I laugh. My upbringing was far from abusive.
“Are you going to ask me what you wanted to ask me?” she prompts with a smile. I wondered if she was going to notice I hadn’t. I wondered if I was going to actually ask her. It’s a big ask.
I swallow a mouthful of red wine, which doesn’t go a long way to quenching my dry throat.
“My parents are having a dinner,” I announce firmly. “Vivian said I should invite you.”
Talia’s eyebrows lift.
“Not that I wouldn’t have invited you,” I add. “Although, I probably wouldn’t have, but not because of you. I don’t take my coworkers to dinner at my parents’. Usually.” I feel like a nervous seventeen-year-old version of myself, sweating through my tux while standing on the stoop to pick up Jenny Carrington for prom.
“What kind of dinner?”
“Dad founded Owen Construction in February. We always celebrate. Vivian attended last year, and Cristin has come for years with Benji. She’s practically part of the family and has been for a decade.”
Talia brightens. “Cris and Vivian will be there?”
“Yes. They are dying for you to come, according to Viv. Benji told me Cris has an epic girl crush on you. That’s a direct quote.”
“That’s sweet.”
“That’s Cris.” She was like a sister to me for years, and soon, I’m sure she and Benji will get married, and then she will be my sister by law too.
“And you’re sure this is a good idea?” She tilts her head. I don’t know if she’s asking because she recalls me mentioning how I haven’t brought a woman home with me since college, or for some other reason—like maybe we shouldn’t cross the meet-the-parents line.
I decided while she’s here we’re going to enjoy each other. Sure, I had a freak-out a week or so ago—an overreaction. We’ve moved on.
“I want you to come. I can’t keep you sequestered here for another three weeks without you going stir crazy. You need some girl time.”
“Tell me about it. I ruined my one chance at an outing with Vivian by spraining my wrist.” She holds up her perfectly healed arm and wiggles her fingers. At the reminder of her accident, my heart seizes. I know she’s fine, but the terror of what could have happened lingers in my periphery. “Does your mom like wine? I’ll bring a bottle.”
“My mom keeps wineries in business with her massive stash. Just bring yourself.”