It sounded fucked up when she said it like that. “There’s not a lot of filth. The maid comes and cleans the place twice a week. And the pool boy is sexy as hell.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed past him. “And now you’ve deteriorated.”
“I’m joking.” He grabbed her arm. “Well, I’m not—the house is clean—but where’s your sense of humor?”
“You’re talking about a human being’s future.”
“I know.” He forced himself to sound serious. “And you’re being myopic.” He wasn’t doing this the way they did ten years ago. He didn’t like being pushed out of his son’s life then, and he was putting his foot down now. “There’s got to be a happy medium on the what-next front.”
“You tell me what that is, and we’ll talk.”
He clenched his jaw and bit back the sarcastic comments that tried to force their way out. “I’m here now, trying to get your input.”
“Or what? You’ll come back with lawyers and force the issue?”
He stared at her in shock. “Okay… No idea where that came from. You’re his family. I get that. You raised him. I don’t think this is the kind of secret we can or should keep.”
“I’m his mother. I think we should.”
“You’re his aunt”—Andrew grasped for a reasonable response that didn’t imply he was going to yield—“and I’m not going to tell him he should stop calling you Mom. But think about it from a bigger-picture angle. How pissed off would you be, if you hit fifteen or twenty or forty and found out your mother lied to you your entire life about who your parents were?”
“But that’s not what you’re proposing.” Desperation leaked into her tone.
“I don’t want to break up the family, but we are going to tell him while I’m here, and it’s going to have large versions of the truth attached to it.” He felt like an ass at the frown she wore. “It doesn’t have to be today. I’ll do you the same favor you did me back then, and give you a few days to be okay with it. You can approve what I tell him, as long as you don’t censor the important details.”
*
Susan’s life was littered with awkward dinners. At the country club. For Dad’s work. School functions. Church gatherings. But the scowl Andrew wore when he emerged from the kitchen with Kandace unsettled her.
As they sat to eat, the siblings relaxed, and Andrew’s joking attitude roared back full force. Lucas spent a lot of time rolling his eyes, but Susan was entertained.
“Susan, isn’t it?” Kandace turned to her. “I understand you’re not in the industry.”
“No. I’m a dancer.” It felt awkward to claim a job she didn’t have yet, but something stopped her from saying, I intern for my dad.
Kandace’s expression drooped. “I see. I didn’t think there were a lot of places for that here.”
“It’s a tough industry anywhere. But I’m trying to make the season ticket with Ballet West. Once I get my degree, I’m going to teach. I’m hoping junior high or high school.”
“Oh.” Kandace’s eyes grew wide. “You’re actually a dancer.”
“As opposed to…?”
Andrew gave a snort laugh. “A stripper. Told you she doesn’t approve of my associates.”
“Could we not do this?” Lucas dropped his face into his hands, muffling the last of his plea.
Susan felt bad for him. Dad embarrassed her all the time, though his comments were more like, She’ll be an old maid soon. I’m hoping someone respectable snatches her up before then.
“Some of the girls I know from auditions work at Southern Exposure.” She could balance a neutral, clean conversation with all sorts of topics. Another thing those awkward dinners taught her. “Some of them do it for money. Most love it. They’re totally sweet. But I could never do that; I’d chicken out.”
“Me too.” Lucas used his fork to chase peas around his plate. He looked up at Susan. “When you do the ballet thing, how do you ignore the eyes on you?”
She didn’t. That was the problem. “When I figure that out, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay.” He smiled.
The conversation slid from one topic to the next after that, until Susan and Andrew wished Kandace and Lucas a good evening, and made their way back to Andrew’s rental car.