9. Chapter 9

In Avery's words, I'm squirmy. It's not because Rocco told me that he loves me either. In fact, every time we've seen each other, whenever we part, and before I fall asleep, he says those three magic words to me (or texts them).

They're tucked into my heart.

I'm fidgety because today, he and I have to convince people that we're a couple. I know, I know, he said he loves me, but that's not the same as getting along in public. Plus, we haven't officially discussed our status, which makes me wonder if the love is something we're keeping secret.

Or if it's a matter of convenience. Could be that Rocco's sublet expires at the end of the summer and he wants a place to stay. My brother has pulled that move. Or this could be a fling that he's fooled himself into thinking is more.

I could keep going, but he's talking to me.

"Katy, come back."

"Hmm?"

"I see what rabbit hole you've wandered down. Trust me, it doesn't lead anywhere good."

"How are we going to pull this off?" I ask.

"Pull what off?"

"The party," I say, meaning the fake relationship.

"They say opposites attract but what's the opposite of that?"

"Opposites repel. This is what I'm afraid of. We repel each other in public. We don't know how to get along."

"Or keep our hands to ourselves."

I playfully swat him.

He draws me to his chest. "Katy, the opposite of opposite is the same like how in math when multiplying two negatives gets you a...?"

"You get a positive." I know it's a rhetorical question, and he means to say we attract each other, but that bunny down the trail has its sharp little teeth in my ankle. It's like my old beliefs are holding up progress, trying to protect me.

"Are you saying we have something in common?" I ask.

"Many things."

"I'm bossy."

He shakes his head. "No, like me, you're a natural-born leader."

"I'm messy."

He looks around at my living room. "Meticulous. I'd give this place the military white glove approval."

"I can't keep my mouth shut."

"Are we talking about kissing?" The corner of his lip lifts. "You're candid and honest which in my opinion are the only way to be."

"I'm stubborn."

"You're strong." He flexes his muscles and winks.

I shake my head. "We're a terrible idea. We're too much alike."

"Yet here we are." He steamrolls my feeble protests.

"How are we going to convince my grandmother?—?"

Rocco hedges. "Isn't pretending a little dishonest?"

I shift my weight. "Tootsie does have a lot of white wisdom hairs. She might see right through it."

Inhaling and wearing a placid expression of utmost patience, Rocco says, "I'd argue that there's nothing to see through. Originally, this started as a situation for our mutual benefit. We'd pretend to like each other and I'd help bamboozle your family...and I wanted to right a wrong."

"This is going to be a minefield." I wring my hands.

He takes them in his and says, "That's not who we are anymore. Now, go get dressed. We're going to show the Fisks what love looks like."

My smile appears reluctantly because I have no idea what I did to deserve this man.

Twenty minutes later, I emerge from the bedroom wearing a sundress that hits my calves and a pair of strappy sandals, feeling very girly and Tootsie-approved.

With his arm draped across the back cushion and feet planted on the floor, Rocco dwarfs the sofa. His gaze drifts to me, top to bottom and bottom to top. Those lips I've gotten used to kissing again, the ones that regularly tell me how much he loves me, flirt with a smile and something else. "Wow. You look beautiful."

Heat creeps up my neck toward my cheeks because I think of myself as rugged, durable. Not beautiful. "When you mentioned my roses, you also said I'm prickly."

"Roses have thorns, but they're also beautiful. You are too. I'll admit though that I expected something a little edgier like a little black dress."

"My grandmother prefers when I wear things that look happy."

"Then she must love the pink T-shirt. I adore it." He smirks as he always does when I'm in my work uniform.

My cheeks grow rosy, stirring a latent longing inside me.

I wrap a loose string from the embroidered flowers around my finger. "Even though I was kind of a tomboy and from a disappointing family filled with drama, and ride motorcycles and surf, sometimes I want to be surrounded by roses. To be a girly girl. Feminine. To be seen as pretty and not just the angsty one."

Rising to his feet, Rocco cradles my jaw and says, "You are gorgeous, Katydid. You are fun and funny, smart and clever, you are a good and kind person. But you don't need me to tell you that. It's just the truth."

"How can I trust it though?" I say absently, feeling like there's one battle left to fight as I dig my way out of the trenches of the past.

"I'm afraid the battle in you has a lot to do with me. I can talk all day, but I have to show you that things are different. That you are. I am. That we can be something new and wonderful together."

"That doesn't sound like a fake date pep talk."

"That's because it's not. We can learn from our failures, but we can't let them make us live in fear. We just have to do the next right thing."

