Read Standing By: A Knight's Tale #2 for Free Online

hours of twelve and two, what is he: the cable man?”
    Parker locks the glass door, starts turning off the front lights, then slowly turns around crossing his arms while giving me the twisted mouth fatherly stare.
    “What?”
    “Look, Hayl, I get that the two of you can’t play nice—”
    “I can, as long as he stops teasing me. My name is Hayley, but he calls me everything but that. How can I take him seriously, Parks?”
    I point at the phone but then I think about it and seems childish to think that he gave me a time frame just to play with me. It’s been three or four years since the last incident when he decided to cross the green line that separates the customers and the service area. He called me a childish control freak that needed to chill out for telling him not to cross the line.
    “I’ll yield and give it a try, Parks. You’re right; a busy man like him can’t give me a precise time. I’m overreacting.”
    “I didn’t say that, but what you say sounds reasonable and mature, Hay-Bear.”
    Such an irony; including the words mature and my childhood nickname, Hay-Bear in the same sentence.
    “You look tan today, tell me the truth.” I point at him. “Are you living on a tropical island?”
    “You’re ridiculous; come on, Hay-Bear. The shop is clean and you need dinner before you have to go to bed in four hours.”
    Baker’s hours , I like to call my schedule.
    “Do we have to?” I whine like a two year old.
    “I’m afraid we do. It’ll be fine.”
    He agreed to have dinner with Dad and our oldest brothers under the condition that they didn’t invite Paige and we eat at four thirty.
    “So tell me what happened today?” he asks while hailing a cab.
    “Mom came to visit me today and she wanted to know the 4-1-1 of the wedding.” Then it occurs to me that he hasn’t answered my earlier question, so I ask it again. “Are you going to the wedding?”
    “Did you accept the honor of being in the bridal party?”
    I shrug.
    “Of course you did, Hayley. You’re too nice to her. She’s my sister and I love her but she’s a bitch with you. You need to put a stop to it before she hurts you more and causes irreparable damage.”
    More? I internally huff, knowing more is close to impossible.
    “I’ll try to go, Hay-Bear.”
    The conversation seizes while the cab drives through the busy streets of New York, heading to Frida & Diego . The twisting pain in my stomach increases as we approach the restaurant, knowing my two other brothers will be there. Another duo who like to bring my imperfections to the table and follow with an entire presentation on how I can overcome said flaws to become a better person. Starting, of course by giving me a recommendation letter to Harvard, Columbia or Yale where I’ll be able to spread my wings and reach my full potential.
    The restaurant is on the main floor of one of those post-World War II buildings. There’s nothing special to it, except when you enter, it’s like you are transported into a different country without needing a passport. The wooden tables and chairs are hand carved with Mexican prehistoric symbols, while the walls are decorated with sombreros, artesian clothing and pictures of landscapes of the country. Soothing music plays on the speakers; classical guitar with a melodic soft male voice emulating what I guess is nostalgia and suffering—I don’t speak Spanish. The hostess takes us to the corner table where Dad’s already sitting next to Benjamin, my oldest sibling. The man is forty-six years old—yes, my mother’s age. He and Brent are Dad’s children from his first marriage, and they treat me more like their niece by lecturing me every second we’re together.
    “Hayley,” Ben stands up and walks to the chair I’m about to sit on, he pulls it out lightly waiting for me to sit down, then kisses the top of my head. “How are you kiddo?”
    “I’m well, thank you,” then I spot the grey and silver plaid tie I gifted him for his