The Other Fish in the Sea (Grab Your Pole, #2) Page 23

Melissa and I giggled when we heard Tristan growl a little and Camie’s giggle, then, from where I can only assume was Camie’s neck or some such part of her, his muffled voice wafted down to us saying, “Take a fuckin’ look around, this is my goddamned room. And I’m sorry about this, Pete, it can’t be helped. Oh, the rest of you can fuck off…”

  His shirt landed on Pete that time.

  “Hey!”

  “Sorry, Pete, my bad!” Camie’s disembodied voice said with a definite smug quality.

  Hours and several rounds of Crazy Eights along with Go Fish later, the beeping started again. We were all talking or making-out as the case may be, having a fun and relatively normal time playing cards (as normal as it gets on a stakeout I guess), that it really took us by surprise, like we’d forgotten why we were there. I was trying to get a look at my mom’s car as she pulled out of the parking lot to see if there was anyone with her, but we were too far away and it was too dark for me to be able to distinguish anything.

  “She’s alone,” Jillian said and when I turned to ask how she could possibly know that, I saw she had some kind of small telescope in her hand that looked like it might have night vision.

  By the time we got on the road, my mom’s car was out of site but she was definitely driving in the direction of my house. I was about to start venting my frustration for not coming up with any answers when I realized we were passing the street that would lead me home. The beeping stopped as we followed the windy main road, turned onto the very familiar side street and then went down the sloping private drive. Tristan pulled off to the side, hastily threw the bus in park, then he turned to me and with our brows raised high we shared a “what the fuck” look.

  “What the fuck is she doing here?” I whispered to Tristan, desperate for him to make sense of this for me because I just cannot fathom why my mom would be here.

  Melissa and Brandon quietly climbed in the bus while everyone else was silent and still as they saw my mom’s car parked next to my boyfriend’s Jeep in the driveway of my boyfriend’s house. That is, everyone aside from Jillian. She’d immediately begun hooking up a watchamacallit, a thingamajig, and a doohickey that, within a matter of minutes, was picking up the voices from inside amid some mild static.

  “—tell her?”

  It sounded like my mom sighed. “No, I think we should do it together. I think it’ll be easier for all of us that way.”

  “You’re right about doing it together but, it’s not gonna be easy.”

  “I know…and you’re right, we shouldn’t put it off any longer. This will definitely hurt and be extremely complicated, but they need to know the truth and have all the facts.”

  “So when do you want to do it?”

  “Tomorrow. Before we leave.”

  “Alright, if you say so…but you know we may never get out of here if we do that…”

  My mom’s voice turned sultry and there were suddenly many pauses in their conversation that could only mean they were speaking in between kissing, which naturally made my stomach violently lurch. “Well…that…would be a…real shame…”

  “It certainly…would be…a shame…we can’t let…that happen…now…can we?”

  Tristan and I were staring openmouthed at each other this whole time not knowing what to say, but when the music started, drowning out their words and lip smacking, he and I both reached for our phones and immediately began dialing and/or texting like our lives depended on it.

  “Oh my God, what is that awful music?” Melissa asked, straining to hear through the static.

  “Barry White,” Tristan, Camie, Jillian, Pete, and Brandon gravely said together.

  I have no idea who or what the song is, all I know is that I recognize it as sex music from the fucking ‘70s and I have GOT to get my boyfriend out the goddamned house before my mom and his dad have sex in the living room with him just down the hall!

  Are you listening to me?! ‘70s SEX MUSIC!

  “Oh my GOD! Tristan! He won’t answer!”

  “I KNOW!”

  “Go get him!”

  “I’m not fuckin’ goin’ in there! My retinas will be scarred forever just like my goddamned ears are now!”

  “Oh shit, someone, please go get him!” Panicking, I looked at everyone in the bus, pleading with my eyes and feeling my heart begin to drop when not a one made a move to rescue Jeff from this nightmare he himself has yet to awaken to.

  Then Jillian, God bless her, made a disgusted sound and in typical haughtiness said, “Amateurs,” as she opened the passenger door and began to get out.

