"She's right," Patty says, quiet and easy. "I know Caleb. He loves Dakota like his own, and he's going to be fine, but fine and immediately fine are two different things."
That's true. My dad has loved Dakota for years, has watched him grow up alongside Levi, has fed him at our table more times than I could count. This isn't about who Dakota is. It's about who I am to my father, and no amount of logic makes that a smaller thing than it is.
"Well," I say, and I look at my mom, and then at Patty, and then at Dakota beside me, and I say it clearly and without hesitation, because I decided something last night and I'm not walking it back. "He's going to have to get used to it. I love Dakota, and he's not going anywhere."
The table goes quiet for a beat.
Dakota's thumb moves across the back of my hand, before he reaches up and cups my chin. He slightly pulls it so that I’m tilting my head to the side, and he leans in, sneaking a kiss that we make sure not to let get out of hand.
My mom's eyes fill up, just briefly, and then she blinks it back and straightens, and when she picks her fork up again there's a smile on her face that she's not quite hiding. "No," she says. "I don't imagine he is."
Patty reaches over and pats my mom's arm, and the two of them share the kind of look that passes between women who have been friends long enough to have a whole conversation in a glance, and whatever it says seems to settle something between them.
"Family dinner," my mom says, making it a decision. "On Wednesday,” she scrolls through her phone. “Looks like everybody is off that night. Including your grandparents. We'll do it all at once, everybody together, and we'll let it be what it is."
"That works for me," Dakota says, and his voice is the steadiness I’ve come to rely on, the way that tells me he's not worried about any part of this, not the dinner, not my dad, not any of it. He's decided too, and that knowledge makes the rest of it feel manageable instead of overwhelming.
"Good." My mom picks up her coffee and looks at the two of us over the rim of it, and the smile that's been threatening finally takes over her whole face. "Now can we please just enjoy breakfast? I've been up since six and I need my eggs."
Patty laughs, and Dakota snorts beside me, and I lean back against the booth and let the morning settle around us, this ordinary Saturday in The Café with our mothers, and I think that for something we kept to ourselves for months, it's turning out to be a remarkably uncomplicated thing to share.
Chapter 19
Dakota
"Are you going to be okay doing this?" Molly asks me.
She came over after breakfast yesterday and hasn't left yet. We made good use of our time together, and I'm feeling it from the burn in my thighs. Last night I took her from behind with her hair wrapped around my fist, and my legs are sore as fuck.
"Yeah," I confirm, dropping a kiss to her lips. "Your brother deserves to hear this from me, and I want to make sure he gets it. I don't want to blindside him any more than I want to blindside your dad."
I texted Levi last night and asked him if he wanted to go fishing today. He agreed quickly, and I'm going to meet him in the next hour. My stomach is nervous, but I know I have to do this. If Molly and I want to live a happy life, then we need to come clean with all the people we've been keeping this secret from.
"if you need help, you can call me. I know how to handle my brother," she teases.
I do too, but I have a feeling by the end of this day, I'm going to have a black eye, or a split lip. "Trust me Pretty Girl, I got this."
She snorts, and gets out of bed. My eyes follow her bare ass as she walks to the bathroom. "Tell me that again after you tell him."
The closer I get to our fishing spot, the more I'm thinking about maybe I should've allowed Molly to come with me. I've disappointed Levi before in our friendship, but I've never outright lied to him, and I've been doing that now for months.
I'm worried that this will change our friendship in ways we won't be able to get back, and although we haven't worked together lately, I'm worried about him being my partner too.
Because that's the thing about Levi and me that most people don't fully understand. We're not just best friends. He’s my brother. He stood up for me in school when nobody else would. He didn't have to do that for me. He chose to do it, and he kept choosing it, and there is a version of my life without that choice that I am genuinely grateful I've never had to live.
Which is exactly why I'm doing this in what I hope is the right way. He deserves it.
The fishing spot is about four miles outside of town, down a gravel road that I've been driving since I was old enough to follow Levi and his dad out here on Saturday mornings. The river comes through a bend at the bottom of a gentle slope, and there's a flat stretch of bank where the water slows way down and the fish gather, especially when it’s cold. We've spent more hours here than either of us could probably count, and I think part of why I suggested this place specifically is because whatever happens today, it'll happen somewhere that has a long history of the two of us working things out.
He's already there when I pull up, sitting on the tailgate of his truck with his gear laid out beside him, and he raises a hand when he sees me. He looks relaxed, and that makes my chest feel worse, because he doesn't know yet that this isn't just a fishing trip.
"You're almost late," he says, when I get close enough.
"I'm on time." I drop my gear onto the bank and start setting up. "You're just early."
"You know it’s fucking habit." He hops off the tailgate and picks up his rod. "Water looks good this morning."
It does. The river is running clear, and the light is coming down through the trees at an angle. If I didn't have what I have to say sitting on my chest, this would be a genuinely good day.