"In that case, we'd better get going. Otherwise, we'll be late for the un surprise party."

On the way out the door, I tell Rocco how Joey ruined the surprise by spilling the jellybeans at Easter. "He'd better show up today."

A strong hand grips my wrist, reeling me in. Rocco pulls me to his chest. "Whatever happens, remember, I love you."

I try to make sense of what he means, but sometimes it's like he sees the horizon before I do, which is ironic since I spend a couple of hours a day gazing at it, searching out the bumps in the distance that build into waves. Meanwhile, when it comes to the kids, I tend to anticipate their needs, complaints, and silly disputes and head them off before they erupt like cootie-filled volcanoes.

Maybe the things we have in common and our differences fit together better than I realized.

I rented out the outdoor dining area at Tootsie's favorite restaurant, the Palm & Pepper Deck, where they have hands down the best fish and chips on the coast.

I went with a floral theme with flowers fresh from my garden along with oversized gold balloons, including the numbers nine and zero. There's a big banner that I asked everyone to write a message on that says Happy Birthday, Tootsie along with confetti party poppers because what's a gathering with the Fisks without something exploding?

As the members of the family who bothered to read the invitation and show up on time filter in, it's a who's who of criminals with rap sheets represented along with parolees and petty thieves.

Then again, it's only my father who's in prison, unless Joey hasn't called because he's joined the old man in the clink.

Rocco doesn't leave my side, not even when people recognize him. He's like a watchdog, but I wonder what he's guarding me against?

As the clock ticks down to Tootsie's arrival and Joey still isn't here, I find myself sliding into a funk. A grouchy, growly, why can't anyone in my family do anything right ever fuming, overflowing, about to blow a storm of frustration funk.

Then a hand lands in mine and squeezes.

I take a deep breath and instruct everyone to find their hiding places.

Rocco and I tuck behind the hostess station by the door.

"It's just as I thought. Nothing has changed," I gripe.

He shakes his head. "You have. I don't want you to forget that. Other people have disappointed you, but tomorrow or next year, when you look back on tonight, what do you want to remember?"

I playfully study Rocco's head of hair. "No white ones and yet you're so wise."

"You want this to be special for Tootsie."

I nod, getting my bearings.

The door opens and I hear Tootsie and her friend Ellen chatting about the delicious fish and chips basket here at the Palm & Pepper Deck.

Counting down on my fingers, we all pop out and holler, "Surprise." Shouts of Happy Birthday chorus along with clapping and a few comments I'd censor if Aiden and Avery were here.

My grandmother dramatically plants her hands on her cheeks. "Oh, my goodness. I had no idea."

"Happy birthday, Tootsie. You don't turn ninety every day and we wanted to make it special."

She gives me a long hug.

"I am so surprised. Who would've thought you'd toss me a shindig like this? I mean, it's not like someone with a smart mouth would blab about it and then not show up." She peers into the crowd. "But thank you all for coming. Happy birthday to me. The very best gift you could give me is keeping a clean police record. Since I don't expect that under the birthday tree, I'll just continue to pray for you all instead of wondering where I went wrong." She smiles all the while and I realize that she did her best and takes our family's miseducation in stride.

Then her gaze lands on me with Rocco by my side and our hands clasped. She winks. "Actually, maybe I did get my birthday gift after all."

After everyone mingles for about twenty minutes, I do a headcount. Joey still isn't here. We take our seats and everyone gets fish and chips. Knowing the Fisks, had I not set a fixed menu, they would've ordered the most expensive things on it, solely because someone else is paying.

Tootsie admires the seashells and flower arrangements on the tables, thanks everyone for coming, and no sooner are we about to dig in, than Joey shows up with Delilah.

My blood pressure spikes and I get up, ready to lay into him about how inconsiderate he is. Rocco takes his napkin off his lap, wipes his mouth, and pushes out his chair.

My eyes widen because I've seen him knock a guy off this deck during a brawl. "You don't have to?—"

For the first time in recorded history, the Fisks fall into a hush as Rocco closes in on my brother.

Joey saunters forward. He's scrappy, but there is no way he could take Rocco, not even on his best day.

He leans in and whispers into my brother's ear. Joey pales. Delilah scowls. Rocco points at her and then throws his thumb over his shoulder in the universal gesture for Get out .

I expect my brother to put up a fight when someone shouts, but it's MO, Delilah's other boyfriend. He storms in, hollering at Joey and Delilah about who's dating who. My brother denies all accusations. Delilah turns purple with guilt.

