Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“She actually had four more sequels planned after Parable of the Talents, but then she suffered from a really bad bout of writer’s block-”

“Will you please shut up about the book already?”

“Octavia Butler is already discussed so little in popular culture! You can’t just tell me you’ve read Parable of the Sower and then not let me talk about the series with you.”

The door of the ice cream shop jingled to a shut behind Jacob. “Look, I ain’t saying that I wish you were there in his place, but I certainly wish we hadn’t let Morton tag along. That guy was kissing chicken wings left and right.”

“Everything you tell me about the meeting only makes me wish I was there more,” Jacob sighed.

“What, are you kidding me?” Melissa joined Jacob by the pane of glass separating them from the ice cream, inspecting the rows of flavors that met their eyes. “Wish I had gotten to tag along on that double date last week. Gregory really stood up and yelled across the bar? Gregory?”

“Gregory! Melissa, you should’ve seen him, he was an absolute wreck. He even called me Jake.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“There is no way Gregory Thompson Eddie called you Jake.” The customers ahead of them, a mom with two kids clad in soccer jerseys, grabbed their cones and stepped to the side. “Know what you want?”

“I’m thinking Birthday Cake.”

Melissa scoffed at the brightly colored sprinkled concoction Jacob was pointing to. “What’s the point of getting one dessert if you want it to taste like another one?”

“Aren’t you getting Strawberry? What’s the point of you getting a fruit flavor when you can just eat the fruit instead? And before you correct me, yes, strawberries are botanically classified as a fruit-”

“Alright, alright, I get it. We’ll just silently judge each other over our ice cream choices.” Before Jacob could protest that he would never judge her, Melissa pulled them over to the cash register. “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon,” the cashier responded, the customer service glint shining brightly in her eye. “What can I get for you two?”

“One scoop of Strawberry in a cup and one scoop of Birthday Cake in a…” Melissa turned to Jacob. “You want it in a cup or cone, kid?”

“Oh, you don’t have to pay for me.”

“Who said I was I paying?”

“Hardy har,” Jacob said flatly, but he still reached for his wallet. “A cup, please.”

The cashier was back within a minute, sliding their ice creams over the counter. “That’ll be six dollars.”

“Six?” Jacob repeated. “Are you sure it’s not seven? The menu says that a scoop of ice cream in a cup costs three fifty.”

Before Melissa could kick Jacob for charging himself full price, the cashier was pointing at a sign taped to the window. “We’re running a special all week for Mother’s Day. Moms and their kids get a discount on any single scoop ice cream.”

Melissa and Jacob both froze, staring at the Canva creation that met their eyes. Pasted on it were a vast collection of clip art images of mothers with their children, each photo of an art style so different it was almost comical. In the center was a redheaded pair of mother and son embracing happily.

Jacob sputtered and stammered his way into speech. “Oh, no, we’re not-”

“Yep.” Melissa clasped Jacob’s shoulder, squeezing until he clamped his mouth shut. “Mother and son. Got my eyes and everything. Hey, how much is that discount?”

“Fifteen percent.”

“Fifteen percent!” Melissa whistled, delivering a slap to Jacob’s back. “Can I just say, it is so nice that we frequent an establishment that recognizes the importance of family. Don’t you agree, Jacob?”

The two had decided to get ice cream after school to work off the incoming summer heat, but it seemed that Melissa would also need it to cool down from the blood rushing to her cheeks. She would let herself feel the full mortification of being mistaken for her roommate’s mother when she went to bed that night and stuffed her face into her pillow. But right now, she had to make sure that said roommate didn’t screw himself out of a discount.

Melissa tightened her grip on Jacob’s shoulder with every second he let pass in silence, and finally, he cleared his throat, looking like he had to dig deep in order to plant the smile on his face. “Yep,” he said hesitantly. “I absolutely agree… Mom.”

Melissa doubted there was any flavor sweeter than Birthday Cake, yet Jacob grabbed his cup with the most sour look Melissa had ever seen on him. “Have a happy Mother’s Day!” the cashier said cheerily.

“Thanks,” Jacob and Melissa said in unison. When the two made their way out of the shop, Melissa made sure they were out of sight before taking aim.

“Ow,” Jacob said with a pout, using his foot to rub at the shin Melissa had kicked. “What was that for?”

“That was for you almost losing a free discount.”

“Was there a need to specify that the discount was free? When would a person have to pay for a discount?”

“You know what I mean,” Melissa said, knocking their cups together. “She wouldn’t have given it to us if she didn’t think we were related.”

“We don’t even look that alike.”

Melissa was inclined to agree, and she turned to Jacob to say so. But when they locked eyes, she saw how they really were the same color, and when they walked under a patch of sunlight, she saw how his hair shined red. “Nah,” she found herself saying. “Nah, we kinda do, actually.”

