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Then, as if right on cue, a knock sounds at the door. I glance over at Dad, who doesn’t look a bit concerned and pops another bite of steak into his mouth. When I look to Sylvia, she simply shrugs, causing me to sigh as I pull the napkin off my lap and toss it down on the table.
“I’ll get it,” I say as I push back from the table.
As I walk toward the front door, a feeling in the pit of my stomach eats away at me. I don’t like surprises, and I have the feeling that’s exactly what I’m about to step into.
When I open the door, my heart leaps into my throat, and every word in my vocabulary leaves me as my eyes land on Wes, standing on the porch with a dozen yellow roses in one hand and a box of his mother’s chocolate-covered strawberries in the other. Wes is dressed in a pair of gray slacks, a white button-down
dress shirt, and a tie, so I can tell he’s rushed over from his office to make it here.
A sheepish smile ghosts across his face. “I hope it’s okay that I’m here. Your dad invited me for dinner.”
I should’ve expected something like this from Dad. Whenever there is an issue going on in my life, he always tries to fix it. I guess my broken marriage is his newest challenge.
I lick my lips and step back, allowing him room to come inside, hating that my father is trying to play Mr. Fix-It with my love life, but I can’t fault him for wanting to help. “It’s fine. Come on in.”
His tall frame eases into the doorway, and he hands me the roses. “I know these candies are your favorite. Mom whipped them up for me before I came over.”
I take the flowers and the small box with a small smile of gratitude. “They’re lovely. Your mom makes the best desserts in town.”
Wes smiles. “She didn’t name it Best Candies for nothing.”
I allow a little laugh to slip through, and he winks.
It’s nice that he’s trying to lighten up the tenseness of this situation, but it’s difficult to deny the tension that’s still between us. The best thing I can do is be gracious and make it through this dinner without things getting weird.
“Come on in, Wes!” Dad calls from the other room, not really giving me the option to disinvite him. “We’ve got a place set up for you.”
Wes and I walk around the corner to find Sylvia setting another place across from Dad at the small wooden table.
She glances up at me and bites her bottom lip with an expression that I can only describe as her saying sorry. I wave her off from behind Wes so that he can’t see me and then take my seat again. This setup has Dad written all over it.
“This looks amazing, Mrs. Uphill,” Wes compliments Sylvia.
She smiles and passes him the bowl of mashed potatoes. “Thank you, and remember, it’s just Sylvia, please. I insist.”
He nods and takes the bowl before piling a healthy portion onto his plate, making himself quite comfortable.
We all begin eating silently. I mean, I’m not sure what I’m even supposed to say in this situation. The whole idea of splitting up our marriage was to get some space between us. Wes should have known I wouldn’t be cool with him just popping over like this. You would think he would know me better, and would know that he should have at least warned me first. A simple phone call would’ve sufficed.
Dad clears his throat. “How’s work going, Wes? Last I heard you were getting some big promotion.”
Wes wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Oh, yes, sir. The firm assigned me to be the head engineer on a project for the downtown Knoxville area.”
“That’s wonderful,” Sylvia says, her voice full of admiration. “To be so young and to already have so much responsibility—they must know how intelligent you are.”
“Thank you,” Wes replies, and there’s a hint of red in his cheeks.
He always gets a little embarrassed when he’s thrust into the limelight, which is the exact opposite of his brother, who reveled in it.
Gah! I mentally scold myself for yet again comparing Wes to Jared. It’s a bad habit I’ve yet to figure out how to break.
Dad grins. “That’s great news, Wes. Means you’ve got a real bright future in front of you, which is good news, considering when you and London start a family you’ll be financially stable.”
“Dad!” I instantly retort, trying my best to head him off before he continues down the path of fixing Wes and me into his ideal of a perfect little family.
“What?” Dad asks defensively. “Aren’t I allowed to discuss all the good things that your future might hold?”
“No,” I say instantly.
