Page 52 of Almost Paradise

While Ray checks on the baked ziti he has in the oven, he asks, “Have you ever considered that he might be telling the truth?” He removes the dish, closes the oven, and puts it on the table.

“No,” is all I say, but I’m not surprised by his question. Ray always wants to see the best in others.

“It’s not out of the realm of possibilities that his daddy did this. It makes sense if you think about it. You never talked to Drake directly. Only in text or email. Then later, through his father and lawyers.”

“Well, it’s certainly easy to blame the dead guy, right? Look, Donald Paradise was no saint. I hope he’s roasting over a spit in hell right now, but he knew details that only Drake could have told him.”

Ray yells at the boys to go wash their hands for dinner. While he pours water for everyone, he says, “Ni, the dude was a gazillionaire. If he wanted information, he could figure out a way to get it. All I’m saying is—”

“Well, his dead daddy didn’t make him blackmail me into marriage, did he? Did Daddy Paradise tell him to threaten to get our dad fired? He also threatened to get me fired, by the way. He told me that he was never serious about me, and that he was only experimenting. Now that he has an attack of conscience, he comes back and ruins my life. He can go to hell just like his father as far as I care.” I open my mouth to say more, but the boys come running into the kitchen, so I shut up.

Ray raises both hands in surrender, but I know from the determined gleam in his eyes, he’s not done. “All I’m saying is,” he whispers, “I’m lied to every single day. Comes with the territory when you’re a teacher. I know when someone is being dishonest. I don’t get that vibe from him.” Then he puts a finger to his lips and points at Carter, who is waiting patiently for his food.

Ray serves the boys, but the doorbell rings before I can take my seat. Expecting Audrey, I open the door without asking who it is, only to lose my breath at the sight of Drake. He’s dressed just like he was this morning. I wouldn’t look at his face then, but he looks exhausted. He looks like he got about as much sleep as I did last night.

He walks in without being invited.

“Daddy,” I hear Carter say. I hear his little footsteps as he runs right into Drake’s arms and sticks his head in the crook of his neck.

“I missed you,” Drake says, hugging him tighter.

“Let’s eat,” Carter says. He kicks his legs, and Drake puts him down. He takes his father’s hand and drags him to the kitchen. By the time I get there, Drake’s already taken off his coat and is seated at the table.

“Hi, Uncle Drake,” Mason says. Kyle offers him a high five.

“Hello, boys. This looks and smells great.” He reaches for the salad and puts some in a bowl. Then he puts a big helping of pasta on his plate.

“Carter said we can come over on Friday and spend the night. He said we can have pizza and popcorn,” Kyle says. I look at Ray and he rolls his eyes. “And cake,” he throws in. I don’t remember Carter offering cake, but I guess Kyle is going all in.

Carter looks at Drake, and I know he’s holding his breath while he waits for his answer. He’s made a lot of promises to his cousins, and all without permission. Now, I bet he’s worried his father will contradict him. For my son’s sake, I hope that doesn’t happen.

“You boys can come over whenever you want. Pizza sounds great. Your auntie will get your favorite kind.” This time, it’s me who rolls my eyes. Since when does Drake want to be around children? He’s never liked them before, and he’s not one to eat pizza either. He’s always been a stickler about his diet and exercise regimen.

Carter giggles and smugly looks around the table. “I told you he was nice,” he tells his cousins. “He got me a million Pidermans.”

I let out a snort. “Yeah,” I say. “Nice.” I take the seat next to my son, and thankfully away from Drake, and eat my dinner. The boys ask Drake all kinds of questions, so I’m glad all the attention is on him and not on me.

“Can Uncle Wyatt come over on Friday,” Kyle asks Drake.

“I’ll invite him. He has no life, so I’m sure he’ll come.” The boys all high-five each other, pleased with their plans.

“Call him,” Kyle insists.

“Boy, eat your food,” Ray says.

“I’ll call him after dinner,” Drake tells him.

The boys and Drake talk nonstop. I tune them out and eat my pasta since this is the first full meal I’ve eaten all day. Once the boys eat, Drake calls Wyatt on FaceTime. They take his phone and run out of the kitchen with it.

“When will you be ready to go?” Drake asks me once the kids are out of sight.

Ray raises his eyebrows, but he doesn’t say a word. He stands and starts to clear the table.

“Didn’t you get my text?”

“That ridiculous text about you staying here? Not happening. We’re a family and we live together.”

“You can go to hell,” I whisper.

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