She wasn’t sure what the look over Jacob gave her was meant to mean. Maybe he agreed with her. Maybe he didn’t. “Well, no more using our fraudulent relation to get discounts,” he said. “Not sure if that experience was worth saving a single dollar.”

“Back in my day, a single dollar would’ve bought us these two ice creams.” Sliding onto a park bench, the two held out their cups to each other, silently exchanging small spoonfuls of their flavors. “You were saying something about Parable of the Talents earlier?”

Finally, Jacob’s face gave way for a genuine smile. “One of the sequels was going to named Parable of the Teacher, which I really wish Octavia Butler had been able to complete…”

Chapter Text

“Could it be? Jacob Hill?”

“Hey, Mikey!” Jacob took his hands out of his pockets, returning the man’s complicated handshake.

“Mike of Mike’s Cleaners?” Melissa asked.

“The one and only,” Mike said with a grin, spreading out his arms. “Where you’ve been, Jake? I never see you here with Zach no more.”

Even though the two had mostly smoothed things over at Janine’s party, the look on Jacob’s face made it clear that Mike had run over a rough patch. “We called things off a couple of months ago, actually.”

“Really? Shit, I thought you two kids were going to stay together forever.”

“Yeah, we thought that once, too,” Jacob said sheepishly, rubbing at his neck. “We’re still friends, though.”

“Happy to hear it.” His eyes still on Jacob, Mike nodded over at Melissa. “So, you’re back at home now?”

“Oh! Oh. Um, well, uh, Mikey, you see…”

Watching Jacob’s face turn a shade of red brighter than her hair, it was all Melissa could do to not hop over the counter and stick her head into the nearest washing machine. Had she known that she would be subject to the mortifying ordeal of being mistaken for Jacob’s mother- again- she would have sent Jacob to the dry cleaner’s alone. Hell, at the rate they were being mistaken for mother and son, it wouldn’t be safe for them to go out in public anymore. They’d have to stop working at Abbott together, just to be careful. And he’d have to stop living with her so people didn’t think anything of that, either. Maybe it would be best if they just erased all of their memories of each other. As sound as all of those plans sounded, they were still stuck in the dry cleaner’s, so before Melissa could put out the familial fire, she had to first contain it.

“I’m Jacob’s-”

“Mom!”

Melissa’s head snapped back to Jacob, but nowhere on his face could she see the embarrassment or regret or wishing for a real-life Eternal Sunshine that she was feeling. “Yep, back at home with my mom,” Jacob said with a closed mouth smile, slipping an arm through Melissa’s. “She’s letting me crash with her until I find my own place again.”

“Hey, another member of the Hill clan! Looks like I can finally put that family discount to good use.”

Now that got Melissa to put her plans for a new life on hold. “Discount?”

“When I broke my leg a few years back, your Jacob walked my dog twice a day for a whole two months until I finally got my cast off. Wouldn’t let me pay him, so I promised him and all of his family a fifteen percent discount on all their dry cleaning for as long as I own this place.”

“Aren’t you glad we came out to West Philly now, Mom?” Jacob pulled his arm out of hers, if only to slide it over Melissa’s shoulders. “We get to support a business that supports family, just like you always love to do.”

Jacob was turning out to be quite the discount magnet. At this point, Melissa was gearing up to claim him as a dependent. “It’s the best.” Melissa laid her jacket down, willing her smile to not twist into a smirk. “One of my kids got a little overexcited during Arts and Crafts time on the last day of school. I was gonna wash out the paint at home, but my son here says you’ve got the best dry cleaning place in Philly.”

“Hey, you’re a teacher too, huh? Must run in the family. That and the eyes.” Pulling the jacket towards him, Mike gave Melissa and Jacob a final look-over, nodding in appreciation of their perceived shared features. “For raising such a good son, Mrs. Hill, I’m giving you twenty percent off today.”

“Oh, no, you shouldn’t! Alright, if you insist.”

“If only your Jacob had the same instinct for a good bargain,” Mike guffawed. “I’ll have your jacket all cleaned up by the end of the week. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hill.”

“Likewise, Mikey.”

Jacob let out a sigh only when the door of the shop jingled shut behind them. “Melissa-”

“I am so proud of you.” When Melissa pinched his cheeks, Jacob’s face glowed an impossibly brighter red. “I never thought you had it in you to scam your friends. You really are my kid.”

“Alright, alright,” Jacob said, slapping her hands away. “You got me a discount, I got you a discount. The favor’s been repaid.”

“If anything, I owe you a favor now, since you got me a bigger discount.”

“Ice cream’s on you next time, then.” Sliding into Melissa’s car, Jacob’s face found a new home squarely in front of the air conditioner.

“At least put your seatbelt on before falling into your pit of existential angst.” Personally, Melissa was waiting until she went out for drinks with Barbara later that night to sink into hers. “Why’d I never hear about this Mikey before today? Good enough friend for you to walk his dog for months, not good enough for me to know he existed?”

