour gossiping about Kyle Ramsey and Jude Jeffrey. Mostly we just kept saying the word ‘Jude’ like ‘Juuude’ and giggling like idiots.
My mom snorted, catching the look. “I see.”
“Hey neighbors!” a big bellyful of joy called out as Mitch and Arlene opened the French doors, stepping inside without knocking. It was okay. We were used to their overfamiliarity since they were our only neighbors in spitting distance of the house. My mom loved their overfamiliarity. My dad? Not so much.
After a lot of greetings—Mitch and Arlene were incapable of saying ‘hello’ just once—we all finally settled around the kitchen table with my dad’s famous chili.
“Why do you never cook for me?” Arlene complained to Mitch after moaning a little inappropriately at her first taste of dad’s chili.
“You never asked.”
“I bet Sarah never has to ask Luke to cook, do you Sarah?”
My mom threw dad a wide-eyed plea for help. “Um…”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Dad, Beth’s dropped her juice.” I nodded at the floor.
Since he was closest, he reached down to pick it up.
“My dad never cooks,” Dru put in, trying to make Arlene feel better.
“See,” Mitch mumbled around his chlli. “Not just me.”