Pretending Hearts (23 page)

I rolled my eyes. “At least playing pro has finally humbled you.”

“Missed you too, Del,” he said in a teasing tone.

Before I could reply, a waitress strode over to the table. “Hi, my name is Karen. What can I get the two of you to drink?” I opened up my mouth to reply, but Karen cut me off. “I just want to say I’m like one of your biggest fans. I can’t believe you’re back here at Cook.” Karen was blushing and stammering and I could tell she was star-struck by my brother.

“Thanks. I’m glad to be back,” Blake said magnanimously. “We took biology together, right?”

“Yes! I can’t believe you remembered!” Karen practically shouted. I narrowed my eyes at the brunette while she continued to stare in awe at my brother. “We play the Warriors’ games here every Sunday. The place is packed. The whole restaurant was screaming when you made that touchdown in the third quarter last week. If you wouldn’t mind signing a few t-shirts we have, we could offer them for giveaways during the next game.”

“Do you mind?” I scowled at Karen. “I’ll take a Coke and a bacon cheeseburger.” I snapped my menu closed.

Blake frowned in my direction before turning a megawatt smile on Karen. “Sorry, me and my sister were just catching up. Can you get me a grilled chicken sandwich and a bottled water? I can sign those shirts before I leave.”

Karen looked uncertainly in my direction before giving Blake a sheepish smile. “Okay, no problem. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

Karen left and I leaned back into my chair. I folded my arms in front of my chest and waited for Blake to give me hell.

“What was that? She was only being nice.” He sounded more drained than angry as he spoke. I was reminded of how he spoke to our mom—as if conversing with her had the power to suck a person’s soul dry.

“I’m not in the mood to deal with your ‘fans’ today,” I said using air quotes. “Besides how would Autumn feel about you flirting with waitresses?”

Finally, I appeared to get a reaction out of him. “I wasn’t flirting with her. In case you failed to notice, I was just in the middle of a huge scandal and I’m trying not to make things worse for us. Being rude to a fan would end up starting a hashtag on Twitter called #PrickPreston.”

I gave him a genuine smile. “Or #BitchyBlake.” I shook off my irritation. “I’m sorry. It’s been a bad week. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you and I don’t want to spend our entire time together shooing off your fan club.”

“I get it, Del. But I’m second string. Cook may be the only place I’m bombarded with fans,” he said reasonably. He tilted his head as he watched me. “How are your classes going? Any majors jumping out at you?”

“My classes are fine and I like my professors.” I paused as Karen came back with our beverages. I grumbled out a thank you as she lingered for a second too long. Finally, she spun on her heel and headed to another table. I continued, “I was actually thinking about taking a few photography classes.”

He took a swig of his water as he seemed to consider what I had said. “I could see you doing something in that area. Your pictures were amazing, especially the candid ones you used to take during holidays.”

We both fell silent at the mention of family holidays. Blake had football as an excuse for not attending Thanksgiving, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t be returning home often for future holidays. Things would never be the same.

“How’s Autumn?” I tried to sound normal, but I could hear the cutting tone that had snuck into my voice.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “What’s going on with you? I thought you were starting to accept our relationship. But Autumn says you haven’t returned any of her calls or emails.”

“I never said I was okay with it. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay with the entire situation,” I shot back.

“Del, we’ve been over this—”

I held up my hand. “You made your choice. I understand that. You believe Autumn’s side. You believe Dad attacked her.” I drummed my fingers on the table before continuing. “How did she forgive you though? All those months, you lied to her. You pretended to be someone you weren’t.”

My question was loaded—because I had resentments I was unable to let go. I wasn’t furious with Blake, but he was in front of me at the moment. I was incensed over Wyatt and how he had pretended to care about me. Now, I could be forever tied to a boy who was not the man he promised to be.

Blake looked ready to bolt and I was instantly regretful. Maybe I’d never understand his motives or why he chose to give his heart to someone we had once believed fractured our family. I opened up my mouth to apologize, but Blake didn’t let me finish my thought. “I never talk to you about what happened between Autumn and me because I’ve been trying to protect you. The truth is I got close to Autumn because I was trying to get answers about what happened between her and Thomas. Either she was going to exonerate him or prove his guilt.”

“And she convinced you Dad was guilty?”

He shook his head and sighed heavily. “She didn’t have to say anything to convince me. What Autumn went through…. She was different. She didn’t know Thomas was my stepfather, so there was never any act she put on as a way to sway me to believe her version over Thomas’s. There was never an affair.”

I felt my throat start to close up. “I’ve been around Autumn and tried to give her a chance. I see how she loves you and I do find it hard to picture her making false accusations.” I dropped my voice low and leaned closer. “But he’s my dad, Blake, and I don’t know if I can walk away from him for good. But I also don’t know how to love someone who everyone else says is bad.” And the bad seeds would continue to sow in an endless cycle. The cycle began with my father and me and would continue with the child I conceived with Wyatt.

Blake’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know, Delia. I can’t tell you how to feel. I guess I shouldn’t have pushed you to be friends with Autumn. But I love you both and I guess in my perfect world the two of you would be close too.”

“We don’t have to talk about this,” I said in a rush. “I’m being a huge downer although I vowed not to bring up the past. Let’s start over.”

“Okay, but I want you to know that nothing will change our relationship. I may never want to see Thomas again, but I’ll love you no matter what,” he promised.

His sentiment touched me more than he realized. Because I needed his reassurances he’d be there for me no matter what happened. I didn’t know if I would go through with the pregnancy, but I was suddenly certain Blake wouldn’t love me any less if I decided to have a baby.

