Page 117 of Bearly Hanging On

“OK.” Harper picked up my phone and handed it to me. “So ring them back.”

“Oh, I thought?—”

“Ring them back.” Her expression softened. “They’ve been wanting us to come around since we were mated. Decide on an afternoon and let’s get this done.”

“Just like that, huh?” I said.

“Exactly like that.”

Easier said and done.

I’d rung my dad back, cutting off the lecture that came as soon as he picked up the phone with an offer to come around.

“We need to talk,” I told him.

“What about?” he said stiffly. “Is it going to be more of that bullshit you spewed in the quarry?”

This was where I apologised to soothe his and my other dads’ ruffled feathers.

“Maybe,” I said instead.

“How about you get to work and stop talking shit? We’re behind on the latest project.”

“And if you want us working on it, we need to meet up first,” I insisted.

A long sigh, then he snapped, “Fine.”

“You can come around here?—”

“Your mother has been on our cases, wanting you to bring Harper around. Apparently, the women at the community centre are concerned about her. They reached out to the friend.”

“Daria?”

Harper looked at me quizzically.

“Yep, her. They got her into some counselling service the women run, but…” It was like pulling teeth, getting the words out of Dad. “Your mother wants to make sure Harper is alright. So bring her and… that sleuth of yours around for dinner. Can you fit tomorrow night into your busy schedule?”

“I’ll make sure everyone’s free,” I replied, refusing to rise to the bait.

“Everyone?” Dad said. “You could?—”

“See you tomorrow night? Will do. Tell Mum to text me anything she wants me to bring.”

Before he could say another thing, I ended the call. Harper crept closer and I hated that reticence. Her throwing her arms around my neck? Yeah, I was down with that. I held her close, just breathing her in for a second.

“We can do this.” Her voice was muffled by my chest. “I mean, if it all goes pear shaped, we can invite Tor’s parents around to defuse the tension.” That just had me gripping her tighter, but when she finally pulled back, it was with a cheeky grin on her face. “You’ve got this, Bear Boy.”

“I’ve got this.”

I didn’t got this.

The next evening we all walked up the front path of my parent’s house. It was the same one I grew up in, had called home, but now everything felt different. The big tree me and my brothers used to climb was kinda oppressive, its dark shadow swallowing us as we got closer. Harper squeezed my hand, looking up at me and that was enough to get me approaching the front door. As I went to knock, the door was yanked open and Jim, one of my dads stood there, looking me up and down.

“What’re you doing, knocking on the door? And why’d you come in through the front, not the back door like normal.” He looked down at the bag I was carrying. “Did you grab the sour cream? Your mother is having a fit.”

“Not having a fit.” Mum smiled when we walked into the kitchen. “Just want to make sure everything’s perfect. How are you, darling?” She came over and gave me a kiss, then made a beeline for Harper. “And you, sweetheart? How’s those bruises?”

“Never should’ve been there in the first place,” Brenton muttered, then turned back to chopping salsa.

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