“Oh, Mikey and I aren’t friends. He just told me about needing someone to walk his dog, and I offered. I don’t even really know him, honestly.”

“What do you mean, you barely know him?” Melissa asked, her brow furrowing. “You’ve got the handshake and everything.”

“Oh, that was nothing. I just dapped him up.”

“You what?”

“Here, I’ll teach you. You hold out your hand-”

“Yeah, I don’t want to do all of that.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, aren’t you a teacher?”

“Yeah.”

“So why am I the one schooling you?”

“Fuck off, Vincent.” Melissa watched with a sullen frown as Vincent scooped her chips up. “Better start counting your days instead of counting your cards.”

However annoying she found her neighbor from across the street, it was multiplied tenfold by the exaggerated sigh he exhaled when he finished his beer. “Gonna go grab another drink. Seb, you want the next game?”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Despite her exclamation, Vincent’s son Sebastian switched off his phone in favor of shuffling the cards his dad held out to him. “What in the fresh hell is this?”

“What in the fresh hell does it look like? Sebbie’s tapping in for me.”

“I don’t think so.” Sebastian was in the midst of a mathematics PhD, and rumor had it that his studies of calculations and probabilities translated all too well to the card games his father favored. After losing one too many poker games to Vincent at one too many neighborhood block parties, Melissa would be damned before she lost to his pint-sized replica.

“Ah, come on, Melissa, he’s my kid. Throw us a bone, let him tap in.”

Before Melissa could tell Vincent exactly where he could shove his bone, a round of groans rose from the table next to them. Judging by his sheepish grin and mountain of chips, Jacob was having a much better night than her. She recalled the one and only time they had played poker, an Open House that had ended with Melissa being demolished and ruing to never play the game with Jacob again. But surveying the sight of his success, she remembered that she had never sworn off getting the kid to play for her.

“Jacob! Get over here!”

“What are you calling him over for?”

“If your son gets to tap in for you, then mine gets to tap in for me.”

Vincent furrowed his brow. “I know that ain’t your son.”

“What, are you kidding? Of course he is. Got my eyes and everything.” 

“He doesn’t have your hair.”

“That's because it’s dark outside. Trust me, when the sun's out, it looks just like mine.”

If Jacob had heard what Melissa said, he didn't show it as he slipped his way into the empty seat next to her. “What’s up, M-”

“Hey, kid.” Melissa clasped his shoulder, the same way she had all those weeks ago in the ice cream shop. “Vincent, Sebastian, allow me to formally introduce you to my son, Jacob.”

“Please,” Vincent scoffed. “You want to get me a stroller and push me around in it, since you clearly think I was born yesterday? I know he’s not your son.”

Jacob’s shoulder tensed under her hand, but when Melissa turned back to him, she saw how his aggravation wasn’t directed at Melissa for enlisting him in her scheme. No, it was pointed squarely at Vincent for having the audacity to question it, to question her. “And how would you know that?” Jacob said, crossing his arms.

“Melissa’s been in that house for almost thirty years. You only showed up a few months ago. Where’ve you been all that time?”

A wrench thrown into Melissa’s otherwise perfect works. She wondered if it was too late to fake a maternity test.

“You Sicilian?” Jacob asked.

“Of course I’m Sicilian. You’ll be hard pressed to find anyone in this neighborhood that isn’t.”

“Then you should know that a Sicilian’s never going to spill the beans on their family’s business.” Jacob plucked the shuffled deck out of Sebastian’s hands. “Are we playing or are we playing?”

Before Sebastian could grab the cards that Jacob slid over to him, Vincent snatched them up. “First game’s with me. One hand of Texas Hold’em.”

“Thought you were going to go grab a drink,” Melissa said.

“Sebastian.” Vincent’s son wordlessly got up from his seat, making a beeline for the coolers. “Free labor. One of the many joys of having children. Not that you’d know, Melissa.”

Son or no son, Melissa had gotten more than her fair share of unpaid labor out of Jacob. But she imagined that if she said that aloud, Jacob would say something about how any amount of unpaid labor was more than anyone’s fair share.

Dammit. Even with the version of him in her head, it was still annoying when he was right.

“Are we playing for money, or just the chips?”

Vincent spoke before the fifty dollar hole in Melissa’s wallet could. “I win, and you’ve got to admit that you’re not Melissa’s kid.”

“If I win, you’ve got to admit that I am her kid.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“You sure you don’t want to bet any money on this?” Melissa asked. “Because poker’s kind of a pointless game if you don’t bet any money. How about fifty? Or five tens? Or one ten and two twenties? Or ten fives?” She knew that neither man would take the bet, that both of them were playing to prove a point. But dammit, wouldn’t it have been nice if they did.