  “Wait! Here’s my key!”

  “I won’t be needing that,” she told me, patting her backpack, and then she disappeared into the night, becoming my dark savior yet again.

  The minutes ticked by… Camie and Melissa silently tried consoling me by rubbing my back, but all I could think about was what I knew was happening in that house and how much therapy will be needed after tonight. Maybe we can get a group discount. Then, thank the good lord above; Jillian emerged from the shadows with my beleaguered and barefooted beloved slowly trudging along behind her. As soon as he saw Jeff, Tristan started the bus and had it moving before Jeff and Jillian were even inside. Melissa and Brandon hopped out and ran to their vehicle while Pete pulled Jeff in by the arm, and Jillian somehow managed to open the passenger door and climb in on her own as Tristan got us the hell out of there.

  “Barry White…” Was all Jeff could say being as shellshocked as he was. We were pulling down into Tristan’s driveway before he could even manage that.

  We all walked into Tristan’s house, up the stairs and into his room in silence, all of us being blown away and not having any idea what to say about the immensely life altering information we’d gleaned from spying on my mom. As everyone either got comfortable on the floor or on Tristan’s bed, Jillian seemed not cold or disinterested, but kind of remote as she pulled out one of her bunny slippers from her bag and used her towel to surreptitiously wipe the tears from my eyes. When she focused her gaze on my face in a way that made me want to shake my shoulders to remove the uncomfortable sensation her eyes on me was creating, I couldn’t help but think that maybe this, the knowledge, was the price Tristan had warned me about.

  Then she went one further and shocked the living shit out of me by leaning in to whisper her words, only meaning to be heard by Jeff and me alone.

  “Parents are not perfect and you both would do well to remember that when handling what lies before you now. In addition, Proverbs two-eleven says, ‘discretion will protect you and understanding will guard you.’ Think on that before you discuss this or pass judgment.” Then she turned away like she hadn’t just given us hauntingly great advice, reciting the Bible while doing it, and continued to dig in her bag for her pajamas and her other bunny slipper.

  At the time, Jeff and I just assumed Jillian was only talking about my mom and his dad but, that wasn’t the case…not at all.

  By a silent accord there was absolutely no discussion about the events of our evening, rather, Melissa, Brandon and Pete played video games, and stretching out with her eyes closed, looking to be at perfect peace, Jillian commandeered one of Tristan’s Lovesacs. Hold on! It’s not as bad as it sounds…that’s the actual brand name of the beanbag couch/bed things, not an innuendo for a body part. Just wanted to be clear on that… Tristan and Camie curled up in his bed to watch the game play, but she was out in like twenty minutes, having been cuddled by Tristan into blissful slumber.

  Now here’s something interesting, before I joined Camie in dreamland, Jeff was cuddling me in another beanbaggy-like bed when Ferb hopped up onto us making Jeff flinch. She sniffed me once and licked my nose, then, in very atypical fashion, she head bumped Jeff and gave him a little love bite on the chin before curling up on his shoulder and spending about five minutes licking his cheek. It was really weird. It was almost like she knew he was upset and it wasn’t a good time to really bite or scratch him or puke up a furball on him as s
he’s prone to do.

  When we woke up in the morning it was sort of early so I was a little surprised to see that Jeff and I were the last ones to have done so. Everyone was down by the pool and I discovered that by reading the new writing on Tristan’s wall. Camie calls it the Wall of Infamy; I just call it his wall. It’s been there forever. His parents put it up when he and Jeff started drawing on the actual walls of his room. The boys didn’t care that they kept getting in trouble for doing it so his parents decided to make it easy for them to not get in trouble. It totally worked…they kept their drawing to that one wall and they were thrilled with being able to erase and start over. Now it serves as a hub of communication. Anyway, here’s how the short conversation read:

  Tristan’s Mom: What’s this? (I knew she was asking about the seven kids who aren’t her own crashed out in various places of her son’s bedroom by how he answered.)

  Tristan: A halfway house for disillusioned teens.

