Fake It List

Eighteen

Reysha lifted her hand to knock, then lowered it. Stupid to be anxious about visiting her parents. Stupid or not, a nest of bees woke up in her stomach, making her palms clammy and her breathing hitch. It was her mom's birthday, and celebrations in the Beckett household were wild cards. Your parents are wild cards. How she'd ended up not being more like them, no one knew. One thing she was sure of, though, when her parents threw a party, anything could happen.

It's not a party. It's dinner with your parents, who love you, you chicken. The last couple of weeks had given them an arsenal of over-the-table conversation topics that Reysha wanted to avoid. Tomorrow night was date four out of six. She was halfway. Her mom texted more than ever, asking about the "future son-in-law candidates." No pressure.

Forgoing the knock, she turned the handle and let herself into her childhood home. A faint chime sounded when she opened and shut the door. A mixture of comfort and chaos swirled in her chest. The scent of chili and fresh bread hit her hard, making her stomach growl. Music pumped through the house. Her dad was a nut for wireless anything, and Reysha was pretty sure most of the rooms in their home were smarter than she was. She couldn't even figure out the lights.

"There she is," her dad greeted, coming out from the kitchen. He held his arms open, his smile genuine and wide.

Reysha walked into the hug and smiled against his chest, being careful not to squish the gift bag between them. He smelled like spices and home. Running a hand up and down her back, he pressed a kiss to her head.

He leaned back, looked at her with thick, furrowed brows. He either hadn't gone grey yet or was too vain to let it happen. She suspected the latter since his dark hair only got darker each time, she saw him.

"You're too skinny," he said, frowning.

"Don't start, Dad. I plan to eat my weight in chili and bread, so it's not from lack of trying."

He chuckled and shifted so his arm was around her shoulder and guided her toward the deliciousness coming from the next room. "We're enjoying the sunshine in the backyard. Your mother and I invited a few extra guests," he said.

Reysha stopped in her tracks at the entryway to the kitchen where she'd eaten breakfast every morning until her teen years when she'd decided it wasn't the most important meal of the day. "Define extra," she said, the hair on her arms bristling.

"Come on, Rey-Rey. You know more is merrier," her dad said.

So not her motto. As if he'd cued them, a group of people shuffled through the open double doors of the kitchen that led onto a patio. Oh God, that's a lot of extras. Through the glass doors, she saw the yard was full of guests. Reysha recognized a few of the ones greeting her in the kitchen, and her dad introduced her to the others.

Focused on breathing, their names slipped through her brain the moment the next person said theirs. Nod and smile. Why did they do this to her? She kept a vicelike grip on her mom's present, wondering why she'd agreed to come. A small family dinner. They promised. When did they ever do exactly what they said they would?

"There's my beautiful girl," her mom said, coming into the house, an empty margarita glass in her hand. On her way to hug Reysha, she sent a quick glance to her husband, passed him her glass. "Did you tell her?"

"I was about to," he said, smiling down at Reysha.

Her chest and stomach seized at the same time like the cogs of a wheel that got locked together. Her mom wrapped her arms around her and held on tight.