They hadn’t even gotten through the pre-flop before Vincent spoke up again. “So, Jacob. Where you’ve been all this time?”

“Can it, Vincent. Jacob, stay focused.”

“Come on, Jakey, tell me something. Anything. Where’d you grow up? East Philly? West? For the love of God, don’t say North.”

Jacob raised Vincent’s bet, pushing in a stack of ten chips. “You folding?”

Melissa could see how Jacob’s muted reaction made Vincent hold his line of fire. Still, it was only when she wrapped an arm around Jacob’s shoulders that Vincent finally dropped it. “No, I’m not,” he said, matching Jacob’s bet.

The game finally gave way for silence, threatened a minute later by the clink of the beer Sebastian set down on the table. In the split second of eye contact father and son shared, Melissa could see how the sight of Sebastian made Vincent’s icy blue eyes melt. The bruiser would never admit it, but Sebastian was his soft center, and he was loath to let the world harden his son the way it had hardened him. It was why he bragged about Sebastian’s PhD program with the same fervor he had when the kid was first accepted. It was why he insisted on making Jacob play him in poker instead. Really, Vincent was nothing more than a sheep in wolf’s clothing. But when he turned back to Jacob, the wolfish grin on his face reminded Melissa that Vincent was more than comfortable when in costume.

“Two kings,” Vincent said, verified with a quick flip of his cards. “And it looks like we’ve got two more kings in the community cards, which looks like I’ve got four of a kind.”

“Darn it,” Jacob sighed. “My highest card’s a queen. What am I supposed to do with that and a ten?” Melissa almost joined Jacob in his pity party, until she saw how Vincent’s eyes widened at the sight of his cards. “Oh, hey,” Jacob mused. “Looks like we’ve got a jack, nine, and eight in the community cards, too. What does that look like to you, Mom?”

No need for the maternity test. Only a child of Melissa’s could’ve swept their competition so swiftly. “It looks like you straight flushed this piece of shit down the drain.”

Jacob reached out to the hand that Vincent held across the table, but only when Vincent got up and rounded the table did Melissa return his handshake. “I know he’s not your kid,” he muttered, just loud enough for Melissa to hear. “But I’ll give you this. He’s got your pride.”

As far as Melissa was concerned, that was all Jacob needed to be considered hers. “Start counting, Vincent.”

Chapter Text

“Tonight was really your first time playing pool?”

For a moment, she thought that Jacob had finally caught onto her ruse. But when she looked up at the man, there was no uncertainty to be found in the wide eyes staring back at her. “Yep. Never played before.”

“Wow,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it.”

He really shouldn’t have believed it. First-time pool players didn’t just come out shooting combos every other round. “Shouldn’t have bet that whoever loses pays for drinks, then,” she said instead. “You know I’ll do anything to skip a check.”

“If this is your way of telling me I’m paying for dinner tomorrow, I appreciate the warning. That’s still on, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s still on.” Somehow, Barbara had managed to wrangle together their ragtag group for dinner tomorrow. It would be their first reunion since summer vacation started, which she and Jacob had currently spent every day of together. Barbara had been too busy with Taylor and Gina visiting to make visits of her own, while Janine and Gregory were clearly getting busy with each other, something Jacob’s stammering and on-the-fly lies only confirmed. Maybe she couldn’t needle any gossip out of him, but at least she knew for future reference that Jacob could stitch together an alibi. “Another game to see who pays for that?”

“I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead. Actually, I lost the game, so I guess I’m quitting while I’m behind. But I’d rather not fall more behind, so…” Jacob cleared his throat at the sight of Melissa’s unimpressed face. “I’m going to go pay out the tab.”

She took her time resetting the table, but even once she stepped back from the billiards balls she had perfectly arranged into their starting triangle, Jacob was still nowhere to be seen. Handing off her pool stick to the next group, Melissa trekked over to the bar, just spotting Jacob behind the broad shoulders boxing him in.

The man had one hand on Jacob’s arm, the other signing off on a tab, which Jacob’s small grin told her was theirs. Either he had flirted his way out of paying for their drinks, or he was somehow oblivious to the man’s interest that he was unwittingly taking advantage of. Maybe the first one. Probably the second one.

Just before she reached the two, the broad-shouldered man glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. He turned back to Jacob almost immediately, but Melissa froze in her tracks, her hands curling into fists.

Michael Bianchi.

Or rather, his son, Renzo. She still remembered him as the DS-toting kid Michael had dragged around at her nonna’s service close to two decades ago. He had looked up only to tell her that his nonna had a better stuffed shell recipe than hers, then asked which nonna of hers had died, then turned right back to his game of Mario Kart. When the console was later found stomped to bits, Melissa feigned shock with the rest of the attendants.

