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Authors: Katrina Penaflor

Under the Surface (27 page)

BOOK: Under the Surface
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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ren

“Why do we even put marshmallows on yams
anyway?”
My cousin Clarissa asks her mom—my Aunt June—as she tries to slyly
pick a toasted marshmallow off the top of the side dish.

“Because it
tastes good?”
She replies with a shrug to her shoulders. “But now that you
mention it, marshmallows on top of a vegetable is a pretty gross idea.”
Aunt June joins Clarissa in picking marshmallows off.

My dad walks
by the two women in the kitchen and tries to brush their hands away. “No
picking at the food, June.”
He says to his sister. She
just appeases him by taking her hands away, but as soon as my dad walks past
them she begins eating the marshmallows again.

June,
Clarissa, my dad, Emmy and I are all standing in the kitchen. My dad is working
on finishing a few dishes for Thanksgiving, and Emmy and I are in charge of the
mashed potatoes.

“What now?”
Emmy asks me. I put her in charge of mashing the potatoes. She’s
done a great job of smashing them up in the pot.

“Now we add
the warm milk and butter.”
I take the saucepan of melted
butter and warm milk and add it to the potatoes.

Emmy mixes it
all together. I add salt and pepper. “Oh, one more thing.”
I tell Emmy. I go to the fridge and grab a package of cream
cheese. “The secret ingredient,”
I say.

Emmy wrinkles
her nose at me. “That sounds worse than marshmallows on yams.”

“Trust me.
This will make them crazy good. My mom used to do this. My dad nearly had a
heart attack the first time he saw her add cream cheese, but the mashed
potatoes were the best I ever had.”

I add this every
time I make mashed potatoes, my dad does the same. It’s one of those things
that always reminds us of her. It’s still tough for me that she isn’t here to
celebrate the holidays. All these years later, and it still hasn’t gotten
easier.

“Ren?”
Emmy shakes me of my thoughts. “How much do I add?”

“Half that,”
I point to the package. She cuts the cream cheese into cubes and
adds it to the potatoes.

“Can we taste
them now?”
She asks me with a smile. Emmy looks so cheerful. She started the
day being nervous. It took her an hour to pick out what she was going to wear,
because she was worried about showing up dressed in the wrong thing. I told her
my family dressed up a little for dinner, but anything she wore would probably
work. She finally decided on a light blue dress. It’s sleeveless and cut in a
style that shows off her small waist. She also wore her hair straight today. It
looks so long and smooth and nearly reaches the center of her back.

I think she
finally warmed up and calmed down a bit after meeting my family members. They
of course loved her, and Clarissa, who

s sixteen, instantly took
a liking to Emmy. Clarissa talked to Emmy until she felt comfortable. She also
distracted her as I handled the constant questions from my aunts and uncles
about my new girlfriend.
How did you meet? How long have you been together?
Is it serious? How did you snag such a hot girl?
That last one came from my
cousin Michael.

I get two
spoons from the drawer next to the stove and pass one to Emmy. We both taste
the potatoes and Emmy closes her eyes in satisfaction.

“You’re
right. These are the best ever,”
Emmy says and continues
to scoop up more with her spoon.

“Told you.
Mom knew what she was talking about when she made this. Now stop eating the
potatoes. If we show up with nothing left for the table, people are going to be
mad.”

Emmy frowns
at me before dropping her spoon on the counter in defeat.

My dad comes
over to us. “Ren, Emmy, can you two put the mashed potatoes in a dish and put
them on the table please.”

“On it, Pops.”

“Emmy, please
scold him for that comment. I need to get the rest of the food ready.”

“Stop calling
Richard, Pops. It makes him feel old.”

I give her an
exasperated look. “Stop calling my dad, Richard, it makes me cringe.”

“He’s the one
who told me to stop calling him Mr. Warren, and you’ve heard me say it a
million times, and now you bring up the argument. You’re only saying that
because I backed him up.”

“Children,
children, trouble in paradise?”
My cousin Michael puts himself
between us and places his hands on our shoulders.

I don
’t like that he’s
referring to us as children, when I’m only two years younger than he is.

“No. Ren is
just being Ren,”
Emmy tells Michael.

“And Emmy is
just being Emmy,”
I add.

Michael looks
to Emmy. “You pick your seat at the table yet?”

“Yeah, I’m
sitting next to Clarissa and Ren.”

Michael
places his hand on his chest, faking heartache. “And you couldn’t choose a seat
next to me, Emmy?”

I want to
comment on the fact that he should call her Emilie, but she’s introduced herself
as Emmy to everyone, so I can’t get mad about it. And it’s probably unfair of
me to be acting jealous when I know Michael is just teasing.

“No,”
I comment.
“She
couldn’t.”