  Tristan’s Mom: I see, well breakfast will be served poolside in the morning.

  Jillian: I am not a teen nor am I disillusioned.

  Pete: You’re almost a teen.

  Tristan’s Dad: Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. Son, would you happen to know where the key to the liquor cabinet is by any chance? I wanted a nightcap last night and your mother would like a mimosa this morning.

  Jillian: It’s in the pocket of the jeans he wore last night.

  Tristan: How the hell can you possibly know that?

  Melissa: Jillian knows everything.

  Tristan: HOW Jillian?

  Jillian: Jeez, you’re cranky. I saw you put it there after you hid your baby book from Camie and Kate and you didn’t take it out when we got back last night. Plus you slept in your clothes. You didn’t change until you got up to shower this morning.

  Tristan’s Dad: Oh she’s sharp, I think I like her.

  Tristan’s Mom: I think I do too.

  Tristan: Well that’s good because she’s Camie’s sister, but be warned…she’s not anything like Camie.

  Brandon: I’d take that warning seriously, she’s damned scary.

  Camie: It’s true, she is. Will bacon be present at breakfast?

  Tristan’s Dad: Darling, if you get my son to deliver that key, I give you my word you’ll receive your eggs sunny-side up and all the bacon your pretty little heart desires.

  Camie: You had me at Darling.

  Tristan: Mom, do you think you could maybe stop Dad from flirting with my girlfriend? Thanks, you’re the best.

  Camie: If you can flirt with my dad, then yours can flirt with me. So there.

  Tristan: Touché.

  Camie: Bring the key, I want bacon.

  Tristan: Whatever you say “Darling.”

  Camie: Thanks, you’re the best.

  I was thinking breakfast actually sounded kinda good for once when my cell phone beeped reminding me I had a voicemail. Then Jeff’s did the same, only his was a text. They were from our respective parents asking us to meet them at a restaurant for brunch. I had to wake Jeff up by tickling his feet and then we both replied. Although we refused the public setting, we said we’d meet them at his house for breakfast instead. Our rationale for that was they were probably already there and it’s only like five minutes from Tristan’s. Plus, and this is the main reason, Jeff’s house isn’t neutral territory.

  We don’t know what we’re walking into exactly, but we’re going to do it hand-in-hand, presenting ourselves as the united front that we are and by golly, we’re gonna do it with the home field advantage too!

  *****

  I’ve never seen my mom look as radiant as she did that morning. I’ve also never seen Grey look so divinely gratified. As I looked at them sitting together, listening to them explain how they got together (and there was a lot, going way back to before Jeff and I were even born), I realized they looked like us. Jeff and me. It was startling and gave me pause, but when they dropped the bombshell of their intended future nuptials, Jeff and I looked at each other and I knew we were both in fast-forward.

  Jeff had his finger pointing at unseen points in the air and I could tell he was mentally drawing our would-be family tree—or more accurately stated, our family shrub—before he said, “But tha—that means I’ll be living—”

  “In ARKANSAS!” I finished for him, being just as disturbed as he.

  “Well, I was thinking of that song ‘I Am My Own Grandpa’, but Arkansas works too!”

  “You know, since you two have been so good to just now fill us in on the last twenty-some-odd years, we’d like to do the same. Mom, Grey…I’m pregnant,” I said resolutely, albeit a little irrationally.

  For the love of God! If they get married that would make Jeff my step-brother, my husband, and the father of my baby, and wouldn’t that also technically make him the baby’s uncle too? Oh my God, I’m so confused… Really, Jeff and I should just move to the Deep South and name the baby Bubba whether it’s a boy or a girl. I mean shit; our kids will have to call us Aunt Mommy and Uncle Daddy for Christ’s sake!

  “And we’re getting married with or without your consent,” Jeff added, sliding the diamond ring onto the ring finger of my left hand while I nodded firmly, thinking to myself, damned skippy!

  He’d just dug the ring out of my purse from where I’ve been carrying it around since he gave it to me the morning of Halloween. I only wear it when it’s just the two of us because with a total combined weight of four carats, it’s just a wee bit too obvious for me to pass off as anything other than what it is, you know?

