Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
“Yes, go ahead.” Layla stepped inside and took over while I rushed to the bedroom.
James was there looking at himself in the mirror, turning from side to side while observing his clothes. He did this several times while I searched through my suitcase–-I hadn’t even properly unpacked yet.
“I’ve never seen you so worried about your appearance,” I said, startling him.
“I don’t know what the dress code is for these events.”
From what I surmised yesterday, Farrah seemed like a laid-back person. I doubted anyone would be wearing pants and a formal shirt like what James had on, but I didn’t say anything. It looked good on him. Besides, I couldn’t imagine him being comfortable in shorts and flip flops even if it was a really warm day.
I was ready in a second while James continued to fidget. Were Farrah’s words from yesterday getting to him? He had never seemed to doubt himself because of our age difference.
“Are you ready?” I hugged him from behind, resting my cheek against his hard back.
“Yeah,” he said, sounding dejected. I started to worry that he REALLY didn’t want to go, but I had already confirmed we were attending, and besides, I thought it would do us good to try to bring some normalcy into our lives.
I wasn’t going to give in on this one.
“Let’s go, then,” I smiled at him and we headed downstairs.
James.
I hadn’t seen Becca act like such a social butterfly before. Not like this.
Within five minutes of our arrival at the packed backyard porch, she was already surrounded by a group of chirpy women, a few close to her age and others that were closer to mine. I just wanted to go back home and think.
Alison was out of prison. I conveniently withheld this information from Becca so she wouldn’t be upset, but the downside to this was that it was weighing on me, and I couldn’t share it with her now.
“Here’s the new neighbor!” A balding man that was at least twenty years younger approached me and extended his hand. “Dave Davenport.”
“Oh, the man of the hour. Congratulations,” I said. “James Valentino.”
He gave me a firm shake.
“You know, you got that property for a steal. I have contacts with the realtors, and it was meant to be a bidding war. But then you swooped in and grabbed it. Share your secrets with me, James,” he said, handing me a beer.
“I have so many of them that you’ll retire by the time we’re done.”
He let out a hearty laugh, and then his face soured up a little when he saw I meant it.
I really wasn’t in the mood for this.
Becca.
I couldn’t believe I was enjoying this so much.
Yes, there were a lot of pleasantries and small talk back and forth, but the simplicity of it– talking about nannies, daycares, and where to get the truly organic fruit and not the one disguised as homegrown was a refreshing change of air.
“I took mine to Happyland. I wanted him to be around other kids,” one of the women was saying.
“Well, I’m taking a leave for two years so I can spend time with Aisha, so I don’t think I’d be able to part with her until she’s ready for preschool!”
“What about you, Becca?” Farrah interjected, setting all the women’s eyes on me. “I thought I saw a stroller being unloaded from one of your many cars yesterday.”
“Yes, I have two kids. Alessandro and Dahlia.” I didn’t like her tone when she said “many cars,” implying that I had to give a reason for that.
And now I had to come up with an excuse for Dahlia not to be with us. Shit.
I started to doubt whether it would have been better to just say it was Alessandro. But then, if we did stay here longer, how would I excuse the fact that Dahlia would suddenly appear?
“Oh, you should have brought them over! There’s an area for the kids.” She gestured toward the side of the house. I craned my neck to see and caught a glimpse of a play area with nannies and babies, all under the shade of a gargantuan sycamore.
“I didn’t know. They’re still settling in and getting used to the time difference with Italy, so I’m giving them a few days to adjust before they leave the house,” I quickly said, feeling miserable for having to lie yet again.
“Oooh Italy! Does James have business there?”
Her question elicited an involuntary laugh from me. Business. Yeah, he had business there. A lot of BUSINESS.
“The steak is ready!” Dave, Farrah’s husband, mercifully interrupted me with his announcement. Plates were being distributed with chopped meat and an assortment of vegetables.
I politely excused myself and headed toward James, who was quietly eating by himself in a corner.
“Is everything all right?” I said, just as a neighbor handed me a plate and cutlery. I thanked her and turned back to James.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” he said, taking a sip of the beer he had left on the railing.
Maybe it wasn’t the best of ideas to drag him over when it was clear he had no interest in being here.
“James.” I prodded him with my finger. “Don’t lie to me.”
He sighed and held my gaze for a moment. “We can’t talk about it here.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. If he didn’t tell me what was wrong, I wouldn’t be able to eat.
“Dahlia?” I hoped the urgency in my voice got through to him. I’d go crazy if he didn’t tell me.
“She’s all right.”
“The trial?” I whispered.
“Becca, not now. It’s nothing we can solve straight away. Let’s just enjoy this.” He brought a slice of meat up to my lips and pretty much forced me to eat it. “It tastes great.”
His mirthless smile wasn’t comforting at all.
***
After an hour or so of not enjoying myself anymore, and when everyone seemed to be done eating, I thought it was an appropriate time to excuse ourselves.
“We should get going. Thank you so much. You’ve been so welcoming,” I said to Farrah, who was collecting the plastic plates from everyone.
“Wait, you can’t leave yet! It’s tradition in the Davenport home to play a round of games,” she said with a smile.
“Games?”
“Yes. Hopscotch, tug of war, arm wrestling. We vary, depending on the weather and the mood. It’s just for fun, so we adults feel like we’re young again. Or younger, at least.”
