Page 64 of Dying to Meet You
Sohumiliating.
Her mother stops to make fake-friendly chitchat with a gray-haired man behind the bar as she pays the tab with her smartwatch. But her shoulders are up around her ears, and Natalie knows the yelling is going to begin the second they’re out of here.
The song ends, and Natalie looks over her shoulder to see her father hastily shed his instrument and hop off the stage, gaze fixed on Natalie and her mom.
“We’ll take a short break,” the lead singer says. “Back in ten!”
Her mother glances at the stage, and her jaw hardens. “Time to go.” She grabs Natalie by the elbow and turns for the door.
“Wait!” her father says. “Rowan. Now hold on.”
“I will nothold on,” her mother snarls. “We’re leaving.”
“Hey!I thought this was okay with you,” he says.
“Nothing about this is okay,” her mother snaps.
Natalie wants to die. “Mom. I told him you said it was okay.”
“Really? Because you want to spend theentiresummer grounded? Go outside. I will deal withyouin a minute.”
Having no other choice, Natalie goes.
“God, I’m sorry,” Tessa says out on the sidewalk. “She issuperpissed.”
Natalie says nothing. She’s never seen her mother so angry.
“You could say you didn’t know he was here,” her friend whispers.
“It wouldn’t work,” she mumbles. Her parents met here. This place is part of their origin story.
Natalie didn’twantto lie. Her mother forced her hand by ignoring him.
This seriously isn’t her fault.
“Rowan, wait!” comes her father’s angry voice from inside. “If you’d only answer my messages...”
“It was two emails!” her mother shouts back. “I don’t owe you a damn thing. Stay away from us.”
Natalie’s heart is in free fall as her mother appears on the sidewalk. “Where’s the car?” she asks tightly.
Natalie points toward the lot across the street. With Lickie’s leash in her hand, her mother hurries in that direction.
Natalie lingers on the sidewalk, just in case her father follows her outside to say goodbye.
He doesn’t.
Shaking with anger, she finally follows her mother to the car. “You could have just answered his emails.”
Her mother halts midstep and turns. “That’s rich coming from a liar,” she growls. “Give me the keys.”
Her mother has never called her a liar before. It stings. And in front of a friend? Close to tears, she opens her bag and fumbles for the keys. “We have to take Tessa home.”
“Just get in the damn car. Both of you.”
“Um, I could just Uber,” Tessa says.
“Both of you, in the car.”
