Page 53 of Keeping it Casual
The next morning I’m glad for Steph’s presence. Lachie doesn’t emerge until mid-morning. And when he does, his leg is hurting and he’s grumpy, sitting at the kitchen table with his leg propped up. My mood matches his because I can’t find any mode other than disappointed parent.
I serve him breakfast, then hover over him, my arms crossed.
“Why did you do it? Surely you have more common sense than that.”
He shrugs as he takes a gulp of his orange juice. “It seemed like fun. And Sheldon has done lots of stunts like that before with no issues. All the other guys were keen.”
“Lachie, there are going to be so many times in your life when going along with people is going to seem like the easy option, but you need to learn how to say no.”
Steph goes over to him and gives him a quick hug. “I grew that beautiful body of yours, so don’t you go breaking it. Okay, kid?”
“And we need to talk about the drinking,” I say.
Lachie’s face darkens with a scowl. “It’s not a big deal. It was only a few beers.”
“It is a big deal. Because you are underage and drinking leads to irresponsible behavior. As you so clearly demonstrated last night. And if you think you’re not grounded because of that choice, you’ve got another think coming.”
Before Lachie can reply, my phone vibrates on the counter.
I look at the caller ID, and my stomach plummets.
“Who is it?” Steph asks.
“Jeremy,” I say.
“You should answer it and talk to your boyfriend,” Lachie says.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
Both Steph and Lachie’s eyebrows fly up at my tone.
But I spent so much of last night tossing and turning in bed, beating myself up. I’ve done exactly what I swore I wouldn’t do. I became so wrapped up with Jeremy that I dropped the ball with Lachie.
I was lucky last night that Lachie hadn’t been more seriously hurt. It could have been so much worse.
Then I would never be able to forgive myself.
“I’m not talking to Jeremy now. I’m talking to you,” I say to Lachie.
Lachie sighs and folds his arms on the table, leaning forward to rest his head on his arms as I continue my lecture.
After another hour of conversation where Lachie alternatively gives long-suffering sighs and rolls his eyes, I finally let him escape back upstairs to his bedroom.
“Well, that went well,” I say to Stephanie.
I head to the kitchen and flick the switch on the kettle. After that, I definitely deserve a cup of tea.
The kettle is just boiling when there’s a knock at the door.
“Do you want me to get it?” Steph asks.
“No, I will.”
I walk down the hallway to answer it.
Jeremy’s on my doorstep.
I feel my mouth automatically quirk up because I can never not smile at Jeremy.
