Caylee asks. “Connie never told us.”
“Connie?” I quip, giving Connor a raised eyebrow. He glowers but doesn’t correct his sister, which tells me more than ever about them. “Well, I’ve done a lot of things, to be honest. But I’m an author working on my second book, Trouble in Great Falls.”
“Is that so?” Debra asks, but a second later, her eyes widen. “Wait . . . you’re that Poppy Woodstock? I read your book! Connor, how did you find yourself a gem like her?”
“I’d say he stole me more than anything else,” I tease Connor, who growls, though I’m not sure if it’s at my tease about stealing or his mom’s implication that he could never score a find like me. “Seriously, how could I have resisted this big glowery look of his? And I take it as a personal challenge to massage away that frown line on his forehead.” I play the odds and gently run my finger along the line in question, feeling victorious when he doesn’t flinch away but instead stares directly into my eyes, allowing it.
“Good luck with that,” Caylee says. “Connor’s had that since I was a baby, at least.”
“Speaking of babies . . .” Debra says, and I have to snort as Caylee puts on an expression that makes her look so much like her brother it’s scary.
“Mom, repeat after me,” Caylee says, taking Evan’s hand. “Wedding, honeymoon, and then, sometime in the future, babies.” It sounds as though they’ve had this conversation before. “But if you keep asking, I’m going to be forced to tell you, in detail, about all the ways we’re ‘practicing’, and neither of us wants that. Keep your nose out of my uterus, and I promise I’ll tell you when there’s something to tell.”
“Caylee,” Debra gasps. I swear if she had on pearls, she’d be clutching them.
But Caylee shrugs, “You’re the one who asked about the potential results of my sex life at the dinner table. You get what you get.”
I make several mental notes, wishing I could write them down because Caylee is character inspiration come to life and sitting across the table from me. I’m in writer heaven.
Small talk continues, with Caylee getting asked a lot about the wedding without another mention of babies while Caylee and Debra both toss questions my way about me and Connor. Connor answers most of them, but I deal with more than my fair share as well. It’s fun, vibing with Connor and trying to weave my truth into the fictions that Connor may have told his family.
Thankfully, his lack of communication with them leaves me plenty of holes to slip my facts into. One strange thing, though, is how Robert Bradley doesn’t say anything. In fact, Connor’s father has been silent since I shook his hand, and even then, I think he only offered it out of social habit.
Since then, he’s appeared distant, merely sipping on his drink and shifting food around his plate. Connor isn’t really all that much better except when someone speaks to him directly, though I’ve seen him giving that patented glare to his dad a couple of times. They’re obviously not close, and Connor said as much when we were talking about what to expect tonight, but I didn’t expect this degree of ice between the two men.
Actually, it’s not just between them. There seems to be a thick wall around Robert Bradley that keeps everyone at arm’s length. He’s practically an island in the room with his own family. Ironically, as much as that seems to bother Connor, he’s doing the same thing to his mother and sister.
We’re mid-meal when the doorbell rings. Connor instantly tenses up at my side, and I don’t understand why. I look at him questioningly, and he seems to be consciously choosing to relax. His shoulders drop incrementally, his jaw unclenches, and he takes a deep breath.
“Who’s that?” Robert says, his first words since sitting down.
“I’ll go see,” Debra says, getting up from the table. She goes into the foyer, and moments later, we can hear her surprised greeting. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you for a few more days. We were right in the middle of dinner.”
Another female voice says, “Good. I’m starving. I’m sure you’ve got something worth eating.”
The tension around the whole table ratchets up at that voice. Well, I don’t get more tense, but that’s because I have no idea what the hell’s going on. I seriously feel like I just got dropped into one of