Page 96

My father’s hobbies sinceheretired—because he couldn’t handle Bill being retired and having fun free time without him—include canning pickles, canning jam, making his own salsa, frisbee golf, and regular golf.
Judging by how they’re dressed this morning, they’re heading out for regular golf.
“I did,” Bill says. “I hope I made enough. There are only four of you, right?”
He and my dad both laugh as if that’s the funniest thing they’ve heard in days.
I roll my eyes. Now I know why they’re here.
“Mom and Daphne sent you?” I set the plate on the counter and cross to the coffee maker, grabbing the first cup andnotoffering it to our ‘guests’. But I put another cup on the little platform and add a new pod, then start a new mug brewing.
“Well, they had to go to work,” dad says.
“And we were heading out to golf,” Bill says. “So she figured we should stop by and…” He looks at my dad. “What were the words?”
“What were what words?” Harrison strolls into the kitchen, pulling a T-shirt on, his hair wet.
It must have been him in the shower. Thank God. Our dads are a lot, even with both of us handling them, but Harrison can match their energy a little better than I can. Especially pre-coffee.
“Your mom said, ‘Tell those boys that parading their new girlfriends around at the cafe and all along the boardwalk and even at Raw, but not bringing them over to meet us is unacceptable and wewillbe coming over for dinner’,” my dad recites. “She said she’d really like Harrison to make fajitas.”
I open my mouth to respond, but Bill interjects, “Girlfriends? I thought Harrison had a boyfriend? Isn’t that what Daphne said Mabel said? Or maybe it was Britney?”
My dad turns to him—instead of to the two other people in the room who would actually know the answer to the question—and says, “But Travis said Harrison was playing games and going on rides with a beautiful blonde. And that they got frisky on the Ferris wheel.”
I shoot Harrison a look. He grins at me as he snags a muffin from the plate and takes a big bite, clearly unconcerned about the inaccurate gossip.
Except that it is, actually, accurate.
I sigh.
“But Bruce was at Raw and he said they came in with two other people. I swore one was a man and one was a woman,” Bill says.
“But Mabel said Ford was dating the blonde,” my dad says.
Bill nods. “Yeah, he did.” He finally looks at his son. “Is your boyfriend blonde?”
Harrison shakes his head as he chews, then swallows. “Nope. Dark hair.”
“So who’s the blonde?” Bill asks.
Harrison points his muffin at me. “Ford’s girlfriend.”
“She’s not officially my—” I start.
“Was Travis drunk while he was running the Ferris wheel?” my dad asks, looking alarmed.
Harrison grins. “Nope.”
“But he said you and the blonde rode together, you paid him to get you stuck at the top, and you had your hand under her skirt,” Dad says to Harrison.
Harrison nods. “Ivy. She’s awesome. Very sweet. Fun. Beautiful.”
My dad looks at me. Then takes in my bed head, then the coffee cup I’m holding, then my bare feet. Then he smiles. “Oh.”
I quirk a brow, but Bill asks, “What?” before I can.
“The gossips got it wrong,” Dad says, seeming pleased by that. “There’s just one girl. They’re sharing her.”