He narrows his gaze at me and shakes his head.
I take a bite of pasta salad to hide my grin.
“Sorry, Ma.” He stands and lowers his shoulder, hoisting Lou up in a fireman’s carry.
“Hey! Put me down.” Lou is kicking his feet, and it’s kind of hilarious. “I was practicing for the pranks.”
Mack cuts another glance in my direction, and I can’t quite read his gaze. His dark-chocolate hair is longer on the top, and a tuft has fallen into his eyes. He’s carrying Lou as if the man weighs nothing. Lou isn’t a giant, to be sure, but it’s still impressive that Mack can hold him up there like he’s a feather. His expression doesn’t change when he sees me staring at him, but he mumbles something to Lou.
Mack spins so Lou—still upside-down—is looking at me. He gives me a giant grin and swats Mack on the butt. Mack tosses him down and goes back to stoking the fire.
They launch into some other conversation that I can’t hear, but Patrick is doing a lot of talking with his hands.
I have no idea what pranks Lou was referring to, but regardless, they seem like a group of people I’d like to get to know. Like they like to have fun. I could use some fun friends, and I want to invest myself in this community.
I’m about to make my excuses to Darla and go join the crowd that’s my own age when she says, “Then there’s the whole Tricia situation. An absolute mess.”
“Tricia?” I’ve tuned Darla out to this point, and I’m afraid I might have missed some information pertinent to Holland or the family history. I rack my brain to try to remember when and where I’ve heard the name Tricia before.
“Tricia Rattler. Well, she’s Tricia Reynolds now. I don’t know if I can ever truly forgive him for that.”
It comes to me then. She’s the woman who’s in charge of kids’ games for Party at the Park. I press my lips together. I’ve missed something. “I’m sorry. Forgive who?”
“Mack. For ruining his life—not to mention his reputation, and spoiling the Bradley name—by breaking that girl’s heart. He should have married her. I could be a grandma by now.”
I blink. This is a lot of information to take in. Here’s what I’ve gathered:
Mack dated a woman named Tricia, who is still around town.
There must’ve been a messy break up if it affected his reputation and the entire Bradley family.
Darla Bradley wants grandchildren.
She’s eyeing my relatively flat mid-section as if it is a launchpad to all of her dreams.
“Do you want kids, dear? You look like you have the hips for it.”
I nearly choke on a chunk of watermelon. “Uh … I do. Someday. And … thank you?” I’m going to assume Darla had good intentions and was issuing me a hip-focused compliment.
She beams at me. “Excellent. Excellent. Holland does too. He’s going to be a wonderful father. He’s so caring, and kind, and good looking.”
“Very good looking,” I echo, though I’m not sure that has any bearing on him being a good father. My dad was quite handsome, and look where that got us.
I blink to clear my mind. This conversation is getting out of hand. I can’t say I expected meeting Holland’s parents—without him—to be without incident, but I didn’t prepare myself for a frank discussion about family planning, Holland’s merits as a future father, and my childbearing hips.
6
Surly After All
Mack
Ishouldbedoingsomething productive, like sleeping. Instead, I’ve dinked around my house since dropping Poppy off after family dinner, and I haven’t been able to focus. Dinner was fine. Fun, even, with Lou and Patrick. Poppy seemed to have a nice time too, which is good, I guess.
The problem lies with me. I always end up coming home after Sunday dinners feeling unsettled. It’s like all the walls I’ve built around my heart to keep my insecurities from spilling out into the open fall away, and I’m left raw and exposed.
Family can do that to you, I guess.
So, here I sit. I’m outside on my deck, listening to the crickets chirp from the wooded area and the creek that runs through my backyard. I’m staring up at the sky because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that since I read Poppy’s email earlier today. I’m realizing that she’s right. The sky is so majestic—so expansive. The stars, when you stop to think about them, will blow your mind.