"That's the guy who's been meowing at me," I mutter, preparing to ask him to leave.

"And Delilah is the one who said she'd let Tugger out, but neglected to?" Tootsie asks.

I nod and she fills Ellen in on the drama.

The oxygen leaves the air as MO and my brother beg for Delilah to come back. Tensions run high as fists form among my family members, not because they're taking a side, but because they enjoy a good brawl.

My grandmother is the first to fire shots. She tosses handfuls of French fries at MO. "That's for aggravating my granddaughter."

Ellen wads up a napkin and throws it at Delilah, adding, "That's for Tugger."

Aunt Crystal's cackle signals the games are about to begin as she squirts ketchup at them. Two of my cousins volley scoops of tartar sauce and coleslaw. Joey takes cover. The food fight continues for a solid three minutes before Tootsie says, "Once a Fisk, always a Fisk. Now, everyone settle down. I want birthday cake."

MO and Delilah vanish and above the loud hooting and whooping, the Move Over mobile revs as it exits the parking lot.

To my brother, I say, "No, you cannot have your dog back."

He skulks away without a word. I'll deal with him later.

Sitting among the wreckage, I can't help but feel like a failure. I'd tried so hard to hold our family together for my grandmother's birthday, and it all fell apart. After stuffing themselves with cake, everyone clears out, heading over to the bar where a live band plays. Tootsie taps her foot to the beat and snaps her fingers. After telling me I'm her favorite and thanking me for the fun, she follows.

It's muted out here on the deck, but the band plays, and I recognize the song. Rocco's cappuccino gaze lands on mine. It's soft, but not pitying.

He takes my hand, helping me pick over the disarray which I will help clean up later. I'll also fork over extra money to the restaurant for the trouble.

"I cannot imagine being welcome back here ever again. The Fisks are already banned from several establishments up and down the coast. Most notably Prism Point Resort."

"I take it that means we won't be getting hitched there."

I laugh.

He stops in an open area by the deck railing and the serious expression on his face suggests that he's not joking. "We'll get it sorted out."

"We will?" Disbelief vies with astonishment.

Rocco nods and takes my hand in his, then plants the other on my waist. "I liked our food fight better."

"We're a terrible idea. I know that. You know that." The words are a reflex and make me want to gag because they're so untrue, but tonight proved that ultimately people don't change, which means I won't either.

"Do I?" He shakes his head.

The song "Love at the Crossroads" filters from the bar, reminding me of what could've been. But Rocco's gaze on mine, his sandalwood scent with the faintest hint of engine assembly grease—or that could be me—his heavy, capable hands which put my brother in line without having to come to blows, rests in mine. It all tells me what is. What I must stop denying.

After a beat, he asks. "Are you going to tell your grandmother the truth?

"That this isn't fake? Of course. When she's ninety-one."

"I think we both know that's a whopper. But I meant the other truth."

As the sun sets, painting the sky cotton candy colors, the truth that's not only been on the horizon but also in my heart edges its way out, checking if it's safe.

Rocco's cappuccino eyes are so clear, so steady, I can no longer hold back. "Yes, I'll tell Tootsie. But you're going to hear it first." As we slowly dance to our song, the one from when we first kissed, I say, "I love you."

His lips drop to mine and just before they meet, he says, "I was hoping so."

We dance until "Love at the Crossroads" ends and then head down to the beach as the liquid sun disappears, but instead of plopping down in the sand, Rocco leads us toward Sand Dollar Strand.

"Remember when we'd come up here and swim in the middle of the night?" he asks.

"And pick out which house we'd want to live in."

"You mean to break into?"

I chuckle. "That too. You're wearing you're let's cause trouble grin."

"I don't know what you mean."

"To this day, I've never set foot inside one of these mansions."

"Never?"

"I always dreamed of living in that one." I point.

"I was hoping so," he repeats.

My heart does a little hiccup, but maybe my thoughts are circling what we've finally allowed and admitted. Hand in hand, Rocco draws us toward the gate that opens to the path up the bluff that leads to the mansion.

"Remember the rich girls who lived up here? If they gave me the time of day, it would be wrong on purpose. But Bea and I are friends now, bonding over being small business owners in town. Dee Dee is back and is as sweet as ever. It doesn't annoy me like it used to, which says a lot about how much I've changed."

"Remember Finn? We toilet papered his place on more than one occasion."

"Mostly because we were jealous of his rad car collection. Last I heard he was in a terrible accident." Old me would've promptly moved on. Now, I pray he's okay.

