Malcolm wiped his hands on his pants, and the two knuckleheads starred at each other, not saying anything for a full minute. It was like I’d walked into an awkward scene in arom-com, the kind of on-screen magic that would make me turn off the movie and try to find something with a little more humor and a lot less pining.
As I tried to find a tactful way to escape the room, my phone rang, offering me an out.
“Oh, I need to grab this.” Neither spared me a glance as I slipped past Malcolm and out of the room.
“Sasha Mitchell.”
“Hi, honey! You sound better!”
“Mom . . . hey.” I’d dodged her all weekend. “I’m almost back to 100%.”
“That’s great.” I heard the car door chime.
“You going somewhere?”
“I’m actually heading back into the house. If you didn’t answer, I was going to drive over to your apartment.”
You decline three calls, and Maggie Mitchell was ready to drive across the city.
“Sorry, I slept through most of the weekend.”
“Did Ashley take good care of you?”
Closing my office door, I slid down into my comfy chair. “She was actually with Malcolm most of the weekend.”
“You should have called. I would’ve been there in a flash.”
I noticed Miranda had refilled my candy bowl. Snatching out a piece of dark chocolate, I tore it open and popped it in my mouth. “Don’t worry about it. Luca stopped by.”
“What a sweetheart! When can I expect to meet him?”
After missing Thanksgiving dinner, I hadn’t thought about rescheduling. If I was honest with myself, which I was trying to be, my brain was stuck on Luca.
“Oh well, Luca and I—”
“How about Thursday? It’s your dad’s last day off before he’s scheduled to be at the station for the weekend.”
My gaze fell onthe reservation confirmation, still on my computer screen. I knew we were both free that night, but we were free for naughty, sexy times, not awkward family time.
Weighing the options of him meeting them this week or over the upcoming, more pressure-filled holidays, I kissed my beautiful night goodbye.
“Sure. That sounds great.”
“Wonderful! Be at the house by 6:30.”
“You gotit.Love you, mom.”
“Love you, Sweetie.”
Setting my phone on the desk, I picked up a pillow and proceeded to smother my face with it. I screamed every obscenity I could think of, including some I’m pretty sure I made up. Out of breath and thoroughly annoyed, I texted Luca our plans for Thursday. He sent back a heart emoji.Fucker.
* * *
The drive to my parents’ was silent. I’d tried to cancel plans three times before we even left my apartment, but every time Luca talked me off the ledge. “If you don’t want me to meet your parents, just say so.”
Luca’s attention was on me, but I didn’t have the guts to look him in the eye. “I don’t want you to meet my parents.”
The robotic voice told us we had arrived,and he pulled into the driveway.The ranch-style house was just as it ever was. Light brick with large front windows, a two-car garage that only my mom parked in because Dad’s workbench and tools took up half the damn thing, and perfectly manicured flowerbeds that laid empty. A perfect middle-class suburban home and the site of my teenage angst.