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1 month and 7 days later
“Lou,go make sure your dad didn’t forget to put the root beer in the fridge!” Mom yells down the hall.
“Okay!” I yell back, then start searching the house for Dad.
I find him in the garage, bent over the lawnmower, muttering to himself.
Stopping at his side, I look down to see what the problem is, but it just looks like a lawnmower to me. “Whacha doing?”
Dad groans as he straightens up and drops a heavy arm around my shoulders, “I’m getting my butt kicked by a yard tool.”
I giggle. Dad always acts like he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’ll have it fixed by tomorrow.
“Did you need something? Or are you hiding from Mom’s pre-party madness?” He raises his eyebrows because we both know how Mom gets when we have company coming over.
“Mom wanted me to see if you put the pop in the fridge.”
Dad tips his head back and slaps a palm to his forehead, making me grin.
“It’s still in the car,” he admits. “Wanna be a doll and move it for me?”
I roll my eyes. Of course I don’t want to do it. I’m the one with the birthday today and therefore I shouldn’t have to do any manual labor. But it’ll keep me out of the house for a few minutes, so I don’t bother pointing that out.
Dad’s car is still parked in the driveway but the garage door is open so I walk the few steps over and open the trunk. The cases have slid forward – away from the opening of the trunk – meaning I have to reach so far to grab them that my feet leave the ground.
After a lot of wiggling, I get all the cases moved back to where I can reach them, and haul the first one up and into my arms. I can feel that they’re still cold, so this weird fall heatwave hasn’t gotten to them yet.
I shift the weight and trudge around the car back up the driveway. A gust of wind rolls through, making the balloons tied to the front porch bounce all over the place.
On my third trip back to the car, I’m tempted to tell Dad he bought way too much pop, since there’s only four people coming over. But it is a sleepover, so maybe Mom will let us drink as much as we want.
Hoisting out the last case, I set it on the ground and reach up to close the trunk when a car pulls up, stopping in the road at the bottom of the driveway.
Tony climbs out of the passenger side, and I remember that Mom told James he could have a friend stay over tonight, too.
“Hi, Lou. Happy Birthday!” Tony calls out, walking up the driveway.
I’m about to respond, when my eyes move back to the car, and my whole body freezes.
Beckett. Beckett is driving the car.
My mouth goes dry, and my palms start to sweat. And ohmygod I can’t believe it’s him!
As hard as I’ve tried, I haven’t even seen a glimpse of him since that day when he defended my honor, helped me up, and called me by name.
Forcing myself out of my daze I lift a hand in a shaky wave. But he’s busy doing something with his radio, so he doesn’t see me.
“Uh, how’s the party planning going?”
The question snaps my attention away from Beckett’s profile and I find Tony looking at me with a really weird expression.
“Huh. Oh, um, good.” Okay, this is my chance. “You know… Um, if you wanted, I mean if he wanted, Beckett could stay for the party.”
Tony opens his mouth, but he closes it again without saying anything. Then his eyes dart to something over my shoulder.
“Uh, Lou, did you just invite Beckett to your birthday party?” James’ voice sounds from right behind me. And from his tone, I can tell I gave myself away.
I square my shoulders, “It’s the nice thing to do.”
