Page 49 of Petty's Crime

“Her mom’s lasagne,” Dad replies with a chuckle.

I loved it in the past. As I’ve grown older, my tastes have changed but I’m not going to turn down anything cooked with love. Mom’s cooking always reminds me of when life was so much simpler than it is now. Of times when I yearned to become an adult without realising what all that entails. And certainly before I had something necessitating me to have security to keep me safe.

“Just so happens I love lasagne.” Petty grins at my mom, an expression that’s almost boyish in its enthusiasm. She actually preens as the full force of his attention lands on her and for a second I almost feel jealous.

What the fuck?

Reminding myself that Petty’s legally married whether he wants to be or not, I slide into the back seat. Politely, Petty closes the door and then walks around to the other side to get in. Dad gets into the driving seat and once Mom has settled herself beside him, we’re off.

And hell, we’re taking the long way home. Mom excitedly points out the school I attended, and goes into the story of my prom, how I tripped and the high heels I was unaccustomed to wearing had ripped my gown and her ensuing quick trip with a sewing kit to save the day.

Dad idly comments how he waited with a shotgun at the ready until I was safely home.

Glancing sideways I see Petty’s grin widen. From how his body is shaking, I suspect he’s suppressing his laughter, while I want to shrink and disappear, wondering if mortification can be fatal.

I’m even more surprised when he takes my hand and winks at me. But I suppose this is exactly how he’s supposed to be behaving and I’m just surprised he’s so easily slipped into the adoring boyfriend role.

The rest of the relatively short journey is taken up with updates from my parents as to the local gossip, and me telling them that my shows are doing well. Soon we’re turning into the driveway that takes us to the house where I grew up. I notice Petty looking at it, as if assessing it in some way.

That’s confirmed when he whispers quietly, “Your dad has good security.” He raises his chin approvingly.

His comment brings me back down to earth. I hadn’t thought too much about my trouble following me. Could I have brought problems to my parents’ door?

“You think I’m at risk here?” I whisper back, now worried on their behalf.

His face tightens and he purses his lips. “I don’t think so, but we can’t let down our guard.”

“What are you two love birds discussing?”

Looking up, I see Dad glancing in his mirror.

“Leave them alone, Rufus,” Mom chides him. “Come on, let’s get them settled in and then we can have a good catch-up.” I don’t miss the knowing look she gives him and can easily translate such catch-up turning into an interrogation, knowing Mom will want to find out everything there is to know about my new supposed man right down to his shoe size.

Inwardly I grin, wondering how Petty is going to cope with the interrogation to come. I’ve often wondered why the CIA never recruited her.

But a few hours later I decide that Petty must have had a personality transplant during the flight. Maybe I’d dozed and aliens had invaded our plane and replaced him. Something must have happened. He’s a completely different man to the one that I’ve known for the last few weeks.

Instead of taciturn, he’s friendly. Instead of being dour, he’s been laughing and joking with my dad, and courteous around me and my mom. As if he’s the perfect boyfriend, there’s been little affectionate touches, and chaste kisses—of the type acceptable in front of parents—delivered to my cheek. If I had doubts how he’d be able to pretend a devotion to me, I have none now. I’d be feeling more guilty had he not explained his true relationship with his wife, though my conscience isn’t eased entirely, thinking her view of their marriage must be different. She did return to him.

It puts me in a bit of a quandary. If she loves him, is what I’m doing encouraging him to be unfaithful? Although he’s crossing no line, I doubt she’d be comfortable with how he’s acting.

But she hit him.

And, from what I’ve surmised, has hit him in the past. While Petty’s listening to my father regaling him with some story or other, I wonder about him. Why didn’t he leave when she first showed her true colours? I’d left Saul after only one time.

But maybe fate had stepped in and parted them anyway. I can’t imagine Petty putting up with behaviour like abuse.

As the day draws on, Petty stays firmly in character. While I’m helping Mom finish dinner, he assists my dad secure some guttering which had come loose, all without complaint and taking pains to take most of the more arduous burdens from the man who I’m pained to say is showing his age now.

Mom’s one hundred percent team Petty, going so far as to tell me he was a keeper for life. I think she’s already hearing those wedding bells. Being completely bemused by the change in him, I don’t have it in me to contradict her plans. There’s part of me thinking if this was real I wouldn’t object to them.

What the hell has happened to the Petty I know and dislike?

I’ve never seen him so relaxed. The only explanation I can come up with is that he’s either an excellent actor wearing a mask, or has dropped the one he normally puts on. While previously I’d wondered how on earth he’d gotten anyone to marry him, now I’m no longer surprised she wants him back.

He’s attentive to me without being stifling, respectful of both my mom and my dad. When, after dinner, he jokes that he’d like to know more about me, Mom doesn’t hesitate getting the old photo albums out.

I roll my eyes but settle in to be embarrassed. I’m sitting on the couch next to him, and when his arm comes around me pulling me close, it’s all too easy to relax into his side. I don’t even have to pretend I’m enjoying this close contact with him. To my shock, I find myself breathing him in. It wouldn’t be difficult for me to fancy him, probably like most women he comes across. He’s sex on two legs. But like this? Gentle, turning what could be interpreted as laughing glances toward me, pretending an interest in my life, and getting on so well with my parents? Well, I have to force myself to remember he is married, as otherwise I suspect he'd be on his way to capturing my heart.

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