  “We know and you have our consent,” my mom said while Grey nodded, making our eyes pop out of our skulls.

  “WHAT?!” That was Jeff.

  “How could you know?!” By process of elimination, you should know that was me.

  “Son, you know I get copies of your monthly estate statements and shocking as this might be to you, I do read them. You love your old Jeep so what else would you being spending that amount of money on?”

  “But h—”

  “Remember when I said there was a catalyst to my arguments with your father? Well, you two were the catalyst. He saw you both one day at a bookstore buying ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting’ and a pregnancy calendar, but rather than confronting you there at the counter, he had too much to drink and came home in a fit, rambling about how he was sick and tired of the Larson men getting the women in his life pregnant. He wanted to force you to have an aborti—”

  Jeff knocked over his chair and was on his feet in a protective stance in less than a second, the furious outrage and soul-deep hurt in his eyes had me crying. It was the same look he had on his face when I brought up the same option back in October when I found out I was pregnant and we were in that fight.

  “Calm down, Son…Valerie and I both know that isn’t an option. She went to bat for you both, and neither of us will ever force either of you to go through what we did.”

  “Wait, what? Go through what you did?” I asked, trying to calm my fiancé down by taking his hand and pulling him into the chair on the other side of me.

  “Before you answer that, I want to know what the fuck Valerie meant by the women in Sam’s life getting pregnant by Larson men,” Jeff demanded and I was so surprised I hadn’t picked up on that part of what my mom said.

  Pregnancy has really messed with my head and from what we’ve read, there’s an actual term for it...it’s called baby brain. Nice, huh? I get dumb and stretch marks.

  “He was sleeping with your mother when she got pregnant,” Grey responded carefully.

  Jeff and I were floored, but, he recovered faster than me. “Fuck me…oh God, please, please tell me Katy and I—”

  “NO. He thought he was your father…that was his true motivation for having me take that paternity test, which was more than legally sound and proved me to be your father with a ninety-nine point nine percent result.” Grey actually produced the document from his pocket and slid it across the t
able for Jeff to read before continuing. “We just found out Sam had taken one too, the test determined he was one hundred percent not your father. You and Kate are not blood related. As to what Kate was asking, well…”

  “Honey, when Grey and I were together in high school, I got pregnant right before we graduated and our parents were ah…well, to be polite, they weren’t supportive. They intervened, guilted and cajoled me into believing an abortion was for the best, and then they refused to let us see each other anymore. Grey was destined to play baseball professionally and his parents didn’t want him wasting his life on a girl. Mine thought baseball was a fool’s dream and didn’t want me wasting my life on someone with no future. When he left, I was devastated and the first person my parents threw at me was your father. He was older, came from a wealthy family back East, and he was fresh out of law school… I can’t say I would change things because then the two of you wouldn’t be sitting here in front of us, looking at each other with the love Grey and I looked at each other wi—” My mom’s words broke off and she wiped at her tears while Grey picked up where she’d left off.

  “We recognized what was happening with you two years and years ago and we decided then that we would not, under any circumstances, get in the way or try to come between the two of you. Through you, it felt like we were being given a chance to right the wrong that was done to us.”

  “Kate honey, we will support you both one hundred percent if having and keeping this baby is what you truly want, but you need to know that it won’t be easy. It will be very, very hard…on both of you.”

  “We know but, we think we can do it. We have a plan…we’ll still graduate and go to college, it just might take us longer than two people who don’t have a baby at home and that’s okay.”

  I’ll admit I was unsure about doing this when I first found out, especially because the day I’d learned I was pregnant, Jeff was being such a jackass later that night…the night of Tristan and Camie’s licorice fiasco. I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to grow up or be able to handle the real responsibility of having a baby and then I would be stuck. But, we went round and round and he insisted he could and would do whatever it takes to be not just a good father but a dependable man, all he needed was the chance to show me. So, over the last couple months, he’s been proving himself.