True (15 page)

But his brother shrugged. “Mom will always freak out, bro. Can’t do anything about that. Might as well get yourself some pie and deal with her bitching. Better than missing out on it and still having her at you.”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah, you have a point.” He looked at me, still frowning. “Are you sure? You should call your dad first.”

“I will later. It’s fine,” I assured him, though I didn’t really know that for a fact. This was uncharted territory for me. I had never invited anyone, male or female, to any family function. Dad would probably be so stunned he wouldn’t know how to say no. Either that, or curiosity over Tyler would compel him to agree.

Slowly, he looked at his brothers, then at me. “Alright. Thanks, babe. That’s really sweet of you.”

Jayden whooped in triumph.

Tyler pulled me down onto his lap and kissed me. “I hope you don’t regret this,” he murmured in my ear. “The Mann boys don’t have the best manners.”

“It’ll be fine,” I repeated, because I wanted it to be. I kissed him.

“Does this mean we can eat pie today?” Easton asked.

Riley let out a snorting laugh. “I know someone who will be.”

Nice. I fought the urge to squirm.

Tyler threw a lighter at him. “Shut up.”

Riley caught it. “Yeah, that’s going to hurt me.” He used it to light a cigarette he pulled out of his pocket. “Welcome to the jungle, Rory. We take it day by day.”

***

The logical strategy was not to call my dad but to call Susan, which was precisely what I did. I figured she was the cook, so technically she was hostess. She was the one who would have to make adjustments to her meal plan and shopping, not my dad, so it made complete and total sense to ask her instead of having him spring it on her last minute or something.

I was also terrified my dad would say no.

He had asked a bunch of probing questions about Tyler on the phone on Monday, and had commented in a faux jovial tone that he supposed all the kids were into tattoos these days, making it obvious he in no way approved.

So I was calling Susan.

“Hey, Rory, how are you?” she asked when she answered her cell phone.

One of the things I liked best about her was that she was good at being neutral. If she was surprised I had called her, which I never did, she didn’t show it. She also always managed to express interest without it sounding like concern. If I had been forced to deal with someone who was trying too hard, continually asking me if I was okay, I would have had a much harder time accepting a third person inserted into our Macintosh household.

“I’m great, thanks. How are you guys? Is Dad having a mental breakdown about Tyler?” I asked, because I was fairly sure he was.

Susan laughed. “He’s . . . adjusting. He’s not used to the idea of you dating.”

“But he was always asking me if I was seeing anyone,” I protested, as I cut across the quad, the remaining soggy leaves on campus clinging damply to my boots.

“Yeah, well, that’s a man for you. Wanting it and the reality of it are two totally different things. Besides, I think your dad expected you to date someone more like him. A button-up-shirt kind of guy.”

“Well, that’s really egotistical of him,” I said, amused. “Though I suppose I always figured I would end up with a nerd. But you can’t really plan these things.” I felt wise and philosophical about the whole thing.

“No, you can’t. The irony is that your dad and I don’t look like we belong together either, but of course he doesn’t see the parallels. I’m sure once he recovers from the muscle tone and the tattoos, he’ll be fine.”

Good thing he didn’t know about the penis piercing. That would give him a heart attack. Or the fact that I had seen the penis piercing. I grinned, glad Susan couldn’t see me. “I hope so. Tyler is a great guy.”

“By the way, I’m going to suggest that you and I have a quick obligatory birth control conversation right now, so that I can tell your dad we did. Then he won’t attempt to have that conversation with you himself, thus resulting in mortifying all of us on Thursday and him popping seventeen antacids. I want him to enjoy dinner, and I don’t want you humiliated in front of the whole family.”

“Oh, God,” I said, horrified. “He wants to talk to me about birth control?”

“Unfortunately, yes. So let’s nip this in the bud. Are you using it?”

I didn’t see any reason to deny what we were doing, and we were being safe. So I told her truthfully, “Yes.”

“Okay, perfect. We’re good then. I’ll tell your dad we had a lengthy heart-to-heart and we bonded and that you’re not sleeping with Tyler at this point.”

I laughed. “Great idea.”

“Because really, is it any of his business? Not particularly.”

“Um, it’s not.” There were some things you just didn’t need to share with your father. Like how late Tyler had kept me up the night before, doing quiet and delicious things to me under my comforter while my roommates slept.

Redirecting my thoughts, I reminded myself there was a point to this conversation. “So, do you mind if Tyler comes for dinner on Thursday?”

“No, of course not. I think that’s a great idea, actually. What about his family? Does he live too far away to go home?”

