I wonder why Mrs. Basso stays at home when her husband isn’t around. Not like my mom, who is gone as soon as my dad leaves town for a couple of days. They couldn’t be more different.
We eat the chicken and rice with broccoli, while the three older boys fight over the food. Trent is quiet, never looking up from his plate. I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much? After dinner, Jack says that he wants to play one more game, so I go into the family room to watch television. Trent and Gabe are already in there. I decide to sit down on the opposite end of the couch as Trent. A couple of minutes later, Gabe leaves, mumbling something about homework.
I take this as my chance to find out what Trent’s problem is and why he is so set on ignoring me lately.
“So, you like Kenna?” I ask, not turning my head from the television.
“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug.
“You don’t know? Well, why did you ask Evan to ask me to ask her then?” I ask, looking at him out of the corner of my eye to try and read his expression.
He sighs and says, “I wanted to see what you would say.”
“What do you mean? If you like her, go ahead and ask her out,” I say, even though my heart is screaming at me to say something else.
“I don’t like Kenna.” He moves closer to me on the couch. I am totally confused by this boy.
“Then why did you have Evan ask me that?” I repeat, turning to face him on the couch. We have been friends since we were in diapers. Why is everything so awkward now?
“I wanted to see if you would be jealous,” he says quietly, taking my hand and entwining our fingers.
“Did you get the reaction you wanted?” I ask, not removing my hand with his.
“No, I thought you liked me. Am I wrong?” He is staring at me now, his crystal blue eyes boring into mine. I couldn’t look away if I tried.
“You are right, I do like you.” I bite my lower lip, unsure of what happens now.
“I like you too,” Trent whispers and turns around to watch television, never letting go of my hand.
Chapter 2 – Present Day 25 years old
The plane dips down and both of my hands clutch the armrests. I have never liked flying but I am extra on edge this trip. I don’t want to go back home but I have no choice. My brother has decided to finally marry his college sweetheart, Lindsey Jacobson.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Lindsey and I couldn’t ask for a better sister-in-law. The problem is that they planned a week-long wedding extravaganza and, like every other wedding of the Bigs and Littles over the years, everyone is involved. Therefore, I’m not only spending a week with Jack and Lindsey and their wedding party, but I’ll also be seeing Bryan, Mackenna, and, from what I heard last night, Trent.
A hand squeezes mine gently. “It’s alright sweetie, just some turbulence,” Ian Fisher, my best friend, says quietly.
“I know. I hate flying,” I say. Ian and I became best friends our senior year of college when we worked together at the rec center. We both lusted over the same guy but unfortunately for me, the object of our mutual affection swung Ian’s way, not mine.
I made Ian take a week off work to come with me, and since he already knows most of the people, it will make things easier. I need him there with me to face everyone again.
“It’s going to be fine Maddy, just relax.” Ian looks at me, squeezes my hand, and then goes back to reading his magazine. We both know he isn’t talking about the flight, and we also both know that things won’t be fine.
The plane lands five minutes early. I am torn with wanting to get off or not, but I know I have to. Ian and I make our way to baggage claim and he stops on the way to get one of the luggage carts.
“Why do we need that?” I ask sharply.
“For our bags. I can’t carry them all,” he snaps back to me.
“How many bags to do you have?” I met him at the gate this morning so both of us had already checked our luggage.
“I don’t know,” he says, tilting his head down to look at me.
“Oh God, you probably have more than me,” I gripe.
“Probably. Now help me pull this through,” Ian says, yanking at the cart corral.
“Here, let me help,” a deep voice says from behind us.
I see the tanned forearm easily guide the cart out of the corral. My eyes roam upward, taking in a firm bicep, strong shoulders, and when my eyes reach the face attached to all of the above, I gasp.
“Hey Madgirl, long time no see,” Gabe Basso says, smirking at me.
“Gabe,” I say stunned. I’m not ready to face him so soon.
“I know, I caught a break at work in order to get here early.” His eyes leave mine, focusing on Ian. “Hi, I’m Gabe,” he says, extending his hand out toward Ian.
Ian looks as dumbfounded as I probably do, but puts his hand out to shake Gabe’s.
“Sorry, Ian this is Gabe Basso. Gabe, this is Ian Fisher.” I motion my finger back and forth between the two of them.
“Nice to meet you,” Ian says.
Gabe nods his head to him. “What baggage claim are you guys at?” he asks.
“Five, you?” Ian takes charge of the conversation, since apparently I have been struck mute. If I am this bad in front of Gabe, how will I make it through everyone else?
Gabe’s eyes shift to me and I see the concern in his eyes. “Six,” he answers. “Is anyone picking you guys up?” he asks, still looking at me. I can’t believe how much he looks like Trent, or more accurately, how much Trent looks like him.
“I rented a car. I didn’t want to rely on anyone for rides the whole week,” I say, divulging more information than necessary.
“Do you mind if I hitch a ride? I was going to catch a cab, but since you guys are here....” he says, his sentence trailing off.
“Sure, no problem,” I say with a shrug.
The three of us walk over to our respective baggage claims. I can see Gabe’s has already started moving, but ours is still quiet. A minute later, Gabe jogs over to us, holding a garment bag in his hand.
Although it’s only June, Gabe is already tan, which I assume has to do with living in Florida instead of the Midwest. I’d heard that Gabe moved down there after college with a couple of buddies, going in together on some real estate deals. I also heard that he’s doing pretty well for himself, especially for only being twenty-eight.
My bag is the first to come off, and I hope that’s a sign that this week won’t be too bad. Ian is waiting next to his cart; he has pulled off two bags already and is going for a third. His matching plaid faux designer-print luggage is a set of five and I assume he brought every piece.
“How much luggage did he bring?” Gabe asks, motioning his head toward Ian.
“I have no idea, but I bet he comes home with even more than he brought,” I say, smiling.
“I guess he’ll be prepared for whatever is going on. From what Doug told me, it’s going to be quite a week.”
“Yeah, I haven’t heard much of anything,” I respond, raising my shoulders and looking down at my feet.
“Knowing Jack, I’m sure he’s planned a fun time.”
“That’s my brother, party planner extraordinaire,” I say, smiling back up at him, noticing how perfect and white his teeth are.
“I’m looking forward to it; it has been a killer summer. All of our houses are booked for the season and we have been working like crazy getting everything ready. It was all I could do to get the time off,” he explains. “How about you, Maddy? What’s the decorating business like?”
“Hard to get into. I do most of my work for free, just to get my foot in the door. I tried to work as an assistant for another decorator, but they just want to boss you around and do their personal errands,” I confess. I have actually thought about switching careers lately, but I don’t want to go back to school.