Page 22 of Unlikely
“No,” I say, because the people pleaser in me will not kick her out after I specifically invited her in. “Aubrey, this is my daughter Raine and her friend Clem. And there’s plenty of room in this house for the four of us, right?”
Completely oblivious, Raine smiles at Aubrey and nudges Clem, who has been staring at the ground since I walked in. “See? Now, just relax for a little bit before you have to go back home.”
Raine drags Clem to the kitchen, and I’m left staring at the back of her, wanting to drag her back tome. My mind compiling a list of questions, praying that I can live with what we’ve done and every single one of her answers.
“Are you okay?” Aubrey looks at me with narrowed eyes, and I offer her a tight smile, hoping it’s convincing.
“I’m good.” I clap my hands together. “Now. Do you prefer white wine or red?”
* * *
Aubrey and I are sitting cross-legged on the couch, and I’m on my third glass of white wine, willing my eyes to stay focused on the woman in front of me instead of following my daughter’s friend and every step she makes.
“Earth to Zara,” Aubrey says, waving her hand in front of my face. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to assume you have a problem with your daughter’s friend?”
She says the last part of the sentence on a whisper, but my head still whips between her and where Raine and Clem are sitting in the kitchen.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my voice as quiet as possible. “I don’t have a problem with her.”
“Do you not trust her with Raine? Or in your house? What is it?”
Her assumptions make me sick to my stomach, because that isn’t at all what this is, and even if I can’t tell her, I can’t in good conscience let her assume the worst about someone I don’t truly know.
“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “She just has a familiar face, is all.”
“Mom,” Raine calls out. “Can you come and check this, please?”
Before I can get up, Aubrey places her hand on my forearm. “I’m going to leave.”
“I’m sorry,” I say sincerely. “This is not how I thought the rest of our afternoon would go.”
“Oh my goodness, please, you have nothing to apologize for,” she assures me. “Things pop up, and we’ll see each other soon.”
Her certainty eases away my guilt as she follows me into the kitchen before I walk her out.
“What am I checking?” I ask as a way to announce our presence.
“Oh, it’s okay.” Raine waves me off. “Clem was happy to taste test the pasta sauce.”
“Clem saves the day,” I say with a smile that she doesn’t return.
Tough crowd.
“It’s kind of ridiculous you won’t taste the food you’re cooking,” I add.
“Because I always burn my tongue,” she whines. “And there’s truly nothing worse.”
A huff slips from Clem’s mouth and it surprises me. Her eyes are now intentionally on me. “I can think of a few things that are probably worse.”
Does she mean our night together? Or is it the shock of finding out she knew my daughter all along? Neither one of us could’ve seen either of those things coming.
“Anyway,” I say, trying to politely steer the conversation. “Aubrey’s leaving and wanted to say bye.”
“It was so great to meet you both.” Aubrey smiles, then shifts her gaze to Raine. “And hopefully I’ll get to see you again too.”
“It was great to meet you too,” Raine says, returning the sentiment. “I’m sorry if we ruined your date by being home. Mom usually tells me if she’s bringing someone back here.”
“Raine,” I scold. “I do no such thing.”