She's Up to No Good(15)
“Vivie told my mother . . . about us—it wasn’t her fault. Mama is . . .” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done now.”
Tony stiffened. “What’s done now?”
Evelyn smiled compassionately, too far gone to even be flippant for once. “Them knowing.”
“Them . . . ,” Tony echoed. “What did your father say?”
Evelyn waved a hand in the air. “He said I can’t see you anymore. But I’m not worried about Papa.” Tony looked unsure, and Evelyn gripped his forearm, noticing the hard swell of muscle beneath her hand. “He’ll come around. He always does. He blusters and he hollers, but he’s all bark. Honestly, he barely even barks with me. He’s never going to do anything that makes me unhappy for long. And it’s not like I’m saying I’m skipping college to marry you or . . . anything . . .” She trailed off, realizing what she had just said.
Tony tried, and failed, to suppress a smile.
“You jerk.” She smacked his arm lightly. “It’s not funny.”
“No. You’re definitely going to college. Even if we get married.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Papa will love you. You wait and see. It may take some time, but he will.”
“I don’t like the idea of sneaking around.” His voice turned serious. “Promise me you’ll talk to him.”
“I promise.” She hesitated, realizing she couldn’t play her usual games with Tony. “I don’t promise it’ll be soon. He needs to cool down first.”
He nodded, then glanced back at his own father, who had moved on to the next boat with Felipe. “I have to get back.”
Evelyn grinned up at him. “Kiss me first.”
“At the docks? With them”—he gestured over his shoulder—“watching?”
“Especially with them watching!”
“You’ll get a reputation.”
“None of them know me. You’re the one who will get a reputation.”
“You’re going to get me in trouble, aren’t you?”
She leaned in close, her lips pursed slightly. “Isn’t it worth it?”
He sighed, closing the gap between them. “Absolutely.” He kissed her lightly. “Now go home. I need this job if I’m going to keep taking you out.”
She nodded and turned to leave.
“Wait.” He plucked something from her long dark hair and held up a white blossom. “What’s this?”
Her lips spread into a coquettish grin. “Oh, that? I climbed down the pear tree next to my window to get here. I’m about to go climb back up it.”
He stared at her, his mouth open. “You . . . climbed down a tree? In a skirt? And are about to climb back up?”
“I told you, I wanted to see you. Unless they cut that tree down, they’re not stopping me.” She turned again, shooting him a last look over her shoulder. “And if they do? I’ll get a ladder.”
She heard him laughing as she walked away.
CHAPTER TEN
At the Woodrow Wilson Service Plaza, I checked my phone while waiting for my grandmother to finish in the bathroom. I had felt the texts come in while driving, but I couldn’t read them until we stopped.
Are you ready to kill her yet? my father asked.
Is she behaving? from my mother.
Are you really on a road trip with Grandma? Did you learn nothing from my adventures in Mexico? from my cousin Lily.
And one from Brad. I looked at his name suspiciously but didn’t open the message.
We had only communicated through text and email since I moved out. Except for that one phone call, when he asked me to sign the property settlement agreement and attest that our separation had been mutual so he could file for divorce quicker. It hadn’t gone well. I asked if he was in such a hurry so he could marry Taylor, and he hesitated too long.
“We’re not even divorced yet,” I had hissed at him, careful not to yell with my parents downstairs. “You can’t be serious!”
“I’m not planning to get married yet. I just—”
“YET!”
“Jenna, it’s serious. I don’t want to wait a full year when we both know it’s over. And I don’t see why you do either. I want you to be happy too.”
The condescension pushed me over the edge. Was I being vindictive? Yes. I didn’t want him to be happy. I wanted him to be miserable for doing this to me. I wanted him living in his childhood bedroom and single and . . . well . . . something worse than what I was doing, even if I didn’t know what that was. And I wanted to move on and be happy. But the too of that last sentence was when I vowed to make him wait the whole year even if Zac Efron proposed to me that very night. Brad was the reason I had to tell everyone my marriage fell apart. He was the reason I hated my name every time my students called me Mrs. Shapiro. And while, yes, I could go back to being Miss Greenberg sooner if I granted the divorce, I could suffer longer if it meant he was suffering. Too.
“Why are you looking at that phone like it’s going to bite you?” For an older woman with a bad hip, my grandmother was excellent at sneaking up on people. Not that a New Jersey Turnpike rest stop is quiet, so she could have been stomping like an elephant and I probably wouldn’t have noticed.