Page 6 of Playing Dirty
Dad shoots me a warning look, clearly reading between the lines of my quip. “This is already plenty of food; there wasn’t a need for another side.”
“There also wasn’t a need for two types of potatoes, but those seemed to make the cut,” I mutter under my breath.
And considering the only one with the weird sweet potato dish on their plate is Madden…
Carla clears her throat and glances at my father. “I’m sorry, Theo. I’ll make sure to make a note for it next year. Or Christmas, maybe?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get some at Mom’s later,” I say, leaving theChristmas comment alone.
She’s gotta be high if she thinks I’m spending Christmas anywhere near this shit show. Or any other holiday, for that matter.
My dad’s attention lifts from his plate when he says, “I didn’t realize you were having dinner with her tonight as well.”
“Yeah, well…” I spear my fork into the turkey on my plate with a little more force than necessary before aiming a saccharine smile in his direction. “Perks of being a child of divorce, I guess.”
At that, Carla’s gaze drops back to her plate, and I swear, my father’s expression smooths into a marble mask—nothing but cold stone gazing in my direction. I’m fully aware the pettiness and spite I’m currently radiating might not beentirelywarranted, but also, fuck him and his feelings.
He certainly wasn’t thinking about mine when he destroyed our family.
We finish eating in relative silence after my mood-dampening comment, and honestly, it’s probably the only thing I’m grateful for this Thanksgiving. And maybe Carla’s apple pie, though it’s annoying for me to admit it’s better than Mom’s.
Of course, it’s hard to enjoy when mywonderfulstepmother decides to start talking again, instantly killing my appetite with sweet sentiments.
“I just wanted to say how grateful I am for the four of us sharing our first holiday together as a family.” She beams, her gaze shifting around the table. “Transitions like this are hard and come with a lot of bumps in the road, but it means the world to both of us that the two of you are here.”
“Of course, Mom,” Madden says while flashing her a smile.
Oh, gag me.
“And while we have you here, for Christmas—”
“Can we get through this holiday first before we start talking about another?” I ask while stabbing my fork into another bite of pie.
“Well, that’s the thing. This will be our first Christmas as a family too, so Adam and I thought it would be nice to spend part of it at Snowline Resort up in Vermont. Your dad said that’s your favorite, Theo?”
My fork drops to my plate, not sure I heard her correctly. Because there’s no way in hell she just suggested…
But when I look up, sure enough, she’s plastered on this perky smile like she just told me Santa is real. But in reality, they’re trying tobribeme into acceptance, and I can’t stop myself from releasing a bark of laughter because of it.
“You’ve got to be joking.”
“Watch your tone.” My father’s deep voice comes out with a hint of warning.
I shake my head, glancing between the two of them. “You’re both out of your goddamn minds if you think I’m agreeing to that.”
Another glare comes from my father’s side of the table when he utters a gruff, “It’s only a week, not the entire break.”
“I wouldn’t care if it was only a day. That’s time I could be spending with Mom in Branson. You know, like we did every year before you decidedyou couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.”
“Theo—”
“Or I could stay in Chicago with my friends. Or maybe tag along to Florida with a couple of my roommates, since you decided to ruin the trip I took down there last year by dropping the divorce bomb on me,” I continue, on a roll now, and making no signs of stopping. “Honestly, it doesn’t even matter what I could be doing, because it sure as hell would be better than cosplaying as one big happy family when I’m the furthest fucking thing from happy.”
“Theodore LucasGreyson!” my father booms, a deadly fury swirling in his gaze. “You’re not going to speak to me like that, and you’re certainly not going to continue disrespecting Carla either.”
Madden coughs, clearly an attempt to cover his laughter, and I pin him with a glare. It does nothing but make him chuckle harder, though, and it ignites my already short fuse.
Which is why I keep popping off at the mouth.
