"No," I snapped. "It's not just a salad. You don't get it. This? It's a big deal. Because everything's a big deal."
Still driving, Lawton reached for my hand. "C'mon, what is it?"
I couldn't bring myself to pull away. And for once, it had nothing to do with my crazy, mixed-up feelings for him.
His hand felt big and strong, and so much steadier than my own was. Between the car trouble and my own clumsiness, I was feeling a growing sense of dread. What if things went downhill from here?
"Nothing," I said with a shake of my head. "It's fine. Watch the road, alright?"
It wasn't fine, of course. If the salad turned out to be the thing that sent Loretta over the edge, I'd be kicking myself all the way there and back. I took a deep breath and tried to steady my nerves.
I dealt with Loretta all the time. But today, she was already on the warpath. I'd be inside that house for at least a couple hours, tripping over land mines everywhere I stepped. If one of those things blew up, it wouldn’t be just me getting hurt.
Our last holiday had been so awful. What if this one went the same way?
I couldn’t let it. No way. I wouldn't let it happen. Not this time. I leaned back and shut my eyes as tight as I could, and not because of our decidedly unsafe speed.
"Aw c'mon," Lawton said, "it can't be that bad."
"I hope you're right," I said. "And this time, you'll be there, so—" I shrugged and let the sentence trail off.
"So? Go on."
"Well, normally they're a lot nicer in front of strangers." I opened my eyes to look at him. "And you're a stranger to them, so—" I shook my head. "Crap, I don't know. What if it backfires?"
"Chloe?" His voice was low. "Are you scared?"
I turned to look out the window. "No."
He was quiet for a moment, and then he said, "Baby, what is it?"
I remembered my vow. No more lies, no more secrets. "Okay, here's the thing." I blew out a breath. "I almost never go there, and when I do, it's always awful."
"What's so awful about it?"
"Like my dad," I said, "Whenever he has company over, he starts talking funny."
"How so?"
"Well, he's a commercial real estate broker–"
"A salesman?"
"Basically," I said. "So he's always trying to bond with whoever he's talking to, but he never gets it quite right."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, one time, Loretta had this Australian couple over for dinner, and by the time we hit dessert, my dad's talking in this weird accent, more English than anything."
Lawton's brow wrinkled. "But you said they were Australian, right?"
"Yeah, and the harder my dad tries to show that he's exactly like them, the worse everything gets. They start talking less. He starts talking more." I shook my head. "I'm pretty sure they thought my dad was making fun of them."
Lawton laughed. "Aw c'mon, that's not so bad."
"I guess," I said. "And actually, it's a lot better than how he acts when it's just family."
"How so?"
