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“I need to get going. I brought someone with me, and we should get back before it’s late. Her sisters will probably chew my head off.” Sally said she told her siblings where we were, but Ella would probably rather my nuts roast on a fire than trust me around her sister again, but here we are.
“You brought a girl here?” Mom wipes away a tear, her eyes still red. “Where is she?”
“Just in town.” I need to get out of here.
I get up from the couch.
“She must be important if you brought her here.” There’s a sudden gleam in her eyes.
“Honey,” her new husband warns before placing a hand on her lower back.
“George, my son has a girlfriend. Let me have this,” Mom chides. “We still have at least five years until Marc brings a girl home to meet us if the kids even do that nowadays.”
My eyes shoot wide at the mention of Sally as my girlfriend. The thought flashes through my head, and I must have some expression on my face because Mom smiles even wider.
“Please stay the night and have dinner with us. I can make up the guest bed and everything.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea?—”
Suddenly, my brother—Marc—is standing next to me with a football in his hand.
“We could play catch. Dad kind of sucks at it.” He gleams up at me, and my heart warms.
“Hey, I’ll remember that, squirt,” his dad teases before looking me up and down just like everyone else. “You know, son, I think it might be easier to say yes. When they get an idea in their head, it’s game over.”
My face goes white when he says son. My stomach starts to spiral. Why did he have to say it with such kindness?
I’m a stranger, his wife’s kid from a failed relationship, yet he looks at me like I could be part of all of this when that’s not reality.
I swallow the rock in my throat and hope the splash doesn’t cause me to burn from the acid. “Okay.”
The only problem is, I don’t have a girlfriend, and Sally wants nothing to do with me.
Lord, give me strength.
This city is beautiful, but everything feels like a blur as I drive down the streets, looking for the French-inspired cafe Sally is at. I’m not even sure how to pronounce it, but she sent the location when I texted her.
I look down at her text again when I hit a red light.
Sally
Are you okay?
Today has been lapse of judgment after lapse of judgment. First, thinking it was okay to ask Sally to come here, then left her to fend for herself for the past two hours, and now I’m off to ask her to come back to Mom’s for dinner and spend the night.
Why?
Because I have no self-control when it comes to the women in my life.
I walk into the French cafe. Each doorway looks like an arch with different murals connecting each room. This is where Sally said she’d be, and I need to find her in order to ask for the biggest favor.
I order a coffee and find Sally sitting in a green chair, playing with what looks like a weird antique lamp made from pipes.
The light flashes on as I take my seat.
“Ahh!” she yelps from surprise as her hand nearly knocks her drink off the table, but I’m quicker than that.
“How are you, princess?” I ask on instinct, and Sally narrows her eyes.
