Christine dumps the Capri Suns out on the countertop, knocking over a stack of Dixie cups in the process. “Addie took some artistic license with the under-the-sea theme.”
Greg chortles. “What she means is that she took Addie to Party City at the end of a very long day and had lost her will to fight.”
“Under the sea, huh? I’m not sure that would have been my first guess . . . or second or third,” I say, picking up a skull and crossbones centerpiece and setting it down.
Christine blows some hair out of her eyes. “Just wait until you have kids and then talk to me about the weird shit you end up doing for them.”
“Yeah, well, no danger of that happening anytime soon,” I say wryly, then catch the two of them exchange a look out of the corner of my eye.
“How’s Gran?” Christine asks as I make myself comfortable on one of their counter stools.
“She’s fine. You know how she is, doesn’t want us fussing over her.” I grab a handful of gummy sharks from one of the candy dishes set out on the island and pretend not to notice her dirty look. “She sent a gift, which I just gave to Ella.”
“I put the girls in charge of filling the goody bags. I realize that means they’re probably eating more candy than is actually making it into the bags, but I just needed them out of my hair for a bit so I could get things set up.”
“I don’t think they were eating any,” I lie, crossing my fingers behind my back. “Anyway, here I am, reporting for duty early as requested. How can I help?”
“Greg?” Christine prompts, but he just grunts, too focused on his ice task to respond, apparently. “Greg,” she tries again, this time in a warning tone, and when he looks up they proceed to have an entirely nonverbal discussion consisting of laser stares, stern eyebrows, and aggressive head tilts.
I eye them warily. “Do you two need a minute? I can go check on the girls.” And definitely not sample any of the candy they’re hoarding.
“No, we do not need a minute.” She gives him a withering look, and I’ll say this for him, he holds up under pressure far better than I did growing up. Just one of her penetrating glares and I would have folded like a cheap suit.
Their standoff continues for another few seconds before she throws up her hands and turns to me. “So, slight confession: We asked you to come over early under false pretenses.”
“What does that mean?” I slide my eyes between the two of them, trying to decode their bizarre body language. “You don’t need help?”
“Actually, I do need help,” she says, pushing a stack of paper in front of me and passing me a pair of scissors. “Will you start cutting those out? It’s for their craft.”
“Don’t give her scissors,” Greg hisses.
I exhale loudly and toss the scissors down. “Alright, enough. You guys are being weird, even for you. What’s going on?”
Christine narrows a pointed look at her husband. “Greg has something he wants to tell you.”
I swivel my head his direction and raise my eyebrows. “Well? Spit it out.”
He presses his lips together and looks heavenward before meeting my eyes again. “It was me.”
I look from him to Christine and back again. “What was you?”
He blows out a breath. “I was the one who blew your cover with Jack. I told him about your story.”
A heavy silence descends on the kitchen, and I blink at him while he rushes to explain. “I swear I didn’t mean to! We were at the baseball game and it just sort of slipped out. And then I tried to backtrack but it just made it worse, and he was asking me all these questions and I couldn’t come up with a lie quick enough and it all just . . . came out.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head, looking tortured. “I feel terrible about it, Cass. I can’t believe how badly I screwed things up for you. Everything that happened is my fault, and I want you to know I will never forgive myself.”
I listen silently, keeping my face carefully neutral. “I didn’t realize you even knew about the story,” I tell him, sliding my gaze to Christine.
Now it’s her turn to look guilty. “I’m sorry. I ended up telling him later, after our double date. He kept making comments about how weird you were at that dinner and he wouldn’t let it go, so I finally just filled him in. Which was obviously my mistake.” She aims a sharp glare Greg’s way and he hangs his head in shame.
“I see.”
“I realize there probably isn’t anything I can do to make it up to you, but if there is, please tell me,” Greg says miserably. “You can hit me if you want. I deserve it.” He braces his hands against the countertop, like I’m actually going to hurtle across the island and slug him.
I sigh. “I don’t want to hit you.”
“I really think you should hit me. It might make you feel better. It would definitely make me feel better. Seriously Cass, I feel so guilty about this. I feel like I’ve ruined your entire life.”
“Gee, thanks a lot,” I say with a stilted laugh, trying not to feel offended. “Am I really that pathetic?”
He looks at me beseechingly. “You know what I mean. Jack dumped you, you got fired, you had to move in with your grandmother to wait out the scandal—”
Now I’m definitely offended. “Excuse me, I did not get fired. I quit my job.”
He eyes Christine sideways. “Oh-kay.”
I growl and grab one of the Capri Suns to launch at his head, but he ducks at the last second and it bounces off the tile backsplash behind him. “I did not get fired! But you know what, now I do feel like punching you.”
“Okay, okay,” Christine says, stepping between us just as I’m rounding the island. “Please don’t beat my husband up before the party, visible injuries will be hard for me to explain to the other parents. And Greg, for the love of God, stop talking.”
I fake-lunge at him like a schoolyard bully and smirk when he flinches. Wuss.
“The point is, Greg’s been feeling awful about this. He didn’t want to make things worse by bringing it up while we were dealing with all the Gran stuff, but we both agreed it was time to be up-front with you.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it, offering me a sad smile. “We hate that we played any role in this, especially since all we want is to see you happy. We really are so sorry, Cass.”
The sympathy in her eyes brings my simmering emotions right back to the surface, and now I’m fighting back tears for what feels like the millionth time this month. “I know you are.” I exhale a slow breath, deciding to end Greg’s suffering. “And I appreciate you guys coming clean, but here’s the thing: I already knew.”
Greg’s head snaps up. “What do you mean, you knew?”
“I guess I shouldn’t say I knew, since Jack didn’t tell me one way or another, but I strongly suspected. Think about it: One day everything was normal and fine between us and the next it wasn’t—and the only thing that happened in between was you guys went to a baseball game.” I shrug ruefully. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.”