That Thing You Do (Crystal Lake 2)

“She’s better than fine, if you want to know the truth. She’s living her life, hanging out with Kyle Langley, or other random men no one seems to know anything about. Which, you know, is fine and all, but not when she’s ignoring her best friend and—”

“And you’re the best friend?” his mother asked pointedly.

“Well, yeah,” he replied, sitting up straighter. “Who else would I be talking about?”

His mom sipped her coffee, though her eyes nailed him from over the rim. She set down the mug and pursed her lips. “If you ask me—”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Mom, but I didn’t ask you,” Nate replied.

She cleared her throat and gave him a look that said he was perilously close to that line he didn’t want to be anywhere near.

“If you ask me,” she repeated, slowly and methodically, like he was ten or something, “you’re acting like a man who’s been…” Her voice trailed off as she cocked her head to the side. She looked at him in a way that made him squirm, and she kept looking at him that way for a good minute before she spoke. “Nathan, you’re acting like a man who’s been cheated on. Wronged. Cuckolded.”

Cuckolded? What did that mean? He envisioned a pissed-off rooster running mad, screeching at the top of its lungs. Nate opened his mouth to respond, because, what the hell? But his mom held up her hand, and he knew better. By Christ, at the age of thirty, he had this part down pat.

“You’ve known Molly your entire life. Since, what age?” she asked, sounding entirely too conversational for his liking.

“Five,” he said, keeping his cool.

“Actually, you were four. I took you to Mary Poppins. Do remember Mary Poppins?”

His memory was fuzzy, but he did remember the daycare was located in the basement of the community center.

“You were heading off to kindergarten that fall, and you were such a little mama’s boy, I wanted you to get used to being away from me. So I took you two mornings a week that summer before school started. You met Molly the first day, and do you remember what you said to me when I picked you up?”

“No,” Nathan responded. “I was five.”

“Four.”

He did a mental eye roll but stayed silent.

“You told me that you met your best friend. And then you asked me if it was okay that she was a girl, not a boy. And I told you that girls made the best of friends.” A pause. “Do you remember what you said to that?”

He shook his head, though a memory floated in his mind. Long braids, purple T-shirt, big blue eyes that laughed when she looked at him. One missing front tooth.

“You told me she was your best friend forever because she had the nicest smile and she shared her fruit roll-up with you.” Another pause. “And because she ran faster than any of the kids at Mary Poppins, including all the boys. Except yourself, of course, but I think you were fibbing.”

All true. He said nothing.

“You and Molly have been friends for over twenty-five years, and like everything else, your friendship has evolved. There was a time when she was no different than her brother Zach or Stu or Brad. She liked the same things all of you did. Sports. Music. Television shows. She played hockey with you boys, and football too. Right up until she got that concussion. She was just one of the guys.”

“She still is,” he replied quickly, sitting up straighter.

“My God.” His mom threw her hands up in the air. “Why are men so damn dense?” She shook her head. “No, Nathan. She’s not just one of the boys, and she hasn’t been that for a long time. Do you remember your prom?”

Seriously? This conversation was all over the place. His mom wanted to talk about their prom? He’d taken Molly because Brett Smith had asked her, but when rumors started circulating that he’d asked her specifically because he’d lost a bet, Molly had been upset. In fact, up until then, he’d never even seen her cry. Nate convinced her to go to prom with him, said his girlfriend at the time, Samantha Boga, had strep and couldn’t go. He’d planned on dumping her after prom anyway. The girl was talking about his future in the NHL as if she was gonna be in on that shit. It was two problems solved at once.

He and Molly went to prom together, he had a great time because she didn’t make him feel like he had to dance with her or anything, and at the after-party, he’d hooked up with a girl from the neighboring county who’d crashed the party, and he’d managed to get lucky more than once. The night had been a big win for him. Taking Molly to prom had been the smartest thing he’d done. There’d been no expectation and he’d been able to relax, have fun, and to whatever the hell he wanted.

“What about prom?” he asked, curious to see where his mother was going with this.

“Do you remember what color dress she wore?”

“The color of her dress? Are you kidding me?” Nate’s mouth might have fallen open.

“No. I’m not.” His mother looked him right in the eye, and he knew she expected an answer. He swore under his breath and shrugged.

“I don’t know. Blue? Maybe?”