“Oh shush, I never see Bruno anymore. Let me spoil him when he’s here.” Of course that was her subtle way of telling me that I should visit more often, or better yet move back to Harrington. She finally turned her attention away from the dogs, wiped her greasy hands on a kitchen towel and then opened her arms wide. I hugged her, then pulled back.
“Has anything happened?” she asked, her forehead creased in worry as she studied my expression. The dogs were alternating between watching her back and the plate of bacon.
I shook my head. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”
“Because you show up here without us nagging you about it. It’s just odd.”
“I missed you and Dad. That’s all.”
Mom looked doubtful. She still had hardly any wrinkles, only a few lines around the eyes. I hoped I would look this good when I was fifty. Her blond hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and beneath her apron she was wearing a flowery dress. “Are you sure?”
I would never tell Mom about Adrian. It was too embarrassing. Mom would probably say that it was my fault for moving to a city like New York. There were no decent men there. Sometimes I thought she was right.
And I didn't want Dad to go to jail for breaking a few bones in Adrian’s body, or at least try to break them. If Jared was right and Adrian knew how to fight, then Dad was doomed. He wasn’t exactly the warrior type. More a care bear.
I giggled, and now Mom looked even more concerned.
“I'm fine, Mom, honestly. I just wanted to spend some time at home and with you.”
She gave me a look that said she knew I wasn't telling the entire truth, but she didn't say anything. Dad appeared in the doorway, smiling. “I took your bag up to your room.” His eyes flitted between me and mom, probably worried we were fighting. Bruno was still sniffing the floor excitedly, searching for more bacon. “You really shouldn’t give him human food,” I said to change the topic.
“Who else is going to eat it then? You’re still a vegetarian, right?”
She always said the word vegetarian as if it was something offensive. “Yes, Mom.” I considered lying that I was a vegan just to make her freak out completely, but deciding that I wasn’t a teen who lived for riling up her parents anymore, I refrained. “Dad can eat it.”
Dad was, after all, eying the bacon with almost as much longing as the dogs.
“Your dad’s on a diet. His cholesterol was over the roof.”
Dad shrugged, looking sheepish. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“You’re not eating the bacon,” Mom said, jabbing a finger in his direction.
“What about the cake?” I nodded toward the apple pie sitting in the open oven. “I’d take a piece of that.”
“That’s for the party tonight,” Mom said.
Dad’s eyes lit up. “You can come. Maybe you’ll meet old friends.” Mom gave him a look.
What friends? Most of them had gone to college all over the country and the rest…well, that was something I really didn’t want to think about. I raised my eyebrows. “Party?”
Mom fiddled with her apron, then threw the dogs a few more bites of bacon. “Yes, Frank and Liz are celebrating their 30th anniversary.”
I froze. “You mean the Millers?”
Dad’s and Mom’s eyes met, then she shrugged. “Of course. You should really come.” She paused. “I’m sure Rachel will be happy to see you.”
Rachel and I hadn’t talked since senior year, since our huge fallout two months before graduation.
I forced a smile. “I doubt it. We haven’t been friends in a while.”
“Such a shame. You two were inseparable since kindergarten. I still don’t understand--”
“Mom,” I said in warning. “Not this again.”
Dad wrapped an arm around my and then Mom’s shoulder. “Let’s not argue.” He kissed Mom’s temple. “And I think you should come to the party. It’s your chance to see half of town again.”
Dad knew that I had more trouble refusing him than Mom. “Okay, but I can’t promise that I’ll enjoy it.”
“Perfect,” Dad said, then dropped his arms off our shoulders, snatched the last piece of bacon from the plate and pushed it into his mouth before Mom could react. She shook her head, fighting a smile. “That means no apple pie for you tonight.”
“We’ll see.” Any moment they’d start making out. How could they still be in love after such a long time?
“So when does the party start?” I asked quickly.
“At seven.”
I chanced a look at the clock on the wall. It was almost five by now and it would take a bit to get ready for a party. “I assume I should wear a dress?”