She hadn’t seen either of the Bianchis since, but she had heard more than enough stories of the now-adult Renzo stepping into his father’s shoes. His large, muddy shoes, that had tracked more dirt over her nonna’s house that had been piled atop of her grave.

“What’s going on here?”

Renzo turned around again, his eyes finally catching onto Melissa. “You here with your sister?”

So he thought he could play the family card to get what he wanted from Jacob. If only he knew how late to the story he was. “His mother. Can’t you tell by the eyes?” She threw an arm around Jacob’s shoulders, her manicured nails digging into his shirt. “Melissa Schemmenti. And you are?”

Renzo’s smile slipped from his face. “You’re a Schemmenti?” he asked Jacob.

Jacob’s mouth fell open in protest, freezing when he saw Melissa’s face. She wasn’t sure what he saw in it. Her creased forehead, maybe, or her mouth pressed into a firm line. But whatever he saw, it had him taking a careful step back, pulling his arm free from Renzo’s hold. “Born and raised,” he said. “Who are you?”

Renzo scoffed, shoving the tab back towards Jacob. “I need to go.”

Jacob watched with a frown as Renzo stalked off, although it lessened when he picked up the tab. “Free drinks, at least. Does this mean dinner’s on me tomorrow?”

“If you insist.”

“I don’t insist.”

“If I insist, then.”

She stumbled as they made their exit, steadying herself with a hold on Jacob’s arm. When she let go, he wrapped it around her waist, guiding her through the first of six blocks that separated them from home. She knew Jacob’s love language was words of affirmation- a fact he had affirmed her of many times- but she couldn’t deny that the silence she could steal away from him was her favorite. She had admitted it once to Barbara, who merely apologized to Melissa, since Jacob rarely ever stops talking. Melissa hadn’t been sure how to tell her that it wasn’t rare at all when he was with her.

“Mind if I ask why you told him you’re my mom?”

She snaked her own arm around Jacob, resting her head on his shoulder. “He’s a Bianchi.”

“So?”

“So, we don’t get involved with the Bianchis. That entire family’s bad news. All the Schemmentis know to stay away from them.”

“So, your family hates the Marinos-”

“My ex-husband’s a Marino.”

“-the Russos-”

“They stole my zia’s minestrone recipe!”

“-and the Bianchis? Did I miss anyone? The Montagues and the Capulets, maybe?”

“Ah, come on. Renzo ain’t no Romeo, and you ain’t no Juliet. He’s like… like… are there any characters in the play that aren’t a Montague or Capulet?”

“Friar Laurence. He marries Romeo and Juliet. Not that he marries them. He marries the two to each other.” The hand on her waist slipped away. “You know, you don’t have to worry about the guys I see. It’s not like I can taint your bloodline.”

“What, because you’re not sure if you want to have kids? Getting married counts just as much-”

“Melissa, I can’t taint the bloodline because I’m not your son.”

Melissa froze, but Jacob only stopped when her arm slipped off of him. The two were only separated by a few feet, but there was no denying that they had long strayed from the path their ruse had set them down on, a path that Melissa had no idea how to lead them back to. “I know that,” she finally said. “Keep the cover, man, someone might hear us out here.”

It was just her luck that there were no pedestrians on the sidewalk, no cars driving up and down the road. There was no one to hear them, and they both knew it.

“Okay, Melissa,” Jacob said quietly. His hands wrung together, twisting at the friendship bracelet a student had given him on the last day of school. “Do you think he’s going to tell his family about me?”

“Probably.” She’d already been fielding calls from many a Schemmenti about it ever since the block party. Kristen Marie had asked if Melissa had adopted the so-called nervous wreck as part of an insurance scheme, then if she could somehow get in on it, too.

“Sorry about that.”

“Why would you be sorry? It’s my fault for telling him you’re my kid.”

“Because…” Jacob’s eyes had dropped down to the sidewalk, his foot tracing along a crack in the concrete. “Because being my parent isn’t exactly a title that most people clamor for.”

Jacob had never told her anything of his family, other than them having a lot of fighting, a lot of dysfunction during Christmas. She at least knew that he had a younger brother, Caleb, still living in Albany. But he had never told her anything about his parents. No, any mention of them had Jacob running, like how he had run from Albany to Oberlin to Teachers Without Borders to Philly, like how he was briskly walking away from her now. 

Maybe, just maybe, she did know how to lead them back to their original path, restrained to discounts and the occasional poker game and an unspoken agreement to never speak of it. Maybe, she knew that Jacob knew the way back, too, that if she let him go now, that was where he would lead them. Maybe, she wanted to keep on taking the unforged path they had let themselves wander down.

“Jacob.”

He paused, but he didn’t turn around. Not until her hand curled around his shoulder, pulling him back towards her. Slowly, she let her hand trace down his arm, letting it fall into the hand that she took in hers and squeezed.

