Pieces of Me

Chapter 6

Spencer

Damn, he's beautiful.

I should have been paying attention to Mary Jane, who had squeezed onto the love seat with me. Or to my grandmother – Gran, I corrected myself – who was sitting on a nearby glider. Instead, I was watching Riley and Annaliese where they sat at the dining room table just a few feet away, playing a round of Go Fish that looked way more fun than I remembered the game being. They were loud and dramatic about it, and laughed boisterously any time anything at all happened in the game.

Got any fives?

Go fish!

Cue cackling.

When Riley laughed, he did it with his whole body. His head would throw back, his shoulders would shake, his hand would press against his stomach like he just couldn't take it anymore. His hair flopped onto his forehead when he straightened himself, and his eyes retained the glint of amusement long after the laughter stopped.

Mary Jane – Auntie, I reminded myself – patted my arm. When I looked over at her, there was a knowing look in her eyes. Thankfully, she appeared to have some tact, since she didn't comment.

Gran hadn't said much. So far, she let Mary Jane lead the conversation and spent most of her time studying me. Her eyes, though slightly milky with age, were shrewd.

Through all of this, Kiara and Randall were bustling around the kitchen. Though Mary Jane had insisted on hosting this dinner in her little ranch, she seemed perfectly happy to let the two of them handle the food.

During a brief lull in our conversation about favorite cuisines, Gran leaned forward and offered me a smile that didn't do much to soften her stern expression. "I'm glad you reached out to us. It's a real shame we're only just meeting you."

A clanging noise came from the kitchen, like something metal was dropped. The distraction gave me the time I needed to wrap my head around what she'd said.

The only question was how to respond.

It was an easy decision to make. I wasn't here to make Randall look good. In fact, judging from her phrasing, he might have told her a pretty version of what happened to avoid looking bad. Or perhaps, to avoid a scolding. "I wish I could have met you sooner," I said.

"Well, I understand your mother doesn't live very near to here," Mary Jane said with an anxious smile, like she was trying to smooth over an awkward topic.

However, it was exactly the opening I needed to respond innocently while simultaneously throwing Randall under the metaphorical bus. "No, but she would have made it work. It's nice to finally be invited."

I watched the impact of my words. Gran seemed to understand first. Her eyes snapped toward the kitchen and she called out, "Randall!"

There was another clanging noise, and I smirked at the idea of him listening in on our conversation in horror, praying I wouldn't say anything that would reveal him for what he was.

The smirk died on my lips when I realized what a monster I was being. When had I ever been so vindictive before?

Randall came hurrying into the room, wiping his dripping hands on his pants and looking like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Yes?"

"Did you know where this boy was when he was a child?" Gran asked, getting right to the point.

Randall looked at me, then back at her. His lips pressed together and his eyes were full of indecision. I thought I could almost hear him mentally debating lying right in front of me. Finally, he simply said, "Yes."