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“I meant to tell you,” I say apologetically. “I know the high school is your turf.”
“My turf? What is this, West Side Story?” He sets down the plates. “I forgot forks.”
I look at Mom and Rosie as I stand up to follow him into the kitchen. The drawer slams shut as I enter.
“Hey. I really was going to tell you.”
Jon whips around. “It’s fine. You don’t owe me any explanation.” I can hear his teeth grind from here. “Congratulations, by the way. I know Nick has been looking for the right fit for the team for a while. You’ll do great. You were one of the best players Ridgeview has ever had.”
I’m touched by the compliment, but it doesn’t mask the hurt and anger I see in his face. But Jon is an excellent actor, and he soon replaces his expression with a content mask.
“Thanks. First game is Saturday. You should come.” I’m as shocked by the invite as he is, but I’m not taking it back. I want him to come. “Unless you have rehearsals or something. Then obviously you can’t be in two places at once.”
“I’ll have to look at the schedule.”
It’s not much, but it’s the best we’ve done in years.
When I leave my mom’s house, it’s with a full belly and a full heart. It’s been way too long since the four of us have sat around and talked like that. Even longer since we’ve laughed like that. Have we ever laughed like that? This is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen my mom, which is good. It’s rough when she’s sad. That trip she took with her bunco group really seemed to put a pep in her step.
I send a quick text to Millie.
Mark: Just leaving my mom’s.
Millie: How did it go?
Mark: My mom knows. She saw us.
Millie: Oh.
Mark: I’m coming over. Be there in 10.
“I still can’t believe she saw us.” Millie is baffled.
I nod. I found out three hours ago, and I’m still dumbfounded.
“If she knows, then there is no way my parents don’t know.”
I nod again. “Probably.”
“But no one has said anything to us?”
“I don’t get it either.”
She stands up from the couch and starts pacing the living room.
“Unless. Unless they said something to Danny or Ashleigh,” Millie keeps mumbling to herself as she paces.
I grab her hand and steady her. “You’re going to wear a hole in the ground if you keep pacing like that.”
She stops and sits on my lap. She leans in and lays her head on my shoulder. I stroke her arm up and down.
“We need to talk to them.”
“Your parents? I agree.”
She puts her hand on my mouth stopping me. I give her fingers a little peck.
“No. I mean, yes, but I was talking about Ben and Jonathan. We need to talk to them. If our parents know, then let’s face it, most of my siblings know by now.” She looks into my eyes and I know exactly what she is thinking.
