Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“I’m all the fun,” I replied. I turned to Mom. “Also, Isaac spilled wine on the carpet upstairs.”
“You cheater!” he growled playfully.
“Isaac!” Mom yelped.
“I got most of it out! And don’t listen to him. It was actually all his fault. We…” He let the words trail off. Yes, he might be willing to make a silly joke that would embarrass me, but he wasn’t going to be truthful about what we’d been doing to cause the wine to spill.
“When we were teenagers,” Isaac started.
“Stop right there.” He wouldn’t. As if reading my mind, Isaac crossed his arms, giving me a challenging half-grin.
“Oh, this I have to hear,” Grandma said.
“It can’t be that bad if it was my Lane,” Nana added.
I knew exactly what Isaac was hinting. It was the story he’d teased about telling that night when Jayden was here years ago. And speaking of Jayden, he and I had stayed on good terms, talking every once in a while. He was dating a new man, and they seemed to be doing well. He’d had nothing to do with Salvador after that night at the party.
“You know I have my ways to get back at you,” I warned my partner. No sex for a month, I tried to tell him with my eyes, which was obviously a lie. I wanted Isaac all the time, but I was willing to fake the threat.
“Whatever you’re planning, I don’t think you could handle it,” Isaac replied, because of course he’d read between the lines and knew it was a lie.
“What happened all those years ago? I feel like this is something I need to know,” Mom said.
No, it really wasn’t. I wasn’t about to tell her, and I didn’t think Isaac would either.
Then Dad said—and it felt good to call him that again because he was my dad just as much as Isaac was the man I loved—“If this is about the time Lane decided he was going to do something wild for the first time in his life, took the car out before he had his driver’s license, and got that dent in the bumper, you’re also telling on yourself, Isaac. I believe it was you who tried to hide it from us, paid for the other car, and took our vehicle to get it fixed, all while thinking I had no clue what was happening.”
Both our mouths dropped open. That was exactly the story. Isaac had gotten his license before me. I hadn’t been all that interested, but then he was gone all the time with his friends, and I’d been feeling rebellious and anxious without him. I’d made it around the block before I’d gotten scared, pulled over, then proceeded to back into another car.
It had been Isaac I’d called. The neighbor had agreed to let us work off the damage that summer without telling our parents. Isaac had asked to borrow the car the next day, and he’d sat at the shop, waiting for it to get fixed, using money he’d earned at his part-time job.
But that had been our secret. Dad knew, and he hadn’t said anything?
“How…?” Isaac asked.
“In some things, you boys aren’t as sneaky as you think you are,” Dad replied.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, Timothy!” Mom playfully swatted him. Oops. It looked like he’d told on himself too. Everyone in the house laughed. “I just don’t know who I can trust anymore,” she joked.
“I love you, Mom.” Isaac squeezed her hand. “I wanted to tell you from the start.” He always called her Mom now too, and it meant a lot to both of them. It was clear every time Isaac said it.
“Suck-up,” I told him.
We had dinner, and then Mom passed out the cookies. There was laughter and games, conversation and more teasing each other. It was perfect. I loved our family so much. I couldn’t imagine our lives without this—the people who meant so much to us, those here in the room with us, and our friends, like Hutch and Ryder.
Today was the last day of the family get-together, and tomorrow our relatives would be heading home, so just before everyone was about to settle in for the night, I said, “I have a painting I want to show you guys.”
Isaac frowned but waited with everyone else while I went to get it from where I’d hidden it in the closet. I carried the canvas down, the white cloth over it so no one would see.
“Can you grab that easel by the door for me?” I asked Isaac, who went to get it. He stood it up beside me, and I set the painting on it. I nodded toward it, and he got a curious look on his face but took the cloth off.
Mom started crying the second she saw me on the canvas, on one knee, Isaac standing in front of me.