Page 35 of Words I Couldn't Say
Flynn shook his head profusely. “The tree house was off-limits. Dad said that, if Tucker respected our home, we had to respect his, and if I left you guys alone, one day I’d get to take my girlfriend there.” He leaned in close. “The best part? He’ll keep Pacey and Eli away until they’re old enough to take their girlfriends there.”
“Great. Dad’s making the tree house a mack pad.”
My brother’s freckled little nose wrinkled. “No, no way. He said the treehouse is only for couples in love. And, until you’re in love, you don’t get the key.”
“But Tucker and I weren’t in love all those years,” I protested.
“That’s not what Dad says. Plus, I saw the way you looked at him the night you got home.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
He nodded. “It’s how Mom looks at Dad. That’s how I know you love him.”
Leave it to a thirteen-year-old to know more about love than I do. I shouldn’t have been surprised. We were products of our parents, two crazy lovebirds who taught their kids the beauty of a happy marriage.
I placed my hand on his head and ruffled his blond hair. “Dad’s a romantic, and it seems so are you,” I told him then instantaneously changed the subject. “Now, tell me. How many girls have you given the Flynn Ryder Banks line?”
His cheeky grin said everything I needed to know. The spitting image of our father, the namesake of one of thebestDisney heroes, my little brother was going to be a lady-killer.
“Only a couple,” he said. “I can’t really focus on girls right now though.”
“Oh, really? Why not?”
“I’m too busy with baseball. If I’m going to play for the Reds one day, I don’t have time for girls. I need to practice.”
I was about to teach him the best ways of balancing a lifestyle, but when I noticed a cute little brunette eyeing him, I put my arm around his shoulders and brought him in for a squeeze. “You’re right, Flynn. Focus on baseball. Get a scholarship, get drafted, and once you’re thirty, you’ll be old enough to bring a girl to the treehouse.”
He grinned up at me. “That’s what Mom says.”
“And Mother knows best.”
A short while later, Eli and Pacey joined us, obviously having tired of riding the same ride over and over. I talked them into leaving the park so we could go get ice cream and completely spoil our dinner. I texted Mom, letting her know we wouldn’t be home any time soon.
Me:Hey Mom, just leaving the park with the hellions. Pacey asked for Graeter’s and you know I can’t say no to those dimples. We’ll stop for a quick bite first.
Mom:So what you’re saying is your father and I have the house to ourselves for at least the next two hours?
I groaned and showed my phone to Flynn, who pantomimed projectile vomiting. I echoed his sentiment.
Me:Yes. Two hours precisely. I know you’re dying to watch your DVR’d episode ofLaw and Orderor whatever it is you old people watch. Have fun!
Mom:Ava, how’d you know it wasLaw and Ordernight? I really should hide our roleplay schedule. Gotta run. Not sure where I left the key to the cuffs! XX
I knew—or at least I prayed—she was kidding, but I chose not to show this text to Flynn. I didn’t live in their home anymore, but I didn’t want Flynn freaking out of he found cuffs or a fake cop badge.
After stopping for Cincinnati chili and hot dogs, we found ourselves sitting at Graeter’s where Pacey was rapidly devouring his ice cream.
“Oh! Brain freeze!” he exclaimed, sucking his cheeks in and smacking his forehead continuously, thinking that would help for whatever reason.
I reached across the table and stopped him from hitting himself. “Pacey, take your tongue and press it to the roof of your mouth.”
He did as he’d been told then frowned. “It’s not working,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Pressharder,” I insisted.
Pacey giggled, apparently having forgotten all about his brain freeze. “That’s what Mommy says.”
Oh my God! That was it. I had to talk to them about sound-proofing their walls. Poor guy.
