Page 80 of This Kind of Forever
The pink in her cheeks only deepens when there’s a knock at the front door, followed by voices and three pairs of footsteps. As we’re setting our plates in the dishwasher, Abbie and my parents come into the room.
“Good morning, Daddy!”
My daughter makes a beeline for me. This part never gets old. I know one day, her greetings will get less enthusiastic, so I cherish each one I get. I wrap my arms around Abbie, lifting her off her feet as I hug her. “Hi, Princess. I missed you.”
“Good morning,” Dad says to Hallie.
“Morning,” she squeaks, then takes a long sip of her orange juice.
I cough to hide my laugh. For someone who doesn’t want my family to know we’re together, she isn’t very good at acting inconspicuous.
“How was your night?” Dad asks. “Get up to anything exciting?”
Hallie chokes on her juice. Mom pats her back, then looks between the two of us suspiciously. She assesses Hallie. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”
“Oh, me?” Hallie waves her off. “I’m fine! And last night was good. Great. Really great.”
When she meets my gaze, I wink. She blushes harder.
Thankfully, Abbie steals everyone’s attention away. “Can I paint today?” she asks, pulling out of my arms. “I have my paints from Mommy’s house. Please, please,please. I promise I won’t make a mess.”
I openly laugh at that. There’s no way we’re getting out of this scot free. “You can.”
She turns to Hallie, clasping her hands together. “Will you paint with me again?”
Hallie smiles warmly. “Of course I will.”
“I’m gonna go get my paints! And my brushes!” Abbie tears out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
“Thanks for taking her last night,” I say to my parents. I itch to move closer to Hallie, but I refrain.
Mom shakes her head. “You know it’s no trouble, sweetie. We love spending time with our granddaughter.” Her eyes ping-pong between me and Hallie again. “We’ll babysit anytime.”
When Abbie comes back downstairs with her paint supplies and starts setting them up at the kitchen table, my parents see themselves out.
Before Hallie goes to help, I grab her hand. “Hey,” I say.
She smiles. “Hi.”
My eyes flick to my daughter, but she’s engrossed with her art, so they settle back on Hallie. “I just want to tell you that I really like you, Foster.”
She squeezes my palm. “I really like you, too.”
TWENTY-NINE
HALLIE
I thought livingwith Gabe was temptation before, but now that we’re sleeping together, it’s a million times worse. Even more so because we have to hide our affection from Abbie, which has led to secret touches and me sneaking down the hall to Gabe’s bedroom once we’re sure she’s asleep for the night.
It feels scandalous and dangerous, and fun. But I also know that not being open about our relationship with his family eats at Gabe every time we run into his parents or one of his siblings.
Just a little longer, I keep promising him. But time keeps stretching, and the longer we wait, the bigger the omission feels. I know this, but I still can’t make myself agree. It feels safer here, existing in our bubble of two. I’m well aware that it could pop any day, but I cling to the illusion that it will protect me.
As I finish adding the chocolate-covered strawberries to the plate, a familiar pair of tattooed arms bracket me against the counter on either side.
“What’s all this for?” Gabe asks, looking over my shoulder at the spread of food on the island. Along with the strawberries, I bought some fancy cheese and crackers from Sunnyside.
“Clara and Delilah are coming over,” I reply. Then I freeze. “I’m sorry, I should have asked if that was alright.”