“No. He actually lives right here in Cincinnati. But he doesn’t exactly have a standard home life. His mom is a bit of a mess,” I said, trying to downplay the truth. “And he basically takes care of his younger brothers. Soooo . . . can they both come, too?”

In true Susan fashion, she didn’t change tone at all. “Sure. How old are they? The older they are, the more meat they eat, in my experience. Little guys just like corn and bread.”

“Seventeen and ten.”

“Perfect. Are you still coming tomorrow?”

“No. I’ll just come Thursday morning with Tyler. That way Dad doesn’t have to drive down here tomorrow and pick me up. He can just take me home on Sunday.” I adjusted my backpack and squinted against the sun. “Should I call him and tell him?”

“I can pass it on. See you Thursday.”

“Thanks, Susan.”

When I hung up the phone, I changed my mind and decided to call my dad. He shouldn’t have to hear secondhand from Susan. That wasn’t fair. It had just been me and him for a decade, and I didn’t want our closeness to shift and fade away.

But it was his voice mail, so I left a message.

Thursday morning I realized that he had never actually called me back.

Chapter Fifteen

“Whoa, Rory, this is where you live?” Jayden asked from the backseat as we pulled into my neighborhood. “Holy crap, you must be rich.”

“No. Just middle class,” I said, feeling awkward at his awe. I tried to see the subdivision through his eyes, not mine. To me, it was just a regular suburban neighborhood of houses built in the mid-nineties, fake colonials with brick fronts, vinyl siding wrapping around the rest. The houses weren’t on top of one another, but they were close, though the builder had snaked the streets to give the illusion of privacy. There were five floor plans, and only on rare occasion did some wacky homeowner deviate from the holy trinity of shutter colors—black, burgundy, or hunter green.

It was all very ordinary. Basketball hoops and cul-de-sacs and perfectly edged front lawns. At any given moment from March to October, there was a middle-aged man taming his minimal plot of land into a perfect emerald postage stamp, with conical bushes and staggered foliage, so something was always in bloom. Women planted flowers. Kids traveled up and down drives on scooters.

At ten, I had assumed everyone except poor people in Africa lived that way.

By twelve or thirteen, I had a slightly expanded view of the world, and by eighteen, had considered myself knowledgeable of the plight of America’s working poor.

But until I rode through my own childhood neighborhood in Tyler’s dilapidated car and saw those streets through Jayden’s eyes, I hadn’t really understood. This felt alien to them, I could sense it in the tension that rose in the car. This felt unattainable. This felt like it was mocking them.

“Maybe I should have worn a tie,” Tyler said wryly.

“You don’t have a tie,” Easton told him from the backseat. “Do you?” The idea seemed to intrigue him.

“No.” Tyler lit a cigarette as he turned down the street I pointed to. “And I don’t want to.”

I recognized that tone. His jaw was set and he was dragging hard on his filter, blasting the smoke back out. He was uncomfortable. It made me uncomfortable. I wanted this to be fun for them, for me, not something everyone was dreading.

“This street is called Chamomile Court? Is that for real? What’s one block over, Lavender?”

I didn’t say anything, because he’d put me in a position where nothing I could say would be right. If I mocked it along with him, I was mocking my upbringing, which I didn’t think I needed to apologize for. If I tried to put a positive spin on it, it would just irritate him.

There was no question that Chamomile Court was a stupid name for a street. But there were a lot of stupid street names. There were whole blogs dedicated to Butt Hole Lanes and Divorce Ct. signs, right alongside intersections like Love Lane and Disaster Drive.

Whatever.

Maybe Tyler realized his mood had altered mine because for most of the drive up from Cincinnati, we had all been laughing and talking, and now I was silent. His hand snaked over and linked through mine. Sometimes I still stared in awe at our hands entwined, amazed that we were together. Our relationship felt like a Christmas gift that you hadn’t asked for and weren’t expecting to receive, but the minute you saw it, you knew it was perfect for you.

“Don’t worry,” I told him finally, brushing his skin with my thumb. “They’ll like you.” I pointed to the beige house with the red-brick facing. “This one.”

I expected him to protest, say that he wasn’t worried,. but instead he just gave me a half-smile and pulled into the driveway.

“Is this it?” Jayden asked, sounding excited. He was wearing an extremely beat-up army jacket, a faded red Coca-Cola T-shirt, multiple braided and cloth bracelets, and a beanie. He looked like a Portland hipster, while Easton looked like he was color-blind. He was wearing an orange shirt and turquoise blue jeans. I had a feeling they had been a thrift-store purchase from the girl’s department. I kind of enjoyed seeing that the younger brothers had clearly defined themselves separate from Riley and Tyler, who looked like they would fit in at a party with a crowd of Ultimate Fighters on their day off. Lots of black and chains.

