Page 72 of My Return to the Walter Boys
“It’s kind of hard to explain,” I said, rubbing a hand down my face, “but Ireallylike your cousin.” I couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—use the other L word. “I know he feels the same way, so if we gave dating a real go, then I think it would lead to something serious.”
He gave me ano shitlook. “Yeah, that’s kinda the whole point of dating someone…”
“That doesn’t mean we’re going to end up together,” I replied. “We’re both so young, and I just… What if things end badly? I don’t want your family to have to choose sides.”
Isaac threw back his head and laughed. “That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”
My head jerked back. “Why? Most relationships end in—”
“You do realize that things have already ended badly, right?” he said over me. “My aunt and uncle would never kick you to the curb over something as stupid as a breakup, and even if people did start picking sides, I’d bet everything on you winning that contest. Cole’s a cocky jackass. You’re much more likable. This is also the moment where I’d usually say something inappropriate, but I’m gonna bite my tongue.”
I shook my head. “But… I’m not a Walter.”
“Jesus, you’re ridiculous,” Isaac muttered, then reached across the table and, to my utter surprise, took my hand in his. It was the sort of comforting gesture I never would have expected from him. “Jackie, we might not have the same last name, but you should know by now you’re one of us.”
An impossibly large lump formed in my throat. “Thanks, Isaac. I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Hey, if you wanna give up what you have with Cole because you’re afraid something badmighthappen, then do you,” Isaac said, letting go of my hand and giving it a patronizing little pat. “Just know that I think you’re being a massive idiot.”
“Noted,” I said, lowering my gaze to the half-eaten plate of fries in front of me, “but you got your answer, and I don’t want to talk about Cole anymore. It’s my turn.”
He blew out a breath in alet’s get this over withway, then nodded.
My fries had gone cold a while ago, but I popped one into my mouth as I contemplated the perfect question. Isaac probably expected me to inquire about homecoming, but asking why he set off the fire alarm didn’t guarantee an explanation for the rest of his angry, destructive behavior. While I wasn’t a hundred percent certain, I was willing to bet Isaac’s issues stemmed from his father. When he started pushing the rest of his eggs around his plate instead of eating them, I realized I was taking too long.
After washing down another fry with a sip of soda, I asked, “What happened between you and your dad when he came to visit this summer?”
Isaac’s jaw unhinged, and his fork clattered against the table, sending a chunk of scrambled egg flying. “How thehelldo you know about that?” he exclaimed. “You weren’t even here.”
As if he needed to ask. “Family of gossips, remember?”
“I’m not sure I like this opening up to each other bullshit,” he grumbled.
With a little smirk, I yanked Isaac’s pie across the table in case he was thinking of backing out of our exchange. I’d already given him an answer. Now he owed me one. “I’m holding this hostage until you start talking.”
“Keep it,” he said, waving me off. “I’ll just order another.”
“Isaac!”
“My dad’s a selfish piece of shit, okay?” he snapped. “That’s what happened. That’s always what happens with him.” The muscles in his neck were corded, but when I looked into his eyes, the anger I expected to find there was missing. Instead, they were hollow. It was a startling expression to see on his face, and I—
Oh crap.This was Nathan all over again, wasn’t it? All I wanted to do was be helpful and supportive, but somehow I’d made things worse by being pushy.
“I’m sorry,” I said, sliding the piece of pie back over. “We don’t have to talk about this.” It was obvious that I hadn’t simply asked an uncomfortable question or poked a bruise; I’d struck a nerve that went down to Isaac’s core.
“No, fair’s fair,” he said in a clipped tone. “You just surprised me.”
He scraped his fingers through his hair in such a rough mannerthat my own scalp ached, but before I could make a second attempt at letting him off the hook, Isaac dove into his story. Some of it I already knew. His mom left after Lee was born, and they stayed with Katherine and George because their dad had been stationed overseas since they were little. But most of what he shared was new information. Peter Walter’s MSO—military service obligation—was up this year, and he’d promised to request resignation and move home so they could be together as a family. What Isaac thought would be a permanent reunion turned into another too-short visit when his dad announced that he’d been promoted from lieutenant colonel to colonel. That meant he’d be stationed in Germany for the next six years, and while it wasn’t dangerous like some of his previous posts, Isaac’s dad didn’t want to uproot his kids from their lives.
Translation: just because George Walter was an outstanding father didn’t mean that good parenting ran in the family; evidently, his brother wasn’t up to the task.
“Isaac, I don’t know what to say.”Your dad sucksdidn’t quite do the situation justice.
A laugh broke free from his throat, but there was no humor to it. “Did you know I used to play soccer when I was younger?” he asked, paying no notice to my previous statement. Words kept spilling from his mouth, almost like he couldn’t stop talking now that he was finally letting out the poison. “I got into it because it’s my dad’s favorite sport but quit once I realized eventhatwouldn’t get him to come to one of my games. I was good too. Probably could’ve made varsity.”
I scrunched up my face. “I’m trying to picture you with a letter jacket instead of a leather one, and I just don’t see it.”
His lips twisted into a false smile. “You’ll get a kick out of this, then. Freshman year, I was on the AcaDeca team, and we won state. Of course, dear old dad didn’t even congratulate me, but that’s par for the course.”
