I shrugged. “Don’t mention it,” and I turned to Britney, as shenervously wrung her hands out over the pseudo-meatloaf, andsmiled. “Sowhat was the recipe called?”
“Um …” She furrowed her brows, her forehead crumpling in the wayit always did. Britney looked like a bulldog when she was deep in thought. Nota criticism; just an innocent observation. “I really can’t remember. Why?”
“Just wondering,” I quickly concluded, glancing over at Nate asshe scurried back into the kitchen.
I hoped he reflected the same thoughts in his eyes:It’s not afucking meatloaf, but all I saw was his cell phone in his hand, as heabsentmindedly thumbed through his inbox. “Nate,” I said flatly, and hegrunted. “Can you, uh … Can you put the phone away until after we eat?”
There was a delay in his reaction as his hazel eyes read anothersubject line, and I nudged my fingers against his thigh. He looked up then, sawmy stern glare, and sighed. “Kylie,” he said in a patronizing tone that neverceased to make me feel microscopic. “I left work early to be here for dinner,but I told you, that doesn’t mean I can just leave my job at the office.” Andhe was back to swiping across his screen, and I was back to staring at theso-called meatloaf, with the shame of being scolded searing my cheeks.
Devin’s hand held to his fork tightly and he edged further acrossthe table, pointing its prongs at Nate. “Hey, bro, how often do you really getto see her? You can’t put that thing down for a little while, just while weeat?”
I glanced across the table and smiled gratefully at my bestfriend, although it went unnoticed as Devin held his eyes on Nate. His browsfurrowing and his jaw ticking painfully.
Nate lowered the phone. “Oh. Sorry.Bro.”
Britney came out of the kitchen, her little blonde pigtailsswinging as she walked. “Boys, do weneedto fight? Why can’t we have anice dinner?”
“Yeah,boys,” I agreed, flashing a cheeky grin at Devin,and he rolled his eyes.
“Nobody’s fighting. Right, Nate?” he asked my boyfriend.
“Oh, not at all. The meatloaf looks great, Britney,” Nate saidwithout an ounce of sincerity in his voice, and I sighed.
I teased Devin a lot for his insistence on bringing home girlsdestined to only stick around for a date or two. Britney had been luckier,she’d had the privilege of being with him for a total of two weeks now. Icouldn’t understand why though, and I probably didn’t want to know anyway. Butin any case, I still teased him for his lack of commitment. However, after afew asshole boyfriends, I was now beginning to really get it. The untetheredstrings of non-commitment.
To be fair, Nate wasn’t always a jerk, but when he was, Iquestioned what the hell I had seen in him for those six months.
“So, Nate, how’s the, uh … business going?” Devin asked, spearingslices of meat for himself and Britney. “What is it you do again, anyway?”
“Well, for the thirtieth time, I’m in accounting at a law firm,and it’sgoinggreat, thank you. How about you? Build anythingworthwhile lately?”
On the surface, there was nothing inherently wrong about theircasual conversation, but Devin’s narrowed glares across the table, theaggressive stabs of his fork, and Nate’s impartial blinks told me otherwise.
“Actually, we just landed a housing complex deal, so yeah, I’d sayso.”
Britney nodded her encouragement. “Oh, wow, babe. That’s great.”
“Thank you,” he said with a polite smile in her direction. “It’llkeep us busy for the next several months, that’s for damn sure.”
“Where is it?” I asked, taking a slow sip of my iced tea.
“It’s awaysfrom here. Over inMiddletown. It’sactually rightby my old apartment.It’s crazy being back over there,” he said, his guard dropping a little as hetalked to me.
Ever since Trent and Brooke bought a house out in Stonington, andDevin moved in with me, we never had a reason to head up to Middletown.Nostalgia crept in and settled deep in my chest as I thought about our youngerdays.
“Wow, yeah, I should come by and check it out.” Nate sniffed hisannoyance at that, so I added, “Well, assuming we don’t have anything going on,right?” I said, touching his arm, and Devin frowned.
“I think he can handle you making plans without him.”
Nate twisted his lips. “Sure can. She does all the time, anyway.”
I sighed and decided to ignore the snide retort. “Anyway, Dev,you’re still playing tomorrow night, right?” I asked, changing the subject.
The annoyance was wiped clean from his face as he flashed me ahalf-smile. “Have I ever missed it?”
He never had, not since Black & Brewed opened in 2010. EveryWednesday, he played an acoustic set of original songs and covers, and everyWednesday, he brought me daisies. Like clockwork.
“You should come,” I said to Nate.
