Page 26 of Undeniably Perfect

We walk in silence with our ice cream as more people say hi to Kent. Fucking Mayberry.

Chapter Thirteen

The house is so Hollywood suburbia that for a moment, I look around and wonder if I’m on candid camera. It looks like every sitcom neighborhood. My grandparents lived in a tiny Cape Cod house in a neighborhood that had once been ideal but now wasn’t a place to walk around at night. This house though is perfect. It’s a white colonial with dark gray shutters and a burgundy front door. The yard is manicured with neatly trimmed shrubs and flowers lining a walkway to the front door. The houses in the neighborhood all look different but they are also all perfectly painted with grass that looks like it’s not even real because I don’t see one single weed. Seriously, it’s like dandelions have been banned by the homeowner’s association. The streets are tree-lined, and I swear I’m on a movie set.

I want to run away because this Leave It to Beaver vibe is more than freaking me out, but Kent takes my hand and leads me up the path to the side of the house. That’s when I realize just how colossal it is. There’s a wing that goes back with a second entrance and the garage and rooms above it. Kent opens the side door, and I step into a small entryway with several doors and stairs down to what I presume is a garage and stairs up to another room. I start to follow him into a large eating area when out of nowhere a Great Dane and mastiff run across the room. I freeze. It’s not the dogs or even their enormous size that has me wondering if I’ve entered the Twilight Zone. No, it would be the small children riding the dogs. Two little girls cling to the dogs’ backs as they happily run after each other barking. I look up at Kent, and he laughs.

“Girls, you shouldn’t do that. Lacy and Frito aren’t horses,” he scolds.

The girls who can’t be over five years old and who are most definitely twins climb down from the dogs.

“They don’t mind,” says the one with her hands on her hips.

“You’re a party pooper, Kent,” says the other and sticks out her tongue before dashing off. I hear them thunder down some more steps and assume there must be a basement staircase somewhere nearby.

I glance toward the kitchen and see Kathy and a young woman busy making food. There are people out on the deck. There are more people in the family room. In the yard, I can see several more people playing volleyball.

“Hey!” a man about our age says as he walks into the room and pulls Kent into one of those back-thumping man hugs.

“Hey, Mark. I swear the girls have grown over the past few weeks,” he says with a grin as one of them runs by and Kent scoops her up.

She squeals and giggles. “Put me down!”

“Oh, no, not until you do Superwoman,” he says.

She laughs and puts her hands out in front of her as Kent spins her around.

“Me, me, me!” her sister yelps as she grabs on to Kent’s leg.

“OK, your turn, Magpie.”

He places her sister down. “I’m not done,” she pouts.

“Lizzie-bee, you already had a turn,” her father says with a chuckle as a woman who I assume is his wife comes to wrap an arm around him.

“Hey, Crissy,” Kent says as he puts down the second twin and they take off running again, this time with two giant dogs in tow.

I’m completely out of my element, yet I don’t feel overwhelmed by the chaos surrounding us. It’s like family and love personified.

“Hi, I’m Crissy and this is my husband, Mark. And I think you already met our daughters, Maggie and Lizzy,” the woman says, holding out her hand to me. I shake it.

“This is Tabitha,” Kent interjects before I have a moment to speak.

“Hi,” I add shyly. I’m not totally sure why I’m feeling shy.

“Nice to—”

“Little bro!” a beautiful woman says as she runs up and wraps her arms around Kent. He lifts her up and they shake side to side before he plants a kiss on her cheek.

“Di, this is Tabitha.”

The woman draws her attention away from her brother and looks at me. She doesn’t even hesitate before pulling me into a big hug. “So nice to meet you, Kent has told us all about you. I’m so sorry about your studio.”

“Uh, thanks.” I don’t even know what to say.

“Come on, I’ll show you around,” she says, pulling me by my hand. I look up at Kent who just shrugs.

“This is Lanie. And you met Mom already, right?” she says cheerfully as she leads me into the kitchen.

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