Fortuity (Transcend 3)

He stares at me without blinking for several seconds. “Wow … okay. I thought we had developed some sort of team effort to deal with them. Apparently not.”

When he turns back toward his house, I grab his arm. “Whoa … whoa … wait. Where are you going? Are you seriously mad at me? It’s not a big deal. Can’t you just trust me and be patient? Wait for Morgan to tell you in her own time?”

“You’re letting them pit us against each other. You’re protecting him when he just needs to be honest with everyone. You’re acting like an accomplice not a parent.”

I release his arm. “You’re just pissed off that Gabe’s not afraid to tell me the truth. Maybe if you stopped trying to control her so much, she might not lock you out of her room … out of her life.”

He opens his mouth to reply but closes it just as quickly and walks away. I fight the urge to stop him again, to try again to reason with him. I’m no better than Gabe at explaining my feelings without offending anyone.

“We’re loaded up.”

I turn toward my dad’s voice as he, Nate’s dad, and Mr. Hans head my way with bags of groceries. “Hey. Great.” Fake smiles have never been easy for me, but I do my best. Our parents are here. Mr. Hans is excited about our grilling plans tonight, and it’s a holiday. I’m not going to let two ten-year-olds ruin this.

“Which place?” Dad asks when they reach the boardwalk.

“Mine …” I grin at Mr. Hans. “Yours.” I wink.

He chuckles as I lead them up the stairs. “Technically, they’re both mine.”

The men deposit the groceries on the island, and my mom and I start unpacking everything.

“Beer?” Mr. Hans opens the fridge.

David and my dad perk up and take cans from him as he hands them out.

“We’re good. We have food to prepare.” I wink when he holds up two more cans for us.

He shrugs. “Okay, we’ll just get out of your way then.”

The guys disappear to the deck.

“How did things go with Nathaniel?” Mom asks as I wash vegetables.

“Not good. I don’t think he adheres to the same team motto. He thinks I’m supposed to be on his team, not Gabe’s. He’s upset that Gabe told me what happened, but I wouldn’t tell him because I don’t want to break my promise to Gabe. If it were something major, something life threatening, I’d say something.”

“Maybe you should say something to Morgan. Woman to woman.”

“But I’m Team Gabe.”

She grins while taking the scrubbed potatoes and peppers from me to cut up. “You don’t have to talk to her about Gabe. Talk to her about Nathaniel. Maybe get her to open up to him.”

“You want me to be Team Nate?”

“Oh, baby …” She eyes me with an ornery grin. My grin. We share the same smile. “I’m quite certain you were Team Nate before we arrived.”

I frown, returning my attention to the running water and veggies. “He’s mad at me.”

“Lovers’ quarrel.”

“We’re not lovers.” I laugh.

“Have you kissed him?”

I scrub the last few layers really hard. “Can you believe Morgan had never been to Disneyland? Nate doesn’t like stuff like that. I guess he thinks it’s too commercialized. He’s in for a rude awakening when she goes to public school this fall.”

Mom nods slowly while cutting potatoes. “So he’s a really good kisser?”

I grin. “Yeah … he’s a phenomenal kisser.”

“Go.” She turns, pointing the knife at me. “I’ve got this. Go make things right. Go be Team Nate.”

I narrow my eyes, not wanting her to be right all the time, even if she is. “Fine.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Nathaniel

As I drink a much-needed beer on the deck with the rest of the guys, Gracelyn shuffles her flip-flop clad feet in our direction.

“Mom need help?” her dad asks.

She shakes her head, climbing the stairs. “No. We thought it would be best if I came over here to check on Morgan.”

“What’s wrong with Morgan?” Dad asks me.

“Nothing. She’s fine.” I take a swig of my beer, eyeing Gracelyn, letting her know with a look that my daughter is fine and doesn’t need her to do anything.

“Just girl stuff.” Her lips pull into a smirk as she opens the door.

I don’t like anyone undermining my authority with my child, so I set my beer aside and follow her into the house where Morgan is helping my mom make deviled eggs for the party. She’s also doing all the laundry and dishes from now until she fesses up, but I doubt she’ll disclose that.

“Hey, Morgan, can I talk with you alone for a few seconds?”

Morgan looks up from the table and the partially peeled egg in her hand and gives my mom a look as I hang back just inside the door.

My mom smiles and nods. “I’ll head over and help your mom as soon as I’m done here.”