Contradictions (Woodfalls Girls 3)

The shower seemed to help a little. I was able to focus on something other than sex when I caught the smell of frying bacon and Mom’s famous apple spice pancakes.

20.

I found both Mom and Dad in the kitchen after I followed my nose to the source of the intoxicating aroma.

“Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” Mom asked, flipping a row of pancakes on the griddle.

I flushed slightly. I couldn’t imagine what she would think if she were privy to my dreams. “I did,” I answered. “It’s always kind of nice to sleep in my old room. Plus, it was peaceful without Derek’s snoring,” I added, opening the cabinet to pull out a coffee mug.

Dad looked up from his Sunday paper. “He’s still staying with you two?”

I nodded, filling my cup to the brim. “He’ll probably be with us until graduation. The new roommates he got stuck with this year are total douchecanoes.”

“Language, Tressa,” Mom chastised me, looking pointedly at Chris, who had just entered the kitchen.

Chris smirked. “Mom, I hear a whole lot worse than that at school. You know I’m in high school, right?” He winked at Dad and me.

“What you hear at school and what we say in this house are two different things,” she said, pointing the spatula at him for emphasis. “Besides, do either of you even know what a douchecanoe is?”

“I don’t think that matters. It just sounds like a good insult,” I teased. “Don’t act innocent, Mom. We’ve all heard you drop your share of f-bombs over the years.”

We all laughed when she looked scandalized at my accusation as she placed a platter stacked high with pancakes and bacon on the table.

“She’s got you there, dear,” Dad said, giving her a peck on the cheek before grabbing the pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice off the counter. He placed it on the table before sliding Mom’s chair out so she could sit down. I smiled watching their interaction. Dad was old-school when it came to treating a woman right. I loved that after twenty-five years of marriage he still held the door open for her and brought her flowers every Friday. She always claimed they were a waste of money, but all of us had witnessed her love for them over the years.

“I do not drop f-bombs,” she defended herself as Dad slid her chair up to the table.

Chris and I both snorted loudly. Mom was a lady in most senses of the word. She took care of her appearance when she was going out. It would be a cold day in hell before she would pass gas in front of anyone. That one we teased her about, telling her that holding it in was not good for her system. She was polite to a fault and was the most loyal friend anyone could ever ask for. All that being said, it was common knowledge that she had a trucker’s mouth when she was frustrated.

“What?” she said innocently as she loaded up her plate.

“Need I remind you of the blender episode last year?” I added helpfully, taking a bite of my crisp bacon.

Chris and Dad both cracked up at the memory. Chris had made the mistake of attempting to make a smoothie, but the doofus forgot to put the lid on the blender before he turned it on. His mixture of strawberries, bananas, and yogurt splattered everywhere. It covered the floor and dripped from cabinet doors. He even managed to reach the ceiling. Mom cursed like there was no tomorrow as she took in the mess that covered her usually pristine kitchen. We’d all pitched in cleaning up the mess, teas

ing her about her outburst the entire time. She’d claimed I’d gotten my mouth from hanging out with Fran, but this was a prime example that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“That was a special circumstance,” she defended herself, patting the corner of her mouth with her napkin before cracking a smile.

The conversation after that switched to my grandma, who was in the hospital with pneumonia. She and Grandpa had retired to Florida a couple years ago. Her prognosis was good, but it didn’t take the worry from Mom’s eyes as she talked. She knew the mild temperatures in Florida were better for both of them, but she missed having them close by. We all did.

“Maybe you and Dad should go see them over the holidays. You guys haven’t been down there since they moved. Grandma probably won’t be able to make the trip up here this year,” I pointed out. “I’ll be on break, so I can come home to babysit the squirt here.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Chris replied, looking insulted.

“Don’t get your Underoos in a bunch. There’s no way Mom and Dad would have let me stay home by myself when I was your age,” I said, ducking when he threw a piece of bacon at me.

“We can’t leave you guys during Christmas,” Mom scoffed, like it was a ridiculous statement.

“I’m talking about you guys leaving the day after Christmas. Chris doesn’t go back to school until early January, and I don’t have to be back at MSC until like a week after that. You guys can fly down on the twenty-sixth and spend a couple weeks in sunny Florida while we freeze our asses off here.”

Mom chastised me for swearing, but looked intrigued at my suggestion. Dad piped in, pointing out that they hadn’t taken a vacation alone together in years. He told her they could even drive down to the Keys for a few days. With endorsements from all three of us, Mom eventually ran out of objections.

My parents were still discussing the trip when Trent arrived to take me back to school an hour later. Dad carried my bag out to Trent’s car while I gave Mom and Chris a hug good-bye. I promised I’d see them later in the month for Thanksgiving. Chris tried to give me a wet willy before I left, but he was an amateur. I deflected it easily and gave him one of my own. I laughed as he grimaced, and told him to stay out of trouble while I was gone.

The three of them stood on the front porch as we drove away, waving until the car was out of sight. I felt the usual pinch of sadness I always got when I left home. It was so easy to fall into the family routine when we were together. I even missed Baxter, the devil cat, every time I left.

Once we made it past the town limits, my attention shifted to Trent. I felt like a sap as I gazed at him happily. I studied his features as he drove, wondering how I’d missed how handsome he really was. All the things that used to bug me about him now turned me on. I adored the way his glasses slid down his nose, and could clearly picture plucking them off his face as he positioned himself over me. I shifted in my seat slightly, getting hot and bothered just at the thought.