Deep Surrendering: Episode Nine Read Online Free Page B

to tell Chloe, I wouldn’t mind. You need to have someone to confide in.”
    “Do you have someone?” I asked. Other than Sapphire, I’d never heard him talk about anyone like that.
    “Well, it used to be Sapphire, but now I guess it’s you. I’m not really used to confiding in anyone.”
    “But you need to have someone other than me to talk to. About me.” I laughed a little. I wasn’t the most eloquent tonight.
    “I know I should. But I don’t get along with that many people.”
    “You need a guy friend. A bromance, if you will.” I took the pasta out of the sink and put it back in the pot, threw in a jar of sauce, and turned the heat on low.
    Fin laughed loudly and I congratulated myself for making it happen.
    “I can’t foresee a bromance in my future, but I’ll give it a shot. Maybe I could be friends with that fellow Rory is seeing.” Now that would be interesting. And convenient for both Rory and me.
    “Well, when you get back we can make the two of you go on a man date or something.” I pictured the two of them getting dressed up and having dinner at a fancy restaurant and maybe playing footsie under the table. Actually, that was kind of hot.
    “It’s a plan.” I could tell he was going to say he needed to go, and then he did.
    “It’s okay. I’m having dinner with my parents anyway,” I said, stirring the pasta and sauce so it didn’t stick to the bottom of the pan.
    “I want to see your face. I’m hoping we can video chat sometime this week.”
    Ooohh, I was definitely looking forward to that. Not even for the potential of cam sex. I just wanted to see his face, his smile. I’d missed it. Fin wasn’t big on pictures. The only physical one I had was from his chubby days in school.
    “I would love that,” I said.
    We said goodbye and hung up. I set my phone on the counter and turned my attention to the pasta. I finally got it hot again and took it to the formal dining room my parents always used. Dad came back leading Mom who was sleep-rumpled and had a grumpy expression on her face.
    “But it’s nine in the morning,” she protested. “We can’t have pasta at nine in the morning.” Dad guided her to her seat and she sat. She had a satin dressing gown on over her nightgown. And she looked old. My parents had had me when they were older, but now I was realizing just how old they were getting. That was a sobering thought. I didn’t want to think about my parents being old.
    “It’s seven in the evening, dear. You’ve slept the day away,” Dad said with forced cheerfulness.
    “It is?” She glanced up at one of the clocks on a high shelf. I could see the confusion on her face as she tried to figure out what time it was.
    “Oh, it is.”
    “Hi, Mom,” I said, putting a smile on my face that felt wrong.
    “Oh, Marisol. What are you doing here?”
    “I came to have dinner with you. Is that okay?” I’d never shown up unannounced for dinner since I’d graduated high school and gone out on my own. And even when I lived in this house I tried to skip dinner as much as I could.
    “Well, I suppose. But you really should have called ahead of time. What if there’s not enough food?” I didn’t get into the fact that I’d made said food. That would just launch her on another tirade about me cooking.
    “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll remember to do that next time,” I said, swallowing my pride. I was going to be doing that a lot tonight.
    “Doesn’t this look good?” Dad asked. He had that tone that people use with children and the sick. I hated it. Mom might be losing her mind, but she was still Mom. Keep things consistent.
    “Why are you talking like that?” she asked Dad, glaring at him.
    He looked at me and shrugged. “No reason.”
    He served all of us and I passed around a salad.
    “Is this it?” Mom said, wrinkling her nose at the plate in front of her. “This is pitiful. What are we paying cooks for if this is what they turn out? I think I need to go back and