Then there was me, dressed in another one of my supershort floral dresses, with thick tights and boots, a knit beret on my head. We would make a fantastic flash mob, because no one would ever suspect the four of us were together.

I led them into the house through the garage, calling out, “I’m home,” moving through the laundry room and into the kitchen.

The house smelled like Thanksgiving should, of roasting turkey, cinnamon, and wine. Susan was at the island, vigorously chopping something. “Hey! Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving. Susan, this is Tyler, Jayden, and Easton. Guys, this is Susan, my dad’s girlfriend.”

She wiped her hands on a towel and lamented, “Oh, Lord, I’m 38, do you know how ridiculous I feel being called someone’s girlfriend?” She came around and shook each of their hands with a smile. “Nice to meet you all. We’re so glad you could join us.”

“Well, I’m 48, how do you think being called your boyfriend makes me feel?” my dad said from the family room, standing up. “And no, I did not like it when you spent a month testing out the phrase ‘manpanion’ to everyone. It made me feel like your health aide.”

“You could get married!” Susan’s mother called from the couch. “That would solve the whole damn problem.”

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” Susan said ruefully.

My dad came over and hugged me. “Hey, sweetheart.”

He then eyed Tyler with unguarded curiosity. When he shook Tyler’s hand, I noticed his nose wrinkle up. He could smell the cigarette smoke on Tyler’s clothes, and he looked none too pleased about it. Tyler was smiling, but it was forced, defensive.

“Thanks for bringing Rory home,” my dad said.

“Thanks for letting us crash your family dinner,” Tyler said. “That’s really cool of you.”

Leaving them to eyeball each other, I went over and said hi to Susan’s parents and my aunt Molly, who emerged from the dining room with another bottle of wine, glancing at me like she’d never seen me before in her life. I saw that she and Susan each already had a glass of red wine. My aunt was what I’m positive my father always feared I would morph into. She was superintelligent, with a PhD in physics, extremely quiet, interjecting random comments usually totally unrelated to the current topic. She wore sweaters that would fit a 300-pound man, and when she dyed her hair, she forgot to wipe the color off her forehead and ears after shampooing. She seemed locked in an internal Boltzmann constant equation, trying to bridge the gap between the outside macro world and the micro world of her brain.

Becoming Aunt Molly was my greatest fear as well. The truth was, my dad might have become as eccentric as his sister if he hadn’t met my mother. He had been a TA for a chem professor when she was an undergrad, and by all accounts, including my own memories, she had been very social. They had been a couple of unpaired electrons until they had met, my father had always joked. Which never made any particular sense to me since electrons were composed of multiple atoms, which made them sound like a foursome, at bare minimum. Or was he saying that together they were reactive? It would have been funnier if he had made a reference to the excited state of atoms, but maybe that was just me.

When I stepped back into the kitchen, I slipped my hand into Tyler’s and squeezed it. “Do you guys want something to drink?” Jayden and Easton were standing there looking around with big eyes. Tyler was chewing on his fingernail.

“I’m fine,” he told me. “Thanks. Susan, do you need some help?”

This made her smile. “Actually, I could use some help. I need a strong man to pull this turkey out of the oven, and from the looks of it, you fit the bill.”

He certainly did.

Though my dad looked put out about the fact.

“Sure, no problem.” Tyler went over to the kitchen sink and washed his hands, and I secretly applauded. He had probably earned five points with my OCD father for that.

While Tyler helped Susan with bird retrieval, I took Jayden and Easton into the garage and showed them the little refrigerator stocked full of soft drinks and beer. “Pick whichever one you want from the soft drinks.”

“How much are they?” Jayden asked.

I bit my lip so I wouldn’t say anything. Sometimes I got really pissed off on their behalf. They shouldn’t have to be so suspicious of people giving them something as simple as a drink. “Oh, they’re free. My dad bought them all already.”

“Cool.” Jayden picked an orange drink and Easton picked a straight-up Pepsi.

I took a Diet for myself and grabbed a beer for Tyler. When we got in the house, Jayden wandered over to the TV to watch football. Easton stayed next to me as I held the beer out to Tyler, who had already set the giant roasting pan on the stove top. “Since I was out there,” I told him.

He gave me a smile. “Thanks.” He looked more relaxed.

“Should I card you?” my dad joked.

