Dad: oh, yeah.
I shoved my phone back into my purse, angry and hurt. Even more, I was upset that they hadn’t waited. Why hadn’t they waited?
I pulled my phone back out on a whim and looked at my phone before deciding, fuck it.
I texted Callum.
Me: I miss you.
Callum: I miss you, too.
I sighed and went back to being hurt.
The text didn’t help.
In fact, I think it only hurt, because now I wanted to cry on top of being angry with my family.
I drove around town for a while, pissed off and wondering what to do. In the end, after an entire hour of being upset, I drove to the restaurant, and when I got inside, I glanced around, wondering if I could see them from the hostess stand.
And, sure enough, there they all were, in the middle of the restaurant, all eating and laughing without me.
The hostess came back up to the stand, her eyes frowning hard.
“Didn’t I…” She looked at the table where my family was sitting, then back to me with confusion.
I ignored the question that I knew was on the tip of her tongue and shrugged.
“Can I have that table right there? The one by the window?” I asked, feeling hurt start to leach into my throat.
Normally it took a really long time to get into the restaurant, but there were always tables for two—or, when I saw them, one person—because the restaurant owner felt like there should never be a wait for someone that had less than two.
Which ended up good for me because I wasn’t staying long.
I was getting my fix and leaving.
“You don’t want…” She pointed at the table across the room where my family sat.
There was even an empty chair.
“No, I don’t want.” I shook my head. “They left me.”
The hostess’s eyebrows went up, understanding dawning.
“Oh,” she nodded once, walking past the roll window and picking up not one basket of rolls, but two. Obviously, she realized that I was in an existential crisis and needed a carb overload. “I’ll get you right now. You want the window seat? Or do you want the one closest to the fish tank where they can’t see you?”
At Dune’s, you chose the window seat because it overlooked the lake. And the lake, especially at this time of the year, was freakin’ awesome. As in, it was so pretty, the lake made national magazines.
No matter what my mood, I was overlooking the lake.
After seating me, she walked away with a soft rap of knuckles against my table, then left me with my rolls and my thoughts.
It took a whole two seconds before the waiter was there, looking frazzled, to get my drink order.
Callum: where are you?
Me: I’m at a restaurant, sitting by myself, because my entire family decided to go eat without me.
Callum: Want me to come?
The offer made butterflies swim in my stomach.
Surely, a ‘bad guy’ like Teller tried to tell me Callum was wouldn’t offer to drive two hours because of me being sad.
Smiling, I texted back.
Me: No. I won’t be here that long. I’m going to grab something to eat and head back to a hotel in Dallas. I don’t think I’ll be staying here tonight.
Callum: Okay. Let me know when you’re on your way.
Usually, I wouldn’t be so butt hurt about my family forgetting me, they always did.
Even my brother, who I knew loved me, sometimes overlooked me.
It was hard to be the invisible child.
And only invisible children knew what it felt like.
My parents, though they loved me, never made much of an effort to really include me as they did my sister. Not because they were purposefully doing it, but because my sister was just that much more flamboyant. In your face. Needy.
I loved my sister, too. But I didn’t like that she got all the attention while I got what they remembered to give me.
Hell, even Anderson’s wife, Davina, liked my sister better than me.
“Here you are,” the waiter brought my drink over and set it down on the table next to the basket of rolls I’d polished off within two minutes. “Would you like to place your order now?”
I would’ve answered, but a commotion at the front of the restaurant had me glancing that way.
What I saw made my heart clang against my ribcage in adoration.
I saw the hostess and two waitresses gathered around the large picture window at the front. However, it wasn’t what was on the inside that had the women fascinated, but what was on the outside.
Through the large window I could make out a figure—a very bulky male—backing his bike up into the parking spot.
The sight of the cut on the man’s back had my heart all but stopping inside my chest.
Two minutes later, there he was walking in, hair looking wild, with a grin on his face that made my heart skip a beat.