“Emmy,”
someone, I think Clarissa, calls from the dining room table. Emmy
excuses herself and leaves.

I catch
Michael checking Emmy out as she walks away.

“And I
thought you scored with Lyla. Shit. This one’s hot
and
nice. She got a
sister?”

“Only child.
And don’t bring up Lyla.  She’s old news.”

“She’s
single, right?”

Yes, and she’s
also a cheater.

“You don’t
want to be with her, Michael, trust me.”

“If she looks
anything like I remember her looking, then yeah, I want to be with her.”

I shake my
head. I don’t want to have this conversation. Michael never knew that I broke
up with Lyla because she cheated on me. He thinks things just “didn’t work
out.”

Michael
leaves to join the family at the table.
Let him think what he wants.

I’m about to
follow behind him when I notice everyone is at the table but my dad. I see his
place missing—and he’s not in the kitchen anymore.

I look
around, he’s nowhere in sight. I check the door for the bathroom that’s just
past the kitchen, but he isn’t there. I hear a door creak in the back hallway
and go in that direction.

Through the
halfway-opened door of the laundry room I spot my dad. His back is to me and he
turns when I open the door. I can see that he’s been crying.

“Dad?”

He wipes his
remaining tears with the backs of his hands. We both know why he’s crying.

“I kept telling
myself it would be easier this year. I was wrong.” My dad says, staring at a
random spot on the floor. He takes a deep breath. “When we spoke earlier about
this, and I told you I was fine, I really thought I was. It only hit me when I
took out her favorite glassware.” He wipes his eyes again. I remember our
conversation when I first got to the house. We both spoke about mom, and my dad
wasn’t as emotional as he is in this moment.

I wrap my
arms around my father. He embraces me and I know I need to be strong for him
right now. “It
will
get easier, but only as we get stronger,” I tell
him. My dad takes a few more deep breaths before stepping back.

He nods to
agree. “God, when did you grow up?” He says lightly.

I laugh. “I
don’t know. I think Emmy has something to do with it.”

My dad smiles
at me, looking much better than he did a few minutes ago. We walk back to the
kitchen. He takes a look at the dining table full of our family and Emmy. She
fits perfectly among the group.

“Yeah,” my
dad says. “I think she does too.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Emilie

“You’re very naked,”
I say to Ren. And he is
very
naked. And still covered in a
thin sheen of water from our recent shower.

“So are you,”
Ren says. He’s on top of me on the couch. Both of us refusing to
put our clothes back on. Ren leans down and licks a few drops of water that
coat my neck. I shiver from the feeling.

I pull Ren
towards me to give him a kiss, but we’re quickly interrupted by a knock at the
door.

“Fucking
Mason,”
Ren mutters. “He never remembers his keys.”


Hello,

I motion to our naked bodies. “It’s kind of a good thing Mason
forgot his keys.”
I smile
at Ren.

“I guess
you’re right, but I wish he wasn’t here.”

“Maybe I
should answer the door. That’ll be a surprise.”
I’m laughing and
Ren’s face is equally less serious.

“No. You’ll
give our poor friend a heart attack. Now get into my room, we’re not finished
here.”
He pauses. “Actually, stay here. I’ll tell him to leave.”
Ren gets off me and the couch. I snag a nice view of him from
behind as he grabs the blanket that was thrown over the chair in the living
room. “I recall doing a similar thing the first night you slept here.”

Ren tosses
the blanket on top of me, covering my face and body in the process.

“What if he
comes in here and wants to sit down?”
I ask through the
blanket. If he does it’s going to be a struggle to keep myself from laughing.

“Leave that
to me. And if he grabs the blanket—run.”

“Got it.”
I laugh, unable to hide my anticipation.


And no laughing, Emmy.

The knocks on the door get louder. “Hold up!”
Ren yells at Mason. I hear him run to his room, probably to put on
pants, and runs back to the front door.

I hear it
open and instead of the laughter I expect to hear between Mason and Ren,
there’s silence.

“What are you
doing here?”
Ren asks the person at the door. From the confused sound of Ren’s
voice, I can tell it’s not Mason. I want to turn and see who it is, but I’m
covered in a freakin’ blanket. And I’m naked.

“I’ve texted
you, but I haven’t heard anything back.”

It’s a woman
speaking. And she’s talking about texting Ren.

Who is it?

But as soon
as I ask myself the question I figure out the answer. It has to be Lyla, Ren’s
ex.

“That doesn’t
give you an excuse to show up here.”
Ren is talking calmly, but
I can tell he’s holding back his anger and frustration.

“Please, Ren.
Let me in. I really need to talk to you.”

Don’
t let her in.

“No, Lyla. I
can’t do that.”