We pass a little wooden sign with a seahorse that I recall from years ago that says Welcome Home . We start climbing and soon I'm drawing short breaths. "Funny that there are things you remember and others you forget...like how many steps there are to the top of the bluff."

"True, but I didn't forget about you." Rocco relays that during his time abroad, facing enemies and gunfire, when prayer and grit were all he had left, I was the angel that would appear in his mind.

"You helped me get through the war zone."

My chest clenches, not wanting to imagine the difficulties he's faced, but also grateful for his bravery and dedication to our country...to me. "Speaking of, what did you say to my brother? Wait. Let me guess, that you were going to tell Delilah about the time he—" A dusty memory of my brother nearly blowing himself up after testing whether his flatulence was flammable crops up. See? Some boys do have cooties.

"No, I told him that I'm Tugger's favorite, and you're keeping him. Also, if he knows what's good for him, he'll get his act together, otherwise, when he's least expecting it, someone he doesn't know will do it for him. Trust me, humble pie does not taste good. I have the scars to prove it."

I tuck my chin. "You did that for me? Thank you."

"And that's not the only thing."

It's true. At the party, Rocco reminded me to remain rooted in the person I've become and not revert and react to my dysfunctional family.

He opens the upper gate and gestures for me to enter.

"We can't sneak up there. Nowadays, everyone has cameras."

"And guard dogs."

Just then, Tugger bounds toward us. Confused, I frown. "What is going on? How'd he get here?"

Rocco's eyes sparkle in the dim light. "I remember going to your grandmother's seventy-fifth birthday. We snuck off with the big tub of fancy popcorn. It was the first day we met."

"Have we really known each other for fifteen years?"

"Give or take."

"How can something that happened so long ago feel like yesterday? Time flies."

"No, love is spelled T-I-M-E. Someone I know, who also doesn't have any wisdom hairs that I can tell, said that recently."

"Oh stop."

"I won't. I won't stop loving you, Katydid. Never."

I don't know what to say to that so I let it sink in, go deep down, and touch the most guarded parts of my heart. I squeeze Rocco's hand so he knows that I heard him.

Then I say, "How do you tell someone they mean the world to you?"

His crooked mouth lifts with a smile. "You show them."

We turn to look out to sea and at the waves sparkling in the moonlight. The view is spectacular. But it's second to the man holding me in his arms.

"Oh. Wow." I'm not sure if it's in response to him remembering that, the view, or whatever is growing between us.

"Come on, there's more to check out," Rocco says.

"I've just barely earned the trust of the local law enforcement and after the events at the Palm & Pepper Deck, I don't want to get in trouble."

His lips ripple with a smile. "Words I never expected to hear out of your mouth."

"The object was always to avoid trouble," I counter.

"By making plenty of it?" Rocco's eyebrow pitches.

I bob my head from side to side. "Fair point. That's the problem with trouble."

We cross a broad lawn. The moonlight shines on the big windows of my dream house overlooking the sea.

He says, "I've been thinking...I don't want the summer to end."

"No one ever does."

"Being here with you, my sister, and the kids, I recently realized that family is everything."

"Unless you're a Fisk."

"Tootsie had a blast at the party. You are her favorite. But now it's our turn." We're on the patio, decorated with greenery and outdoor furniture.

"Rocco, we can't break into the house."

"What if I have the key?"

"That's still a felony."

"What if I have the deed?"

I gasp. "What do you mean?"

"I bought this place. Figured I'd stay a while. Since it was always your favorite mansion on the Strand, I'd hoped you'd visit me."

Tugger races around the yard, zipping past the glowing pool, gleeful with all the ground to cover.

My smile is no longer reluctant because I realize what this means. "The house is special, but this is bigger. You're really, truly staying?" I ring my arms around Rocco's neck.

"You won't be able to get rid of me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

He grips my waist and spins me around before pausing for one long moonlit kiss.

"Let's go look around. See what kind of life two kids from the D-side can live in a place like this." He winks. "Plus, I may have a couple more surprises up my sleeve."

For once, I don't have to worry about Joey ruining them.

I grip Rocco's hand in mine, looping him back for one more kiss. "I love the sound of that...and I love you."

"You're the one I want," he replies.

"I'm all yours and you're mine."

Our lips meet and I think back to getting stuck in the window at Pinky's when Rocco returned to town, glaring hate eyes, and meeting him with animosity. But now, it's full-on heart eyes with love overflowing from my chest that I pour into the kiss.