Page 88 of He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

When Dax pulls up to his mom’s house, we’re surprised to see the street lined with cars. Music wafts from the backyard to the street.

‘That’s the sound of our childhood,’ Dax says, getting out and shimmying his way to me in front of his car.

‘You’re nuts.’

‘It’s all your parents’ fault.’

‘I know,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘It’s kind of scary.’

We follow the path alongside my parents’ driveway to the backyard, stopping in our tracks at the sea of people mingling.

‘I thought this was a small backyard barbecue watch party?’ Dax asks.

‘Thisisa small Matthews’ barbecue.’

‘My favorite kind.’ He waggles his eyebrows, now doing the running man backward in front of me.

‘There’s that weirdo neighbor kid again.’

‘You know, he still likes you, even with the stick up your ass.’

‘Hey!’ He’s obviously kidding but I know how much he likes getting reactions from me.

Nothing else has happened between Dax and me. Well, notnothing, but notthateither. There have been a few rules broken. We sit way too close on the couch while we watch TV. He holds my hand in the car. We’ve been on a few harmless dates. Dinner. A movie. One night when things almost got away from us, he nearly floored me by running his thumb over my lips, kissing my forehead sweetly and walking away. It was romantic as hell. The way he looks at me makes my heart flutter. Tristan never looked at me that way.

‘Dax!’ River’s voice interrupts his teasing.

We glance his way as he waves us towards the house.

‘I thought this was a small barbecue?’

River bursts out in a laugh. ‘You know Mom. She’s got five hundred close friends.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘Want to do an interview for the documentary?’ he asks me. ‘I got everything set up inside.’

‘Sure. But no questions about things they don’t know about.’

‘Drama sells, Hols. I ain’t making that promise.’ He finishes the drink in his hand, holding up a finger. ‘Let me get a refill, and we’ll get started. Join me, Dax.’ The two of them meander through the party towards the bar my parents had built when we were kids where I see Mom’s even hired a bartender for the occasion.

I wander through my parents’ house as I wait for River. His camera faces the wall full of family photos and they draw me in. Pictures of my parents in their glory days. Mom on the stage at the MTV Music Awards. River and me on the stage of a concert when we were tiny. Graduations. Birthdays. Even Dax appears in some of these photos. The memories make me smile.

‘What’re ya doin’?’ River asks, sipping his new drink when I turn his way.

‘I haven’t seen these in forever. Our life was fun, right?’

‘Most of the time,’ he says, standing next to me, looking at the photos that fill the family room wall practically floor to ceiling. ‘You ready?’

‘Yeah.’ I pull myself away from the photos, sitting in the chair he’s directing me to.

‘We’re just having a casual conversation, OK?’ he says, fidgeting with his camera before sitting next to it. ‘What’s your favorite memory of growing up the daughter of Penny Candy?’

Favorite memory? Hmm. I glance around the room, then out the windows overlooking the pool and patio. Mom’s done a lot of crazy things for us over the years.

Once, she made us dress up as Penny Candy for Halloween. We were young, early grade school years. Mom dressed like her friend Staci, who played guitar. Dad was her drummer, Rico. River was her bass guitarist, Sammy. And I was Mom. It was a colossal hit with people who recognized her but I hated dressing up as her. Can’t use that memory then.

I stare into the yard some more, racking my brain for a favorite. Suddenly the song drifting through the screen door triggers something.

‘My thirteenth birthday.’

‘I knew it,’ River says with a laugh.

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