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I give her a look. “Uh, yeah. Stone’s a self-made man and he may not have the money your father does, but he does pretty good for himself considering he builds furniture for a living. Your dad likes that in a guy. And if they don’t,” I reach behind me and lift up a bottle of Jameson, “we always have this as a backup.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Always thinking.”
“Don’t worry, okay? Today is going to be great. We’ll eat until we have to pop a button on our pants, take a nap, maybe play some football with Cody, eat some more, and Mom will demand Christmas lists from everyone before we leave the house.”
Brooklyn comes bouncing into the kitchen, her hair in big waves and looking way too grown up for my liking in a rust-colored suede skirt and black sweater.
“Weston’s almost here, Mom.”
“Okay, honey. We want you to Leah’s by three o’clock, and no later, okay?”
“And it’s okay if Weston joins us?”
“No,” I answer for Hadley.
The girls both roll their eyes at me and Brooklyn pops up on the ball of one foot, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll be there by three. Promise. And I won’t eat too much at Weston’s because I already know Leah’s going to have enough food to feed the entire town.”
“Good plan,” Hadley agrees. “Love you, honey. Tell Weston and his family Happy Thanksgiving for us.”
The doorbell rings and she practically skips to the door.
“Hey!”
“Hi. You look… wow. You look really pretty, Brooklyn.”
I watch as her cheeks turn a little pink and raise my eyebrows when Weston catches me watching them. He was totally checking out her breasts.
Busted.
He clears his throat and says hello to us before grabbing Brooklyn’s hand and leading her to his truck.
“I don’t like this,” I mumble.
“Oh, stop it.”
“Did you see how he was looking at her?”
“What’d I miss?”
“Weston picked up Brooklyn andstared.” I pointedly look at Robert’s chest and back up again.
“He didwhat?” Robert roars, moving quickly to the door, as if he’s going to stop them from leaving.
“See? Your father gets it.”
The two of us watch out the front window as Weston leans across the console and gives her a quick kiss before backing out of the driveway.
“I don’t like this,” Robert grumbles. “How are you okay with this?” he demands to know. I’m not sure if his question is directed at Hadley or myself, but I simply put my hands up then point to Hadley.
I’m not going down for this one. It’s Hadley’s fault. Not mine.
“This isn’t on me. This is on your daughter. Blame her.”
“You’re supposed to stop this! She’s a child!”
“She’s fifteen, Dad. Almost sixteen, actually.”
“That means nothing. She shouldn’t be dating. And kissing. And he was looking at her,” he points to my chest, “you know.”
