Misunderstandings (Woodfalls Girls 2)

I laughed at his words. “Don’t you have to work?”

“I’m currently between jobs. I just finished the warehouse venue from last night and have a private job starting next Wednesday. Which means, I’m pretty much free as a bird for the next few days.”

“Is it wise for us to do this?” I asked, trying to be the voice of reason.

“We’re consenting adults with no relationship attachments dictating what we can and can’t do.”

“I mean, should we be doing this with our history? Shouldn’t this be wrong?”

“Does it feel wrong?”

“No-o-o, but I know it should,” I answered honestly.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked, tightening his arms around me.

I nodded, though I was afraid of what his question might be.

“Have you thought of me at all in the last two years?”

“Of course,” I answered, unsure where he was going with this. >“He came over last night to talk. I always wondered what drove you two apart. I never realized,” she trailed off. “Had I known, I would have helped.”

“I didn’t know he never told you. I assumed all of you would hate me like he had.”

“Oh, honey, I would have never judged you,” she said sympathetically. “I’m sorry my son let his pride get the better of him. I could skin him for outing you in front of everyone.”

“He told you about that too?” I asked, shocked that he had been so honest.

“He’s not proud of his actions, but believe me when I tell you, he’s suffered also. The whole situation changed him from the young man he used to be. I know that’s little consolation for the pain you went through, but I wanted you to know he suffered too.”

“I know he did,” I said, fighting the wave of sadness that engulfed me.

“He’s learned from his mistakes, and I think he’s a better man for it,” she said as the subject of our conversation approached.

“Hey, Mom.” Justin greeted her with a hug. “Paul’s over by the bar and wants to know if you want a fruity drink or a glass of wine.”

“Oh, decisions, decisions,” she laughed, shooting me a warm smile. “I hope to see you again before you have to head back home.”

“I’d like that.”

“You two look like you were having a heart-to-heart,” he said, handing me another drink.

“You didn’t have to tell her. I would have kept my mouth shut,” I told him, sipping my drink as we settled at one of the high tables.

He chuckled darkly. “I know, but it was long past time she knew the truth.”

“My mom still doesn’t know,” I fessed up.

“What? The Queen of Knowing Everything never found out?”

I smiled at his description. “She obviously knows something happened, but I let her believe it was just a bad breakup. I know I’m her daughter, but I couldn’t trust her enough not to tell everyone. I didn’t want Woodfalls to be a repeat of what happened here.”

He looked pensive as he digested my words. Instead of commenting, he changed the subject. The conversation flowed easily between us as we caught up on the last two years. We steered clear of any more baby talk, focusing instead on Justin’s rapidly growing clientele and my desire to secure a full-time position. After a while, Travis and Hollie joined us with Paul’s two kids, Brady and Andrea. Brady was as talkative as Hollie and Travis. They all rambled on about everything from meeting me the first time to how Trish had met Paul. Eventually everyone left our table when Travis saw someone he knew from school and Brady got sick of our “boring conversation,” as he put it.

Justin was called onstage to make a speech about the engagement of Rob and Melissa. He charmed the guests with his humorous insights on marriage and where he saw Rob and Melissa in twenty years. His portrayal of them forty years older was sidesplitting and had everyone in tears from laughing. He then cued the DJ and everyone roared with laughter as he started an awful off-key rendition of Katy Perry’s song “Firework.” The crowd cheered and groaned with approval as Rob made a production of having Justin removed from the stage by the two bouncers.

Another friend took Justin’s spot, singing some old boy band song. The crowd cheered him along, making up their own words as they went. Next, a girl we knew from college took a turn, singing a love song that actually sounded halfway decent. I had to give her credit.

“Looks like your karaoke is a big hit,” I told Melissa as she joined our table.