Yeah, because
I’m here. His girlfriend. His new, beautiful, won’t-cheat-on-him girlfriend.

“Ren, this is
really important. I need to talk to you. It’s—”

I cut her
off. “Ren,”
I say to get his attention. I sit up and use the blanket to barely
cover my body. My face and bare shoulders are visible from the above the couch.

He turns to
me. I can see the look of despair on his face. From where he’s standing, I can
barely make out parts of Lyla. All I see is long blonde hair, pin straight, and
a sleeve of a leather jacket.

“Oh…someone’s
here? You have company.”
Ren shifts from where he’s standing so Lyla
can get a look at me.

“Yes,”
I say. “He does.”

Okay, this is
a bitch move, but Lyla really needs to leave. Ren already told her that she
can’
t come in.

Lyla looks at
me. This is the first time I’ve seen her. She’s even more gorgeous than I
pictured. Her makeup is perfect. Her hair is perfect. Her eyebrows are perfect.
Not one piece is out of place. Her clothes look expensive—and oh yeah, perfect.
And she has, you guessed it, the perfect body. Small waist, huge boobs, and
long legs.

I hate her.
Every jealous bone in my body is lighting up like a rocket right now. I hope
she sees me sitting here, naked, and in Ren’s house, and she gets jealous of me
too. Holding that thought is the only thing keeping me from turning into a
complete psycho bitch right now.

We do nothing
but stare at each other. It’s honestly a little weird. I’m sizing her up and
she’s probably doing the same to me. I’m waiting for Ren to say something, or
make some sort of move back into the house, but he’s just standing there,
shirtless, looking like he has no clue what to do.

I decide to
speak, and continue with my rude attitude towards Lyla. “We were kind of in the
middle of something.”
I tell her. Yes, it’s completely bitchy,
but she needs to leave.

Lyla turns to
Ren, and she has the nerve to look to him for backing.

Not going to
happen.

“You really
need to leave now, Lyla.”
Ren tells her. “I’m serious.”

“But when can
we talk?”

Ren scratches
the back of his neck. “
I
don
’t know. Maybe in a few days, but I can’t even promise you that.”

Lyla looks to
me one more time before turning her attention back to Ren. “I’ll call you. And
please consider it. It’s really important.”

She walks
away. Ren looks at me and I look at him. Telling him with my eyes,
what the
hell was that?

“Don’t give
me that look, Emmy. I had no idea she was coming here, and I’m just as angry
seeing her as you are. I just restrained myself better.”
He joins me on the couch.

“I restrained
myself. Trust me.”

“You didn’t
strike me as the jealous type.”

“That’s
because I’ve never had someone to get jealous over. But now I do, and I didn’t
like the way she looked at you…Are you really going to talk to her later?”

Ren looks at
this fidgeting fingers, thinking. “
I don
’t know. I think I might, just to see what
she has to say. I haven’t spoken to her in a long time, and I’m sort of hoping
for an apology.” He shakes his head. “That sounds so cheesy and stupid.
Also…I’m not sure about this, but something was off with her. Something—aside
from her randomly showing up—seemed wrong. I don’t know what I’m going to do
about her, but from your reaction it seems like you don’t want me to go.”

I wonder what
that could be. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, I think I could handle it if
you talked to her in someplace public. But I don’t like the thought of her
coming over here.”

“So I can
talk to her somewhere in public? You would be okay with that?”

I think about
it. Yes, I wouldn’t be thrilled, but now
I’m
wondering what she has to say
after all this time, and what could be going on with her that Ren has a bad
feeling about.

I nod to
answer. “But during the day,” I state. “I feel like such a jealous girlfriend
right now demanding all this, but Lyla doesn’t seem like the nicest chick around.
I don’t want her to pull one over on you.”

Ren looks at
me seriously. “She won’t, and trust me, I wouldn’t fall for any of that.
Nothing will happen when I talk to her. I’ll just hear what she has to say. It’ll
keep her from texting me and from showing up here again.”

A sound plan.
“I do trust you. But I want her gone. For good.”

“So do
I
. This will hopefully,
finally
, move her out of my
life for good. Even though I thought that happened a long time ago.”

“Whoa! Looks
like I just walked into a little NC-17 action.”

Ren and I
both look to Mason who is standing on the opposite side of the couch.

Neither of us
heard him walk in.

He places his
forearms on the couch, resting his head on top. He takes into account my state
of undress, except for the blanket and gives me a cheeky smile while raising
his eyebrows.

I shake my
head in faked exasperation.

Ren grabs the
bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“Can I join
in?”
Mason asks, while holding back a laugh.

“No!”
Ren and I shout in unison.

Mason just
hollers in laugher as he walks to his room.

BOOK: Under the Surface
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