Ugh. Way to be obvious. “Dad, he’s 22. Don’t be weird.”

For some reason, this exchange made Tyler grin. “It’s okay, babe. The man has a right to question whatever he wants in his own house.”

My father looked mollified and shot me a “See?” look.

Maybe Tyler was just glad my dad was being honest. Or maybe he had just needed a minute to adjust to the situation. “So how did you two meet?” he actually asked my father and Susan.

“They met online. Right?” I asked, realizing a second after I said it that I didn’t actually know.

“What? Why would you think that?” my dad said to me, looking surprised. “We met at the grocery store. I was the hapless nerd wandering around with a puzzled look on my face in front of the deli counter. Susan insisted I try the prosciutto.”

“I seriously did not know that.” But I could picture it. I wondered why in three years I had never bothered to ask what had taken Tyler ten minutes to discover.

“I thought he was so cute,” Susan said, pulling an electric carving knife out from under the counter, her blond hair falling in her face. “And he was actually interested in learning something new when I was offering him suggestions. So many people bristle, like you’re calling them stupid for trying to help them make a choice. I was just trying to help, and he understood that.”

“How did you two meet?” Dad asked, trying to sound casual, but not quite pulling it off.

Technically we had met when Kylie had started sleeping with Nathan. But I told him, “Tyler is my tutor.” It was true.

“What?” My dad laughed. “Since when do you need a tutor?” He clearly didn’t believe it.

“American Lit might as well be ancient Hebrew to me, so he helps me interpret the books I have to read.”

“Really?” Now I had my father’s attention. He looked at Tyler with a new respect.

“Yeah, you know how literal I am.”

“You come by that honestly.”

“Tyler’s been really helpful.”

“You had a B in the class before we started studying together,” Tyler reminded me. “You weren’t exactly a failure.”

“For these two, a
B is a failure,” Susan told him.

“Well, I think tutor is too strong a word. We really met through mutual friends and started studying together. She helps me with science and math.”

“Are you an English major?” Dad asked.

“No. I wish. I’m in the EMT program. I needed to do something that wouldn’t take four years and would guarantee me a job afterward. I do think I’ll like it if I can survive all the bio classes.”

“He’s graduating next semester,” I said, hearing the pride in my voice.

“Wow. That’s great.” Mental gymnastics were going on in my dad’s head, clearly.

“What about this guy?” Susan asked, touching Easton on his back as he leaned over the island, staring intently into a terrarium that my dad frequently fussed over. “What grade are you in, Easton?”

“Fifth,” he said, his words muffled from his fists shoved into his cheeks as he rested on his elbows.

“Do you like school?”

“No.”

“Well, at least he’s honest,” Dad said, amused.

Tyler wasn’t. He didn’t say anything, but I could see the thoughtful concern that crossed his face. He worried about his brothers, especially Easton, that was obvious to me. Frankly, he probably had a reason to. Jayden was easy to read, and he seemed like a happy enough teenager, especially under the circumstances. Easton might have a million thoughts running in his head, good or bad, and no one would ever know what they were. Or he might be thinking about a whole lot of nothing. It was impossible to say.

“Are you hungry, Easton?”

He shrugged.

“We are!” Susan’s dad, Bob, called from the family room. Jayden had sat down next to him and they seemed to be discussing something about the game. There was lots of pointing on Jayden’s part and head nodding from Bob.

Susan’s mother, Nancy, was knitting something. I was kind of hoping it was a scarf for me for Christmas. She made those fuzzy circle scarves that were like an acrylic barrier between your skin and the wind.

“Don’t be a grumpy old man,” Susan told her father. “We’re ready to eat. Everyone to the dining room.”

As they all shuffled in the direction of the dining room, I picked up a casserole dish of au gratin potatoes. “How are you, Aunt Molly?” I asked. She was staring at the front of my father’s refrigerator, water glass ready to fill, but I noticed she wasn’t pushing the button.

“Hmm?” She snapped out of it and focused on me. “Oh, fine. Just battling the dragons in the physics department, as usual. How are you?”

“I’m great.” I was. With the exception of Jess and Kylie, all my favorite people were in my house. I leaned closer to her. “Isn’t my boyfriend cute?” I whispered, curious about whether my aunt even thought in those terms anymore.

Her eyes widened and her gaze shifted across the room to Tyler, who was directing Easton where to sit at the dinner table. “Oh! I suppose so. He certainly is the epitome of masculinity, and females are hardwired to find the strongest males as attractive in order to guarantee their future offspring will have the greatest chance at survival.”

Huh. Now there was a completely nonsexy way to think about dating.