“Don’t you remember our no calorie counting rule for Thanksgiving?” my mother said tightly, pointing at the food I’d been pushing around my plate.

I shrugged. “No appetite I guess.”

My mother grabbed the napkin on her lap and tossed the fabric on the table. “Delia, there’s no sense in starving yourself if you’re not going into modeling.”

I grimaced. “I’m not starving myself. I just don’t feel very well.”

I’d woken up in my old bed with horrendous nausea. I hoped the sensation would pass and only had come about from my unease over being home. My childhood home felt like a living and breathing entity. The house had borne witness to a family’s collapse. The claustrophobia commenced from the moment I walked in the door.

At dinner, my stomach lurched each time I brought the fork up to put a morsel of food into my mouth. I hated having symptoms of my pregnancy. Being sick made it seem more real somehow. If I felt exactly the same, then I could continue to pretend I didn’t have a life-altering decision to make.

I had the number of the clinic in my purse. All week, I had taken the phone number out and tried to build up enough nerve to make the call and set up the abortion. I tried to tell myself it was the option that made the most sense. I could go in pregnant and a couple of hours later leave and be back to my old self.

But the question was, would I actually be the same? Did a girl end a pregnancy and not come out altered in some way? And then although I resolved to not allow Wyatt to alter my decision, I had to admit he was taunting me in the back of my brain. Because I kept thinking what if he hadn’t been the one to get me pregnant. What if Levi had been the one? Would I still feel like I did?

“Well, I hope you’ll have an appetite for dessert. I made the caramel apple pie you love,” my mother said and began clearing off the dishes from our dining room table. “Your father is going to stop over for coffee and pie.”

I snapped to attention. “What? I thought I was meeting him at Michael’s Diner for dessert.”

“You were, but unfortunately the tabloids haven’t let the story about him and your brother completely die. We thought it best if the two of you didn’t go out anywhere in public.” At my questioning stare, she added, “I didn’t want you hassled on a holiday.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But won’t it be weird for you to have him back at the house?”

My mother gave me a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be fine. We were on civil terms not too long ago. I guess the recent stories reminded me we can never go back.”

I nodded, but didn’t comment. Wouldn’t we all wish for a time machine? My phone beeped and although my mom frowned at the interruption, I reached for it. Levi had sent me a photo message of a lasagna and the caption:
My mom’s idea of Thanksgiving.

I smiled and typed back a quick message to tell him to have a great holiday and I’d call him when I got back to town. Once I hit send, I noticed my mom watching me with a strange expression on her face.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she replied and picked up another plate from the table.

“Mom, you’re one of the few people I know who can say a thousand words with a single look.”

“You had a very sweet smile on your face when you checked your phone. I was wondering if a boy put that smile there.” Her eyebrows waggled up and down suggestively.

“He’s a friend,” I supplied.

“Only a friend? Nothing more?” she questioned.

I shifted under her penetrating stare. “I don’t know. I like him, but I’m not sure if we’ll work out.”

“Well, you only started school. You don’t have to tie yourself to the first guy who shows an interest,” she advised.

I made a non-committal sound in the back of my throat. For a second, I wished for a Hallmark moment. I could tell my mom about my pregnancy and she would gather me up in her arms and promise to make me okay again.

But that wasn’t reality. The reality was my mom had a cutthroat survivalist streak. If she found out I was pregnant, and pregnant by a senator’s son, she’d want me to use the pregnancy to leverage myself a better position in society.

The doorbell rang, putting an end to the conversation. My mom walked over and ruffled my hair. “Well whoever he is, I hope he’s treating you well. Finding a good man these days is almost as difficult as hitting the Pick Six.”

My mom headed to the door to allow my dad inside. My muscles tensed as I heard their whispered voices at the entrance. For weeks, I’d only spoken to my dad in short snippets, as he peppered me with questions:
How is school? How are you? Do you need anything?
My answers were just as brief as his questions:
School is good. I’m fine. No I don’t need anything.

My dad entered the dining room and gave me a warm smile. A parent's love was the most manipulative form of affection that ever existed. As disconcerted as I was about my past, I couldn’t prevent my knee-jerk reaction. I was glad to see him.

“Hi, sweetie,” he said as I got up from my chair. He gave me a hug and feeling his arms around me gave me an overwhelming sense of sadness. I felt like I was on the cusp of my life changing forever. I couldn’t keep pretending anymore and hoping things would change on their own. Being pregnant had taught me I could no longer forfeit control, cross my fingers and hope for the best.

I sat back down while my parents joined me at the table. I could feel their eyes assessing me as I avoided their invasive stares. I glanced down at Blake’s vacated chair with quiet acceptance. His seat would always remain empty. Our family was never going back to the time before Autumn. I couldn’t keep holding onto hope that one day he and Autumn would break up and we could restore our wholesome all-American family. He wasn’t ever returning home to take back his place as the dedicated son.

“I tried calling you all week. Did you get any of my messages?” my father asked as he settled his weight into the chair.

“Blake came up to the college this week,” I said and shifted my body to face my parents. My father’s expression was confused while my mom averted her eyes and began to cut into the apple pie she had set on the table.

“Oh?” my mom said, falsely trying to emulate a disinterested tone.

“Yes, he couldn’t stay long because of today’s game, but we did have lunch,” I said.

“He called me this morning,” my mother said while still keeping her eyes fixed on the pie. She looked uncomfortable as she said with forced optimism, “He promised to come and see us for Christmas.”

My father crossed his arms in front of him and leaned further back. “Don’t need to spell it out, Cassie. I understand I won’t get an invitation for dessert when he’s back around.”