“I don’t mind it,” she said. “I don’t mind if people think you’re my kid.”

There was a glaze in Jacob’s eyes when he looked up at her. Melissa wished she could convince herself that it was from the moon’s reflection.

“I don’t mind it either,” he whispered. Limply, the hand in hers squeezed back.

Chapter Text

“For a minute, I was worried that I was having a heart attack! But it turns out that’s just what I sound like when I’m really out of breath.”

“Yeah, that’s concerning.” Based on the wide eyes Gregory was currently sending Janine’s way, he agreed with Melissa. “What’s it going to take for you to finally check your lungs?” she asked her.

“I thought you hate doctors,” Janine said.

“At least she doesn’t huff and puff like she’s about to blow the house down every time she walks for more than thirty seconds.” Ava’s eyes peeked over the oversized menu she and Mr. Johnson were currently perusing. “What’s taking Barb so long, Melissa?”

Barbara was only five minutes late to Gugino’s. But that was five minutes later than she usually was. “She and Gerald went to the Magic Gardens for Father’s Day. Maybe they got held up.”

“Oh, a walk through the Magic Gardens sounds so romantic! Gregory, don’t you think that would be so romantic? Um, or anyone. Anyone can answer that question. Jacob, doesn’t a walk through the garden sound romantic?”

“Yes!” Melissa couldn’t tell if his enthusiasm came from a genuine place or the duty to cover for the newfound couple. Probably both. “You and Gregory- and me! Should go sometime.”

“Absolutely,” Gregory said. “Janine, Jacob, and me. Just three friends, hanging out. At the romantic gardens. Platonically. All three of us. And anyone else who’d like to join.”

Janine and Jacob’s proud smiles told Melissa they thought they had everyone at the table fooled. Ava’s eye roll told her that they hadn’t. “Good job,” Melissa murmured to Jacob. “You three should’ve topped off the performance by high fiving each other.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Jacob glanced back up from the menu, flashing a bright smile to the not-so-secret couple he and Melissa were sat across. “Have you two looked at the menu yet?”

“No need,” Gregory said. “Already looked at it online.”

“Why would you do that?” Melissa asked. “Half the fun of going to a restaurant for the first time is looking through the menu.”

“Oh, everyone our age does it,” Janine said. “It’s just a… generational, thing.”

“If you’re implying what I think you’re implying by calling me generational-”

“Good afternoon!” The ring of Barbara’s voice had everyone jumping out of their seats, but of course, Janine forced her way to the front of the hugging line. “Sorry we’re late. Got caught in a little bit of traffic as we were leaving. We ran here as soon as we could.”

“Oh! Funny that should happen to you, because I was running out for some errands this morning…”

As Barbara listened to Janine’s story with a polite smile that progressively slipped away, Gerald made his round of hellos around the table. “Happy Father’s Day, Ger-Bear,” Melissa said, now trapped in a hug as tight as the animal he was nicknamed after.

“Thanks, Mel.” Gerald sat, leaving an empty space in between him and Melissa that his wife was sure to occupy. “Think I walked off about half my body weight today with Barbara. Ready to put it all back on, though.”

“Hey, you’re excited about dinner? I never would’ve taken you for a foodie.”

Gerald guffawed at that, accepting the menu that Melissa passed down to him. “It’s impossible to not be excited for a night at Gugino’s. They’ve got the best pesto pasta in the city- after yours, of course,” Gerald was quick to add. “And the discount certainly doesn’t hurt.”

That had Melissa shooting her head up faster than Pavlov’s dogs at the sound of a bell- an analogy she had once told Jacob, only for him to ruin it by detailing how poorly Pavlov had treated the dogs involved in his experiments. “Discount?”

“You didn’t know? Gugino’s offers a deal every Father’s Day. Buy one entree, get another one priced at $25 or less for free.” Gerald tapped the front of his menu now, revealing the advertised discount that Melissa had somehow missed.

“I see.” It was already generous enough for the restaurant to offer a Father’s Day deal, since most didn’t. Melissa wondered just how far their generosity would go. “Jacob,” she said, turning to her roommate. “What are you thinking of ordering?”

“Good question,” Jacob drawled. “I was thinking of getting a plate of spaghetti, but we just had it for dinner last night, and what’s the point of paying for a meal that I know you can make better? Not that I’m entitled to your cooking, of course. But as you can imagine, finding a plate of food without spaghetti at an Italian restaurant is easier said than done. I would order one of their pizzas, but-”

“Jacob.”

Now he was the one snapping his head at her like one of Pavlov’s poor dogs. “I’m thinking of getting the almond chicken.”

Melissa glanced over Jacob’s shoulder, scanning the menu until she found his meal of choice. $24.99. “Hey,” she said, nudging her shoulder with his. “You see the Father’s Day deal they’re offering today?”

The shoulder against hers stiffened. “No.”

