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“You do. I’m waiting for proof that you drank at ten,” he reminded her.
“How? There are no pictures.” She took a bite of the burger, smaller this time because she was using her fork.
“Text your friend. She can either confirm or deny it.” He pointed to her phone.
“Tasha?”
“Her. Ask her when she said you first drank. No asking if your story was true; she needs to give the number,” he said and watched her eat a French fry with her fork.
“Okay.” She set down the silverware again and texted her niece the question. When a text came in, she laughed. “She says she will not answer until she gets a picture of you, proof you exist.”
“Okay, as long as I get an answer,” he replied and smiled as she took his picture. She sent it to Tasha and waited.
“Now we wait. She gets busy sometimes,” she said of her friend, then added, “Thank you for coming out with me. I did not think you would.”
Mathias took a bite of fry and chewed slowly before replying, “I really should have asked you. I owe you an apology for Easter. I was just surprised to see you. You said you were going home, and I didn’t apologize that day.”
“I guess I did not think about it. I am used to it being a different day, and I forget most people do not realize it is. I have never been invited to someone else’s Easter before,” Tess tried to explain. Maybe she should have taken more time talking to him and not having sex with him.
Then a text came in, after she glanced at it she chuckled.
“What did she say?” He tried to look at her phone from across the table.
“She says that Alex, her husband, says you are too blond to be trusted.” She turned the phone so that he could read it himself.
“Me? You’re blonde too. Maybe darker, but still blonde. What does this Alex look like?” Math demanded.
“He looks like me.” She laughed as another text came in.
“Like you?”
“Yes, he is my nephew,” she said, reading the text.
“I thought that Tasha was your niece?” He looked at her phone with an eyebrow raised in question.
Tess closed her eyes and stopped laughing. She had stumbled. Leaning back in her seat, she set down her phone. There was no way he would understand that her niece and nephew were married, even if she was a step-niece. Other families didn’t have things like that happen, just hers.
“Well, they are married. Like aunt and uncle, only one is truly related to you,” she explained, hoping it was a good enough explanation.
“Then which is the one related to you?”
“Alex is my brother’s son.” It was true, but she always felt closer to Natasha since they were the same age.
“But you have known her your entire life also?”
“Almost, yes.” They had met the first day Tess had been in the country.
“It’s just different. In my family, all my nieces and nephews are all around the same age. How old is your oldest niece or nephew?” he asked.
Tess tried to think of a way out of that one. She hated when someone pointed out how she was different, odd, weird. But her family made her that way. She opened her eyes again, and she looked at him, right at him to watch his expression. “Forty-three.”
“How old are you?” he asked.
“How old are you?” she countered, scoffing.
“Thirty-four, thirty-five around Christmas,” he said instantly. She knew he knew when her birthday was.
“I am thirty-seven.” She knew he was younger than she was but hadn’t known by how much.
