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She pauses for dramatic effect, and all I can do is brace myself for the “best part”, the cherry on this shit sundae. “What?”
“He offered to drive you, so you won’t have to Uber.”
I clench my teeth so hard they could crack. I don’t worry. Not about that, anyway. Taking Ubers is perfectly fine with me. But for some reason, my mother harbors this unnatural fear that, despite me taking every precaution, my Uber driver is suddenly going to decide to take me to a remote place and murder me.
But even if I did get into an Uber with a serial killer, I think I’d find that preferable to driving the ten miles down the road in the company of Alec Mansfield.
I groan. “Mom. I don’t need to go with him. I don’t even know why you invited him.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know, because it’s a family dinner, maybe?”
“And he’s family. You’re making it seem like you don’t like him?”
Bingo. I don’t. “Family doesn’t disappear for ten years and never try to get in touch with you.”
She lets out a little humph. “That’s interesting, dear. Because I get the feeling if I didn’t keep calling and texting you, you would’ve disappeared a long time ago too.”
She has a point, but I have no response.
“Look, Anastasia. I know that Alec used to give you a hard time, in the old days. But you’ve both matured, have you not? You’re adults. He’s a doctor, for goodness’ sake. He’s not going to be a problem. Let him drive you. I already asked him to and he said yes, so it’ll be awkward if I have to tell him you’ve changed your mind. He’ll be confused.”
I stifle a laugh.
I doubt he’ll be confused, but I don’t tell her that.
“And you should’ve seen him,” she goes on. “He’s really excited to see everyone again.”
I let out a little huff. I bet he is. “
Fine, Mom, I have to go. I have to—”
“So you’ll drive over with him?” she asks in a lilting, hope-filled tone. I picture her toying with the dainty gold hearts-shaped necklace she always wears. “I know it would mean—”
“—Mom, I’ve got to go,” I cut her off because I don’t want to argue with or explain any of this to her.” Someone’s at the door. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She’s still talking as I pull the phone away from my ear and end the call.
I stalk around the kitchen, imagining Alec sucking up to my mom, like he did in the old days. He probably helped her load her trunk at the supermarket, the perfect surrogate son. He always used to do stuff like that. It drove me nuts, the way he’d kiss up to them, only to turn his nasty side to me.
That sweet boy who used to text me might be in there, somewhere. But Alec’s kept him buried so long, I doubt I’ll ever see him again.
I don’t care what my mother says, I’m not going to ride over with him.
Who does he think he is, for even suggesting that? Did he really think I’d believe he was doing me a favor? No—he doesn’t do anything unless he has something to gain by it.
I’m not even going to answer the door if he knocks. And that’s that. I’ll sneak across the street to Ted’s and catch an Uber from there.
As I’m hatching the plans for my getaway, I inhale sharply and realize something’s burning.
I whirl toward the oven to see black smoke pouring out.
“No!” I scream, rushing to it, grabbing a potholder and pulling out the cakes, which are completely charred.
Tossing them in the sink, I turn toward Alec’s place and clench my jaw.
“I hate you!” I scream, hoping that he can hear me.
18
Alec
“Hey, hey. Look who it is.” Aidan meets me at the door, giving me a hearty handshake and a hug.
He and Cooper are identical twins. Before, it used to be tough for teachers and coaches to tell them apart, so they used to have fun playing all sorts of tricks. But it was pretty obvious to anyone else who was who. Cooper’s the cheeky one who likes to get into trouble, and Aidan, who is two minutes older, is the more straight-laced one who’d give you the shirt off his back. Other than that, despite the surface similarities, the more you get to know them, the more different they look.
But I guess they got tired of getting mistaken for one another, because Aidan is clean-shaven, unlike his brother. He’s dressed in jeans, an LL Bean sweatshirt, and a Portland Pirates ballcap. “So, Dr. Mansfield, what’s new?”
Before I can answer, a little girl that can’t be more than two toddles up and grabs ahold of his leg. She has two blonde pigtails, sprouting from the top of her head, and a chocolate mustache.
