"So what, now we're going to live together?" Jamie takes another step towards me. "That's your idea of a good plan?"
Unwilling to back down, I poke a finger at his chest. "This is my family's house. Not yours. I have every right to be here."
"Newsfl...
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The tradition of Saturday night dinners started when Aldo was a freshman in college. Because he’s Aldo, the beloved firstborn and Perfect Son, he let Mom talk him into coming home from NYU once a week for a family meal. These days it's more of a "whoever's around" meal, which usually means me, Enzo, and for some unholy reason, Jamie. But this week Aldo and Christy are in the area, so we have guest stars.
“You’re late,” Aldo says the moment Jamie and I walk into the dining room.
I hold up my wrist and go for the sympathy card. “Sorry, it takes a little longer to get out the door with this.”
“Nice. Now make your eyes a little bigger and let your lip wobble.” Enzo’s tipping back in his chair, taking advantage of the fact that Mom’s not in the room. When I follow his instructions, he frames my face with his fingers. “That’s gold, sis. You gotta try that at the stadium.”
“I don’t think that’ll work as well as it did when she was six,” Aldo says without looking at me. “She doesn’t have missing teeth anymore.”
Jamie falls into his seat next to Enzo. “Give her a week.”
“Alessandra, you need be more careful,” Dad chides me as I sit down next to Christy. “Just think what would have happened if Jamie was not there.”
“Don’t worry Mr. D.” Jamie’s smile is a knife and he’s pointing it at me. “I’m sure she would’ve hung in there.”
I narrow my eyes, but before I can reply, Mom comes in from the kitchen carrying a plate of pot roast. Setting it down in the center of the table, she smacks Enzo upside the head and his chair falls back into place with a thump. “Okay kids, go ahead and serve yourselves. Lissa, vegetarian option’s in that bowl.”
I feel Jamie’s gaze on me while I get my food, and I know he’s expecting a counterattack. But I keep silent as the conversation starts up, just waiting for my moment.
I don’t have to wait long. Two minutes into dinner, Dad asks, “So, Jamie, how are things going on the house?”
“Great.” Jamie says this quickly, like he thinks he has to get it out before I contradict him. Boy, does he have this read wrong.
“Great?” I laugh. “Jamie, don’t be so modest. It’s going fantastic.”
The visible shock on everyone’s faces is priceless. Utensils freeze in mid-air as my family turns to stare at me like I just got back from the funny farm. I’m tempted to whip out my phone and take a picture, but Jamie is watching me with open suspicion, and I have to play the innocent. I beam at them all.
"Well, it's coming along nicely," Jamie says slowly, his eyes never leaving me. "But I won't pretend it doesn't have its challenges."
I wave this away. “You’re selling yourself short. Mom, Dad, you should really come and check out what he’s doing.”
Aha. Jamie’s expression clears. He’s figured out the game.
However, instead of fighting it like I expect, he says, “I can’t take all the credit. Lissa’s done a lot.”
My smile wavers. Just the teeniest bit. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Oh, I would.” I’m probably the only person who hears the threat in his tone.
“So, it’s not in too bad of shape then?” Mom asks, oblivious to the warzone she’s wandered into.
“It’s a beautiful house," Jamie says. "I’m sure once it’s on the market, you’ll be flooded with offers.”
I choke on my drink. Christy helpfully thumps my back.
“You know,” I cut in, maybe a little too quickly, “Jamie was just saying the other day that things are actually going ahead of schedule. You could probably move up the project end date.”
“Really?” Mom gasps. “That would be fantastic.”
Jamie looks at me with murder eyes. “I don’t remember saying that.”
“Remember, when you were talking to Simon and Arvo?” I tilt my head. “You sounded very confident you could get it done early.”
“Arvo?” Dad repeats. “What is Arvo?”
“I think what you heard me saying was that I could knock out that part of the project.”
I kick Jamie under the table. His grimace gives me a deep, carnal satisfaction.
“Once we get that one problem taken care of, it should be easy,” he says through gritted teeth.
“There’s a problem?” Mom glances between the two of us.
“In Lissa’s room.” Jamie chooses this moment to take a giant bite of pork roast, so my parents turn to me for an explanation.
"Nothing major,” I say brightly. “Hey, why don’t you two pop in some time and see for yourselves?”
“Is it a safety problem?” Dad asks Jamie, ignoring my question.
“Definitely.” Jamie nods. “Huge safety concern.”
I try to kick him again, but he’s wised up and moved his leg.
“Frankly, I’m surprised there’s only been one hospital visit,” he continues.
Aldo’s forehead wrinkles in concern. “Does Lissa need to move?”
Jamie snaps his fingers. “Well, now that you mention it…”
I cough violently. Mom offers me a glass of water, but I do the “I’m fine” hand signal. Jamie’s grinning in a way that makes me want to call Ciara’s cousin and get him framed for a felony. I’ve got to keep my cool here.
“You know, I think this problem you’re talking about might fall more into the user error category,” I say, waving my fork at him.
“How so?” he asks.
I shrug. “Maybe it’s just your lack of experience showing.”
“I fail to see how experience could help with this particular problem.”
“Maybe you’ve bitten off more than you can chew.”
"Trust me." He leans forward, never breaking eye contact. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
I mirror him. “Are you sure about that?”
We stare each other down across the table.
“Well, it’s nice to hear that things are going so well,” Mom says breezily, completely ignoring the Wild West showdown happening in her dining room. “Dad and I will have to drop in sometime and see.”
Ha. A victory dance would be too obvious, so I settle for a smirk that I hide behind my drink.
