I had to admit now, standing here in my robe with my hazel hair falling wistfully around my flushed face, not an ounce of make-up on… I liked the Fallon Addington who didn’t have a care in the world. I liked the Fallon Addington I was the other night in Oak Hill—the spontaneous one who went for the kiss with the guy who gave her butterflies. The one who followed her heart and nothing else.
I sighed, feeling completely disgruntled with myself and how I just had to please my parents, and started making my way to their house.
My mother was probably long gone to the club for her daily tennis training with Diego, and my father was more than likely at the office, which meant it was safe.
I didn’t have to put my armor on. I could just go into the kitchen and sit with Lupe for a while. She was the best listener of all. She always had been. She was a good secret keeper, too, which was why I loved her so much.
As soon as I walked through the door, I basically morphed into a hound dog, my nose leading me to the best scent I had ever had the pleasure of smelling.
“Lupe, what on earth are you making, and can I have all of it?” I pulled out a stool and rested my elbows on the cool countertop.
Lupe turned around, her graying hair pulled back out of her face. A stark white apron sat on her plump belly. She smiled at me and placed her hands on her waist. “Sorry, dear, this is for tonight, so you’ll have to wait until then.”
My brow furrowed. “What’s tonight?”
Lupe turned back around and started to fiddle with something in the fridge. “The dinner. You know, with Derek’s parents?”
NOOOOOO. What?!
“What?! No one told me there was a dinner tonight!”
Lupe spun toward me, holding a big package of raw meat. My face instantly scrunched. “Your mother was certain that Derek had told you, but I was going to pop in later to warn you regardless.”
“Ugh, Derek and I don’t really talk much. He didn’t tell me.”
Lupe looked at me skeptically. “You and Derek don’t talk much? From the sound of your mother earlier, you and Derek are basically inseparable.”
I groaned. “She’s delusional.”
“Is she also delusional to tell me that you two are getting engaged soon?”
Lupe went back to chopping up celery and carrots on the wooden cutting board as I sat and simmered. She knew what she was doing – she was getting me to talk like she knew I needed to do.
I watched as she busied herself with the chopping, the smell of fresh seasonings filling the air little by little as she sprinkled them into a large pot.
“No,” I
whispered, my head falling onto my hands.
“No? So, you are getting engaged soon? I assumed as much, considering your mother had booked the club and has been on the phone talking to various people about how her daughter is getting married soon. I swear that woman could talk to a brick wall.”
I laughed and nodded my head. Lupe and I had a strange bond. She was polite and cordial to my parents and anyone that she came into contact with in the Addington house—except for me. She had been our cook for several years, making my school lunches since before I could even recite the Pledge of Allegiance and always placing small notes inside with inspirational quotes. And she’d always—and I mean always—put a small piece of chocolate in there, even when my mother insisted I needed to lose my “baby weight” (I was in the second grade, by the way).
But Lupe had grown to be my confidant, the hug that I never knew I needed. She’d been the best friend I’d ever had. That was because she was real. She had never held the truth from me, but she had never put me down, either. She accepted me for me. I’d never had to hide anything from her (except for that one time she made liver for dinner – there was no way I was putting that in my mouth).
“Things seem to be set in stone this time,” I said, sliding the cutting board closer to me so I could grab a carrot stick.
“And Derek? Do you like him?”
I shrugged, biting down.
“Fallon.” I looked up at Lupe as she placed her wooden spoon down. “You do know that this is your life, right?”
I snickered. “Yes, it’s just not the life that I want.”
“That’s what I’m saying. It’s your life, not your mother’s or your father’s. It’s not Derek’s. It’s yours. If you don’t want to marry Derek, then don’t. If you’re only marrying him for your parents’ sake, then you’re going to be one unhappy child, and I won’t always be there to make you tacos.”
I smiled. “I’m not a child, Lupe.”