A Shattered Moment (Fractured Lives 1)

“Are you ready for an inquisition?”

I stifled a groan. Obviously I hadn’t gotten off scot-free. I smiled reassuringly and reached for her hand as she closed the door behind me. Let the grilling begin.

eighteen

Mac

Inviting Bentley over for dessert had been a mistake. To say Mom and D

ad were thrilled that I’d met someone was putting it mildly. After several refused setup attempts over the summer with sons of different coworkers, Mom had given up. I didn’t and wouldn’t apologize for my attitude. She should have known better than to push me into dating when I wasn’t ready.

Guiding Bentley to the family room, I felt bad for the onslaught of questions my mom was sure to lay on him. If I really cared about Bentley, I would have turned him around and urged him to make a run for it. My only hope was that Dad would interject, add a little humor, and change the subject so everyone was more comfortable. That was what he did. He was the calm in the storm.

• • •

graduation night 2013

“So, what do you think about joining the adult world?” Kat’s dad, Dave, asked as we all sat down at one long table in the restaurant. Jessica stifled a snort. Dave was famous for asking random philosophical questions.

“Daddy, seriously?” Kat said, rolling her eyes. She implored him to stop, looking to her mom for help.

“It’s a fair question,” her mom said, shrugging her shoulders.

Zach, the diplomat in our group, took a stab at answering. “Well, sir, it feels pretty good.”

“In what sense?” Dave asked, cutting a piece of bread from one of the four loaves the waitress had just set down.

Jessica kicked me under the table to get my attention. We exchanged amused looks as Kat groaned. “Shoot me now,” she muttered to Dan under her breath.

I disguised my snicker with a cough as my dad patted Dave on the back. “Come on, Dave. Maybe we should give the kids one more night before we officially call them adults. Let’s put off the roast for another day,” he said in his normal jovial manner.

Dad was always a go-with-the-flow type of guy. “Why worry about today when tomorrow is another day?” was his motto. His easy breezy spirit would have driven many women nuts, but Mom took his attitude in stride. She was the more analytical and practical one in our household. She took charge of the finances, making sure the bills were paid and money for retirement and my education were diligently put aside each month. Dad often joked that he would have to die first because he would be lost without her around. Dad was the dreamer, and she was the planner. She liked to say he was the yin to her yang.

• • •

I laced my fingers with Bentley’s, flashing him a weak smile as I led him to the wolves. Mom was sitting at the bay window that overlooked the backyard. It was my favorite spot in the house, especially in the cooler months when I could open the blinds without being baked by the afternoon sun. Dad sat in his recliner, trying to appear casual. I knew he was full of it because he was reading some magazine, which he never did.

“Mom, Dad, this is my—friend, Bentley,” I said hesitantly. My introduction sounded lame, even to me. It was obvious by the way I was clutching Bentley’s hand that he was more than just a friend. Bentley looked at me like I’d grown two heads.

Dad stood up to shake his hand. “Bentley, it’s good to meet you. Our girl here seems to think quite highly of you.”

“Dad?” I warned.

“Mac?” he returned.

Bentley squeezed my hand reassuringly as he turned to my mom, who had also risen. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” he answered, shaking my mom’s hand. “I think highly of her, too, so we at least have that in common,” he said, winking at me.

“That’s good to know,” Dad said, returning to his recliner while Mom sat back on the edge of the window seat. Bentley followed me to the couch. I sat nervously on the edge of the cushion, waiting for the grilling to begin. Bentley, on the other hand, seemed completely relaxed as he sat back on the couch with his arm stretched across the top cushion. He tugged on my shoulder until I was tucked into the crook of his arm. I noticed Mom and Dad exchange a look at the gesture.

“So, Bentley, what are your plans for the future?” Dad asked in an uncharacteristically stern voice.

“Dad!” I said, shocked at his directness. Nothing like going for the high-dollar questions first.

“Sweet pea, it’s not a difficult question.”

“Maybe not to you. What do you want to know next, when the wedding’s scheduled?” I would have expected a direct question like that from Mom, but Dad had never been the probing type. He’d always been the one to run interference. I thought he would have been my ally in this situation.

Glancing at Mom, I could see by the look on her face that she had also been taken by surprise. She stood smiling and interrupted Dad by announcing it was time for dessert. “John, why don’t you come help me cut the pies?”