“Nonsense. I insist,” Mom fires back.
Mike looks at me and I shrug. He might as well give in because she won’t give up. She’s persistent like that. Mom tells us that we’re taking her car, a Toyota Camry. Hand in hand, Mike and I follow them outside. He stops at the rear door and opens it for me. Once I’m settled, he climbs into the front passenger seat. “You got enough room, James?” he asks, turning in his seat to face me.
Dad turns to look at him with his mouth gaping open, and Mom lets a tiny squeal fall from her lips.
“I’m good, thanks.”
He nods and turns back to face the front, fastening his seat belt, all the while not realizing he’s had my parents’ full attention. Mike doesn’t realize that I don’t tell people my real name is James and not Jamie. Whitney knows, my family, and that’s about it. However, that night there was something about him, about my time with him, that had me wanting to tell him the truth. I used to hate having a boy name, but now when it rolls off his lips, I don’t hate it. Not at all. I like it when he calls me James. Without even realizing it, he just told my parents what he means to me.
“So your sister, she, uh… she runs the bar with you?” Dad asks once we’re on the road.
“Kind of. When I took over, it was always the intention of Olivia and I doing it together. Equal partners and all that. She’s a couple years younger than me, and at the time she didn’t want the responsibility. She was fine tending bar. She doesn’t care for the HR aspect, hiring, firing, and all the discipline stuff.” He laughs. “I’m not exactly a fan either, but it’s a necessary evil. Lucky for me, I have a great staff.”
“So she’s more involved now?” Mom asks.
“She is. I’ve been showing her the books and she’s taking on a larger role from that aspect.”
“So, Mom, how are Aunt Betty and Uncle Bob?” I ask. That sends both her and my father off on a tangent, talking about how they had to buy another boat they never use. They swear they’re going to put it out on the Lake, but they never do. Dad claims bragging rights, Mom claims flashy. Either way I don’t really care; I’m just glad the heat is off of Mike. His parents didn’t grill me like this. Then again, that’s my parents for you. I’m an only child, born later in their marriage due to trouble conceiving. They’re always going to be protective of me. I just hope it doesn’t scare him off before we figure out what this is. Before we can give it a fighting chance.
“I’m exhausted.” I plop down on the couch seven hours later. Turns out Mom really loves the zoo. We walked the entire place at least twice.
“I thought you said they were slowing down?” Mike asks, taking a seat next to me. Reaching for my leg, he pulls my feet up into his lap and takes off my shoes, then begins to massage my sore feet.
“Oh my God, that feels so good.”
He chuckles. “Your parents are nice.”
“Nice? Really, Michael? They grilled you all through lunch and on the way there. I had to bring up Aunt Betty and Uncle Bob to distract them.”
“It didn’t bother me. If I had a daughter, I would do the same thing.”
“You want kids?” I blurt out without thinking.
“Yeah, I do. What about you?”
I nod. “Yeah, you know, two kids, dog, white picket fence.”
“What kind of dog?”
“I don’t know really. I’ve never had one. As you see, my parents yard isn’t all that big, and Mom refused to have a house dog. Now that I think about it, I’ve never had a pet.”
“Never?”
“Nope. My apartment doesn’t allow them.”
“So a dog is what you would want?”
“Yeah, one day. I like the idea of having a family dog. Anyway, I’m exhausted. I have to be up at six for work, so we better get to bed.” He stands and has me in his arms before I realize what’s going on. “I can walk,” I tell him, not even attempting to break out of his fireman hold.
“I know you can, but I like you better like this.” He carries me to my room and sits me down on the bed. “I’ll be right back,” he says, kissing me quickly. I hear him walking through my apartment and I know he’s checking the door and turning off the lights.
I decide to go ahead and get changed, just crawling under the covers when he comes back into the room. I watch in the moonlight as he strips down and walks to what I now think of as his side of the bed and climbs under the covers. He reaches out for me and I go willingly.
“Sweet dreams, beautiful.”
I blush. I know he’s just being Mike, but it makes me think of my dream about him that became all too real. I hold him a little tighter.
Neither of us says a word. We don’t discuss the fact that he’s leaving in the morning, we don’t talk about what this weekend was. What it means. No, we bask in the feel of being in each other’s arms.