First, I want to say happy anniversary to The Husband! Today is our eleventh anniversary. We got married pretty young (two months before my twentieth birthday) and I heard later that there was some whispering among some relatives that we must have been getting married because we were having a baby. Eleven years later and that baby still hasn’t been born, so I guess we really did get married just because we wanted to be married. 😉
I have another sneak peek at The Boyfriend Thief today. (The cover will be revealed on Monday!) One thing I really like in The Boyfriend Thief is the relationship between Avery, her dad, and her younger brother Ian. It’s just been the three of them for the last four years and they’re still trying to figure out how they all fit into their new family roles. They argue, they tease, they keep secrets, and they get really, really mad at each other sometimes, but they also really depend on each other. Since Father’s Day is this weekend, I thought I’d show you one of my favorite scenes with Avery’s dad.
Excerpted from The Boyfriend Thief by Shana Norris
“Morning, sunshine,” Dad said as I padded into the kitchen Saturday morning. Or at least, I thought it was my dad. I had to do a double take to make sure. He sat at the table, dressed in a T-shirt, athletic shorts, and running shoes with a white sweatband wrapped around his head and matching mini sweatbands around his wrists.
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Did Halloween come early?”
“Funny,” Dad said as he drank the last of his orange juice. “I’m meeting Trisha for a jog around the park.”
I had pulled open the refrigerator to grab the milk from its spot on the third shelf, but now I froze, my hand hovering in the air. “Jogging? You?” This statement had spun me for a loop so fast that I ignored the mention of his girlfriend.
“I jog,” Dad insisted.
“Since when?”
“Okay, I haven’t done it since college, but it’ll be good for me,” Dad said. He thumped his chest with his fist. “Get some fresh air into these old lungs.”
“I think you should be more concerned with not getting any air at all into your old lungs. No offense, Dad, but you’re not exactly athletic. It’s been over twenty years since you regularly exercised.”
I poured myself a bowl of cereal and then sat down at the table across from him. Dad looked indignant that I was questioning his jogging abilities.
“I used to run track in high school,” Dad said. “A little jogging won’t kill me.”
“Jogging?” said Ian as he stumbled into the room, his eyes still half-closed. “You’re going jogging?”
Dad slapped the table. “Why do you kids think I can’t do something as simple as jogging? It’s not like I’m running a marathon.”
I stuffed a spoonful of cereal into my mouth to avoid answering.
Ian wasn’t so worried about sparing Dad’s feelings. “I’ve never seen you even walk fast,” he said as he grabbed his Cap’n Crunch off the top of the refrigerator. “Except for one time at the grocery store when they announced there were free samples of buffalo wings in the meat department.”
Dad got up from the table and put his empty glass into the sink. “You two think you know everything,” he said, turning around to scowl at us. “I’ll see you later—after my nice jog.”
With that, Dad stomped out of the room. The front door slammed a moment later.
“He’ll be coming home in an ambulance, won’t he?” Ian asked as he sat down.
“Very likely. He’s jogging with Trisha.”
“So?” Ian asked, spraying bits of food across the table.
“Ew.” I wiped a chunk of chewed up Crunchberry off my arm. Dad’s latest self help book caught my eye on the edge of the counter. Finding Love When All You Feel is Lost.
“How serious do you think he is about her?”
Ian shrugged. “I’d say our dad jogging is pretty serious.”
I swirled my spoon around in my bowl, watching the last few pieces of cereal spin in circles on top of the milk.
“Do you think much about her?” I asked quietly.
The thing about Ian and me was that I didn’t have to tell him who I meant. He’d know. We had been through it all together: him crying while curled up in my lap, me rocking him back and forth and promising everything would be okay. And I had meant it. Everything would be okay. I would make sure of it.
“Not really,” he answered after a pause.
And the other thing about Ian and me: I always knew when he was lying.