What If (If Only.... #2)(24)

Megan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Uh, yeah? Romance is romance, Griff. And shifter romance? Hot.”

“Shifter?” I ask, trying to piece it all together.

Nat finally joins in with a sigh. “They’re werewolves.”

“With weredicks!” Jen shouts before all three of them burst into laughter.

Stunned for the moment, I check both entrances to the kitchen to make sure Vi’s not hiding out, listening in for more evidence that her mom is, in fact, a potty mouth. Instead I find my mother lingering in the space between the kitchen and great room.

“Hey, Mom.”

Her smile is inviting as I approach and kiss her on the cheek. Like I predicted, she doesn’t care that I’m late.

“Come out to the porch with me,” she says, leading me to the heated three-season room that separates the kitchen from the backyard.

I glance over her shoulder and see my father playing chess with Violet, not sure what surprises me more—an eight-year-old who can kick my father’s ass in chess or the warm, easy smile on his face whenever he’s in Vi’s presence. I was too young to remember if he was ever like this with my sisters.

Mom rocks on the bench glider, patting the space beside her for me to sit. She looks cozy in her leggings and over-sized sweater, her sandy hair streaked with the finest bits of silver that she ties back into a messy bun. But her smile fades before I even sit.

“Sweetheart, you could at least pretend you’re not laughing in his face, make a show of it for a bit?”

My feet planted firmly on the ground, I rock us back and forth but look straight ahead instead of at her.

“You think I’m laughing?”

She’s tried to hint before she thinks it’s all an act, each thing I do to tarnish my image in my father’s eyes. How do I explain going to Europe to find myself only to come back the same as when I left—lost? I want to be the guy I was when I wasn’t here. But that guy can’t exist in real life. In my life.

“If not laughing, then what, Griffin? What are you doing to yourself?” She sets a ballet flat-covered foot on the ground, slowing the motion of the glider as she looks at me while I still stare straight ahead. “You have everything a guy your age could want, plus a secure future. So what is it with the drinking, the fights?”

I stand and cross the small enclosed space, doing what I do best—creating distance.

“First…” I raise my glass in her direction while she keeps hers noticeably cradled in her lap. “Let’s not do the whole hypocrisy thing, okay? I don’t think two little bar mishaps can be construed as fights.” Especially if I welcome the occasional split lip or black eye.

Her regal shoulders sag, and for the first time in years I see a crack in my mother’s armor and wonder if she’s hoping to peek through mine, too. Then my thoughts shift to Maggie, to last night. What did she see when she looked at me? Who did she see? And did I ever get a glimpse of the real her, or was her mask even better than mine? I think of Miles and the words that were so obviously not meant for me to hear. She’ll be okay by tomorrow. She hides herself as well as I do. Problem is, I don’t know who I’d be if I came out from behind the curtain.

Now here’s my mother, inviting me to be candid.

That’s not what she really wants, though. She wants me to be who I’m supposed to be—to be grateful for the gift my family has bestowed upon me. So I throw on my easy smile, the one that says everything’s going to be fine.

Perfect timing, too, because Vi leads Grandpa through the porch door, and even though the room has a table that seats eight, the space shrinks in my father’s presence.

“Good morning, Griffin. Glad you could join us.”

The edge in his voice is only enough to let me know of his disappointment—for being late. For being me instead of him. Who knows? I’ve grown too used to it to bother figuring it out.

“Morning, Dad.”

I give Violet’s hair a good ruffling before attempting to trade places with her and my father and heading back into the kitchen. “Food smells great. I know you, your mom, and your aunts went all out,” I say, looking at my niece. “I’m going to see if Nat needs any help before we eat.”

“Give us a minute, will you?” My father looks at me and my mother, and I know which one of us he’s asking to leave.

My mom kisses me on the cheek and stands up, no words of encouragement. Not even a prayer for my safe return. I may get away with a lot when it comes to her, but at the end of the day, she’s Dad’s better half, supporting his endgame regardless of what it means for mine.

“Come on, Violet. Let us go see if your mom needs our assistance.”

Vi grabs my mother’s hand and skips out the door without another thought.

My father sits at the table, motioning me to join him.

“I’m good right here,” I tell him, and he leans back in his chair, crossing his foot over his knee.

“You left in a hurry last night before we’d finalized your choices. You need to start signing up for interviews, so I know where I might have to call in a favor.”

I laugh. “Call in a favor? Jesus, Dad. Here you want me to help run your business, but you don’t think I can make it through a damn interview. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He stands.