“It’s a good deal. Get an entree-”

“No!” Jacob’s menu found a new home over their faces, blocking him and Melissa from sight. “Melissa, no!”

“Come on! We do it all the time!”

“Not when we’re out with all of our friends!” he hissed.

“Oh, come on, that’s not true. These guys aren’t all of our friends. All of your friends, maybe.”

“Melissa!”

“What’s the big deal? Didn’t we just say yesterday that we were both fine it?”

“Any other day- any other day! Another other day, Melissa, I’ll go along, but not here, not with them, not on-”

“Happy Father’s Day!” Their waitress made her appearance, a pen and notepad in hand. “We ready to order? No?”

Jacob’s vicious head shake was directed towards Melissa, but she wouldn’t let it stop her. The way she saw it, it was basically Jacob’s fault that they were in this situation. Should’ve insisted last night on paying for her dinner if he wanted to avoid this. “I saw that you have a Father’s Day deal here.” The soft sole of Jacob’s sneaker lightly kicked against her calf. Her heeled toe kicked back much harder. “Any chance you’ll pass it along to moms, too?”

“I’ll check with my managers. Anything I can get before then?”

“Just a bottle of water for the table, please. My son’s been out in the sun all day. Important to keep him hydrated.”

Melissa kept her gaze firmly trained on the waitress, only looking back at the table when she disappeared from sight. Meanwhile, Jacob’s face had found a new home in the menu that everyone’s eyes were currently burning holes into. “Melissa,” Barbara said, her eyebrows higher than Gerald’s blood pressure. “Is there something you and Jacob would like to tell us?”

“Oh, Jacob would love to tell you.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

Her second kick to his leg had Jacob darting back up in the seat he was sliding down. “What?” Melissa said. “You embarrassed to be seen with your mother in public?”

“Melissa!”

“Wow, calling your mother by her first name?” Ava said, crossing her arms. “This generation has no shame.”

“Yeah, Jacob, show your mother some respect!” Mr. Johnson said.

Jacob finally peeked out over the menu, if only to shoot a glare in Melissa’s direction. When it was clear all she would be offering was her own glare back, he sighed, setting his menu down and revealing his flushed face to the world. “Sometimes, Melissa and I take advantage of our… relative physical similarities, and-”

“Sometimes we pretend we’re related.”

Unsurprisingly- and unfortunately- the group only continued to stare at them. Melissa shot a look at Barbara, but even her best friend had nothing to offer other than her wide eyes and gaped mouth. “Okay,” Gregory said slowly. “Why?”

“Family discounts, usually. Got him to play a game of poker for me two weeks ago, though.”

“Why would Jacob need to pretend to be related to you to play poker?” Janine asked.

“Eh, you just had to be there.”

“Hey, I’m not judging.” Based on the glint in Ava’s eye, she was planning on doing something even more drastic. Teasing. “So, when you and Jacob are roleplaying as mother and son, what does he call you? Mom? Mama? Momm-”

“Mom!” Jacob’s face flushed red anew. “I… I call her Mom,” he mumbled.

“Relax, Jacob, I get it. I’ve called women Mommy to get money from them, too.”

“Ava!” Janine exclaimed.

“If you want to get that discount, it’s Mom to you.”

“Hey, that’s unfair! Now who’s going to adopt me?”

“I mean, if it’s for a discount, you can fake-adopt me, Mr. Johnson,” Gregory said.

“Please,” Mr. Johnson scoffed. “You think anyone would look at me and think I’m old enough to be your dad?”

“Why not? People believe that Melissa and Jacob are related, don’t they?”

“Nah, I can see it,” Ava said. “All white people look alike to me, but the eyes help.”

“And the hair!” Janine added. “When Jacob grew out his beard over spring break, it looked really red.”

“Don’t you mean when Jacob and I both grew out our beards?”

“Aw, Gregory…” Janine said with a closed-lip smile, patting Gregory on the shoulder. “No.”

“Here’s that water.” The waitress set the bottle in the middle of the table, but no one moved to grab it. “The manager said that he’ll pass off the discount to you. Will that be going toward you or your son’s meal?”

Jacob’s face was back in his menu, and Melissa knew it wasn’t because he was looking for what to eat. “His meal,” she finally said. “He’s ordering the almond chicken.”

Barbara was still in the bathroom by the time Melissa stepped out of her stall, currently in the midst of reapplying her eyeliner. Melissa grabbed the sink next to her, offering her a light hip bump. “You and Gerald going out somewhere else after this?”

“Just heading on home. But it’s especially important for me to look good for our last activity of the night, if you get my meaning.” Barbara gave her a wink through the mirror. “So. When did this… scheme, between you and Jacob start?”

“Not too long. First time we did it was Mother’s Day.”

“And it didn’t cross your mind once in that month to tell me?”

