The One For Me(19)

“Can’t you knock?” Liam asks, sitting up on his elbows. I glance at the door where a tall, skinny, blonde haired woman stands.

Her hands are on her slender hip; her long perfectly painted nails are tapping along her waist. “I don’t have to, it’s my house.”

Ouch. Must be step-mom young enough to be older sister. More like last year she was a senior in high school young.

“Well, this is my room, so get the hell out. I am busy.”

She glances in my direction, her blue eyes narrows. I want to evaporate, but as much as I will it, it never happens. “And who must you be?”

“My name is Katy,” I whisper. I avert my eyes. I hear you’re not supposed to look at mean people too long in the face. You’ll turn to stone.

He cocks an eyebrow at me. “She is my girlfriend.”

“Very surprising, I didn’t think you’d ever meet someone that would like you,” she says, pushing her long blonde hair off her shoulder. “Your dad is going to be late tonight. He wanted me to tell you. You can order a pizza for dinner.” She smiles. It’s fake. Then walks out of the room. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

She didn’t even officially introduce herself to me. Not that I want to fake a ‘nice to meet you,’ because obviously it was anything but that. Although, it’s normally required for the parents to at least pretend they give a damn.

“Ugh,” he says, slamming his head into the pillow. “She never cooks like Mom used to.”

Something sad runs across his eyes before he closes them. She never cooks? How awful. “Tell ya what. Get up.” I pat his knee.

“Why?” he asks, and barely opens one eye.

“To have a home-cooked meal, my mom always cooks.”



Twenty minutes later, we’re at my house in the kitchen. The smell of food is heavy. I wonder when the last time Liam smelled a home cooked meal in his kitchen.

“You’ve never had Oreo balls?” my mom asks, holding out a plate in front of Liam. “That’s blasphemy.”

“It looks like dirt,” he says, smiling.

“And taste like Heaven,” I say, sprinkling some pepper over the mashed potatoes. “You should try one. They’re great.”

Mom waves the plate in his face and smiles.

He laughs. “Shouldn’t you be encouraging me to wait until after dinner to eat desert, Mrs. Taylor? I’ll spoil my dinner.”

Mom snorts and rolls her eyes. “I’m not like most mothers. It’s just one, take one.” She sounds like a drug pusher.

Liam glances over at me and smiles. My stomach flutters and I pretend to be interested in the potatoes. Jeez, when did his smile get so pretty? “Okay, here it goes.” He reaches over and takes one. He puts it in his mouth and I hate that I watch his mouth when he does. His full lips devour the chocolate goodness. Stop it, Katy.

“These are…” he pauses for effect, his eyes directing back and forth between my mother and me, “awesome.”

Mom hollers and thrusts her fist in the air, with a fist pump. “Another one converted, my dear.” She smiles. “Call the others!”

I laugh. My mother is too embarrassing sometimes.

When dinner is ready I set the table and we all sit down to eat. It’s surprisingly normal. We chatted about our project and non-important things.

“So,” Mom says, clearing her throat, “are you two official now?”

I try not to choke on my chicken. I didn’t even really think about how this would look to my mother. Everyone else knows, we have to try and pull it off, so I have to tell her right?

“Yes,” I say, taking a sip of my drink.

She smirks and I see she is trying to hide it. Heat rises to my cheeks and I pretend to really enjoy my mashed potatoes.

“You’re blushing,” Liam blurts out. I glance up at him and give him the death glare.

Mom smiles. “She is a blusher, she always has been.”

“I caught that quickly,” Liam winks.

Kill me now.



After dinner Mom basically pushes us out and says she can handle the dishes. That’s a first. She normally asks me to help while she ‘pretends’ to wash the stove. It’s never as dirty as she says it is.

Liam walks to our swing in the back yard and sits down. I follow him and sit down next to him.

He wraps his arms over the back of the swing. “Thanks, Katy,” he says.

“For what?” I ask.

“For inviting me over. It was nice. My family hasn’t been like this in a long, long time. I miss it. This was…nice.”

I bite my lip. How freaking sad. I’m determined not to think about a small child watching the empty house and wondering what he done wrong. I never think about having dinner with Dad or Mom. It is always just normal. Now that Dad’s gone it’s gonna sting, but Mom will never stop having dinner with me. I hope. “Well, you have a Jeep. You know where I live. You can come over anytime you want for dinner.”