45 • Painting Fences • 45

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After my stepbrother's finished football practise, Freya and me met them in the parking lot

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After my stepbrother's finished football practise, Freya and me met them in the parking lot. I was squashed in the middle of Freya and Tommy in the back seat. The whole car ride nobody mentioned the conversation Freya and I had. My stepbrother's and Freya made small talk whilst I had the conversation I had with Freya circling around in my head until we arrived at Freya's place. We dropped Freya off at a restaurant, Calloway's, which Tommy informed me her father owns. Freya's family lived in an apartment above it. 

When we got home, Peter had made us a carbonara. He got us to set the table, but it ended up being just me doing it. Tommy started to help me, but got distracted by Harry starting to bicker with him about something I wasn't paying attention to. It seemed Harry was still able to get under his brother's skin, despite him previously saying it was easier to get under mine than theirs. Sebastian, however, sat at the island on his phone. He ignored any request from his father about helping and seemed unfazed when his Dad sent him the odd glare when he passed him to put something on the table.

"Where's my Mom?" I asked Peter as I picked up the salad bowl from besides him.

"She's stuck at the firm working on a big case," He explained and smiled. "Why, you prefer her cooking?"

"No, she's a terrible cook." I laughed. "She can't even make carbonara. And with every pasta dish she makes, she let's the pasta get so soggy that it sticks together."

"Believe me, I know." Peter chuckled. "When me and your mother started dating, one of the first meals she made for me was a pasta dish. Let's put it this way, it wasn't her cooking skills that made me fall for her."

I wanted to say I can't see why you'd fall for her anyway, but I bit my tongue. Who was I to judge what people saw in other people? Besides, the only light my Mom presented herself to me was not very flattering. Maybe to outsiders, she came across better.

When the table was set, everyone sat down. We jumped through hoops of questions from Peter as he tried to get us to talk about our day, clearly not settling for the disengaging 'it was fine' reply. The boys told him about practise and I told him something about one of my classes. When Peter had covered the corner of the father trying to check up on his kids lives, he made a shift turn to inform us on something; or more specifically inform me.

"I had a phone call today." Peter began, causing our attention to fall on him. "From Mrs Williams."

I almost choked on my food as the name left his mouth and Harry shot a glare in my direction as if he was telling me to play it cool.

"Oh, how is she?" Harry said, flashing his Dad a smile. It was the first time I had ever seen his charm work in my favour. "Last time we saw her she was saying something about getting their beach house refurbished. How's that coming along?"

I almost choked on my food yet again as I heard the fake interest stick to his words as he spoke to his Dad. Peter must have known Harry's ability to charm people. He was his son, after all. Nevertheless, Peter seemed oblivious. Seemingly replying about not knowing about the beach house and muttering something about the Williams' having more money than they knew what to do with. However, Harry's distraction only worked for so long.

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