“I can’t say that,” Melissa admitted. “But it’s not like it’s serious. If you want to give it a try, I’m sure you and Janine could weasel your way into some family discounts. Even if they don’t think she’s your child, they’ll definitely think that she’s a child.”

Melissa wanted Barbara to laugh, or agree, or say that Janine had finally gotten enough of a hold on her makeup and clothes to make up for her lack of stature. She didn’t want Barbara to offer her her signature hmph and turn back to the mirror. “Is this really the same Melissa who nearly tore off her Uncle Archie’s head last Christmas when he got mixed up and thought her niece was her daughter?”

“It’s just for the discounts, Barb.”

“And a poker game?”

“And a poker game.”

“Nothing else?”

It would’ve been so easy to lie. Or rather, it would’ve been easier. But lying meant pushing through the memory of last night that had lingered longer than her hangover, the memory of her telling Jacob she didn’t mind if people thought he was her kid, the memory of him saying it back. Maybe if Jacob had been the one to say it first, she would’ve been able to go through with it. But it had been Melissa to say it first, and now Barbara- now, even her own mind- wouldn’t let her get away with insisting that it was nothing serious anymore.

“Come on,” Melissa finally said. “Don’t want to keep Gerald waiting.”

The table was in the midst of boxing up their leftovers by the time Barbara and Melissa found their way back. Jacob put down his box for all of one second to grab his phone, a second that Ava used to snatch the box away from him. She passed it back just as Melissa reached the table, recapping the Sharpie she had attacked it with. Mr. Schemmenti was written in large bold letters, underlined for extra measure. “Very funny, Ava,” Jacob said.

“I can’t believe you two have been doing this for months and that I only heard about it now.” Ava dropped her chin into her hands, grinning at the pair of teachers across from her. “Now I’ll need to update your ID. Or do I change Melissa’s ID? Melissa Hill or Jacob Schemmenti… Which one do you think has a better ring to it, Melissa?”

“Neither of them. They both have equal rings.”

“Just because Melissa’s your mother doesn’t mean you get to speak for her, Jacob!” Of course, the accusation of taking away a woman’s right to speak had Jacob clamping his mouth shut and dropping his head down. “Well, Mel?”

Truly? She preferred the ring of Jacob Schemmenti. But as Melissa Schemmenti, she knew that sometimes, the best thing you could do for your family was lie for them. “They both sound fine to me,” Melissa said.

“What am I supposed to do, switch both of your last names? That won’t work at all.”

“Oh, I know! Why don’t you give them both a new last name?”

“Janine, no!” Jacob exclaimed.

“Janine, yes! Finally, the first good idea you’ve had since I hired you.”

“On that note,” Gregory said, rising from his seat. “I will be heading out. Janine, you coming?”

“You know it!” Janine stood up, her and Gregory’s identical smiles fading in tandem. “Gregory, is, um, walking me to my car. And then he’s walking to his car. Because we drove separately. And then we will be spending the night… apart.”

“Why are they pretending to not be dating again?” Melissa whispered to Jacob.

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

They may have been teachers, but the three of them desperately needed acting classes. At least Melissa knew what to get them all for their birthdays this year.

In the end, Jacob ended up walking both Janine and Gregory back to their car- car, singular- waiting for them to disappear from the parking lot before making his way back to the huddle that Melissa, Barbara, and Gerald had formed outside the restaurant. “Did you have a good Father’s Day?” he asked Gerald.

“The best.” Gerald clapped Jacob on the shoulder, his smile a touch wider than usual. “Have a good night, Mr. Schemmenti.”

Melissa didn’t know what the line that Barbara had pressed her lips into meant, but it certainly didn’t mean she was holding back her laughter. “Goodnight, you two,” she said simply.

“Goodnight,” Melissa and Jacob said in unison. Only when the married couple got into their car did Jacob dare to turn back to Melissa. “Should we have seen that coming?” he asked her.

“Nah.” Yeah.

When she rolled her shoulders, he took their leftovers back from her- he had insisted that she didn’t put them in a bag to cut back on their use of plastics, never mind their takeout boxes being made out of equally unreusable material. “You know,” he said, “I don’t think I mind them all knowing what we’re up to.”

She knew she didn’t hate Jacob. Hell, catch her on a good day, she might’ve even admitted that she loved him. But she wasn’t sure what else could cause this almost playful sense of aggression within her, wanting to squeeze him tight without hurting him, but without letting go, either. She found that she didn't care much to know the answer. “Me neither.”

Jacob offered her a smile- a full smile, finally, not the tight lipped ones she had been getting since yesterday. “Janine and Gregory are having a one hundred percent platonic drinking session at Rubensteins,” he said. “Want to crash?”

“Let's go,” she said, shrugging her keys out of her pocket. “Drinks are on you, though, Mr. Schemmenti.”