“Oh, Kevin,” his mom finally fusses, shaking her head. Offering me an apologetic smile, she says, “Don’t mind him, dear. He’s a grump before he’s finished his morning coffee. He doesn’t mean any of that.”
“Mm hmm,” he dad mutters. “We’ll see what you say when it’s our son she’s trying to drag through the mud.”
“Would you stop it?” Carter snaps. “Jesus Christ, I’m introducing you to my girlfriend and you have to act like an ass.”
His father’s eyebrows rise, but with something closer to amusement than I would expect upon getting a lecture from his own son. “Girlfriend? Christ, what’s this girl doing to you boys to make you behave like fucking idiots?”
“Kevin,” his mother chides.
“She accuses his friend and he says ‘hey, I think I’ll make her my girlfriend.’” Kevin shakes his head. “Boy has no sense of loyalty.”
Carter’s fork drops to the plate with a clatter and he leans back in his chair. “Oh, that is rich coming from you.”
“Carter, please,” his mother says, trying to take his reins, since his father’s are clearly beyond her reach.
I get the impression that Carter’s are, too, but he must not want to bring up something he knows will pain her at the breakfast table. Shaking his head, he grabs his fork and starts eating a little faster.
“I wanna go to Disney World,” Chloe announces. “Alicia said her parents took her there, and she got to eat breakfast at the castle with princesses. Can you imagine if we lived in a castle?”
“You basically do,” I tell her, offering a little smile. “Your house is a lot bigger than mine, that’s for sure.”
“I bet it is,” Carter’s dad murmurs.
Carter’s jaw locks and he glares.
His mom fidgets with her napkin.
Yep, totally not awkward at all, Carter. Good call on making me come to family breakfast.
Carter’s mom clutches onto an invisible tangent. “Speaking of, Carter, can you take Chloe to ballet today? You’ll have to clean all that make-up off her first, she can’t go like that. I intended to take her, but I’m just too tired.”
“You’re always tired,” his dad mutters. “Never do anything, but tired all the damn time.”
With every syllable that leaves his lips, I dislike Carter’s father a little more.
“Mama does stuff,” Chloe defends. “She’s great.”
Offering a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, Angela says, “Thank you, Chloe.”
The rest of breakfast passes awkwardly, but at least it doesn’t get worse. When I’ve consumed my food as quickly as possible without appearing to be training for my career as a competitive eater, Carter walks me out to my car.
Once we’re a safe distance from the house, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and tells me, “I owe you an apology. I did not think that would go the way it did.”
I shrug, feeling relieved to be out of the house, but bad for Carter, Chloe, and Carter’s mom, because they’re all stuck here. “It’s fine. Your dad is awful though. Like, truly awful. Was not prepared for that.”
Carter shakes his head glancing back at the house. “I told you, I don’t know why she won’t leave the bastard.”
“Well… I thought you were exaggerating, but no. I don’t know why either. I would leave him, then I’d come back just so I could leave him again. Every morning, come over just to leave. Maybe after a month or so it would feel like I had left him a sufficient number of times, but… I’m not sure.”
Carter cracks a smile, then leans in and kisses me. “Well, I’m glad we got that over with, at least.”
“I have officially met the parents. I hope you don’t think we’re bringin’ the baby back here for holidays though, because… no.”
“Chloe’s gonna have a bedroom at my place in New York, we’ll invite my mom to stay on an air mattress in her room. My father can spend the holidays alone like the miserable bastard he is.”
“We’ll send him a card to thank him for the apartment, just to be polite. But bar him from ever visiting, on account of his personality.”
Now Carter’s smile widens and he leans in and kisses me. “Have fun getting ready for church with Pastor Boner.”
“You’re goin’ to Hell for callin’ him that,” I inform him.
“I’m going to Hell for a lot of things,” he assures me.
Chapter 30
On my way back to the table with a fresh dish of sliced tomatoes, I spot the last thing I ever expected to see—Carter Mahoney at church.
Well, okay, he’s outside of church, technically. The cookout is outside, and there aren’t many people here, but I certainly didn’t expect him to be one of them. My steps slow, my forehead creasing with a frown as I take in the sight of Carter talking to Pastor James, then I remember last time Carter encountered him and I pick up the pace.