“I promise to keep it under control. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
“Just … don’t ask him any personal questions, especially about the past. Don’t thank him for his service, and definitely don’t ask him if he’s ever killed anyone.”
“Well, there goes my usual conversation starter …” she remarked under her breath.
“Emme, I’m serious. People ask him that, and he doesn’t like it.”
“Relax, honey.” She reached over and put a hand on my arm. “It’s going to be fine. Grams and I are going to be on our best behavior, and if at any point in the night you can’t take it anymore, say the word and we shall away in my white Honda, no questions asked.”
“What’s the word?”
She thought for a second. “Buzz,” she decided.
I almost laughed. “Deal. I’m glad you’re here, Em.”
“Me too. And if things go the other way, and you need me to distract Grams so you and Ryan can escape, do this.” She mimed shoving a dick in her mouth.
I burst out laughing, feeling better. Thank goodness for sisters. “Sounds like a plan. Hey, want to grab a cup of coffee and go over the seating chart?”
She gave me the side eye. “Are you trying to get out of shopping?”
“Kind of.”
“Tough,” she said, pulling into a parking space along the main drag. “Because we’re going to do both.”
When he knocked on the door, I was lighting the candles on the table and Grams was pulling the meatloaf from the oven. Emme was still upstairs getting ready. “Could you get that, dear?” my grandmother called.
“Yes!” I answered.
I forced myself to relax as I walked toward the door in my new dress, which was navy blue and ivory striped with short sleeves, a rounded neckline, and something Emme had called an envelope skirt. I wasn’t sure the horizontal stripes flattered my chest, and the hemline was a bit short on me, but Emme assured me that it would look adorable with my pink flats. Still, I fought the urge to bolt up the stairs and change into something more loose-fitting and covered-up.
When I reached the door, I touched my hair, which Emme had coaxed into waves with a fat curling iron, and took a breath. Then I opened it up.
“Hi,” I said, unable to keep the smile off my face. My heart went crazy at the sight of him.
He wore jeans and the boots from last night, and a fitted midnight blue henley that set off his skin tone perfectly. The white T-shirt he wore underneath was crisp and clean. His hair was still a little damp, and he had a cowlick I hadn’t noticed before on one side.
He was carrying flowers.
“Hi. These are for you,” he said, holding out a bouquet of blossoms I couldn’t name in gorgeous fall colors—gold and scarlet and ivory surrounded by deep emerald green.
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” I took them from him and stepped back. “Come on in.”
It seemed funny to me that we were acting so formal given that the last time he saw me, I’d been sleeping naked between his sheets.
“Is that our dinner guest?” Grams came toddling out from the kitchen in her apron as we entered the dining room. I noticed she’d dimmed the lights. “Hello there, Ryan! So nice to see you.”
“Hello.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and then quickly pulled them out again, like he suddenly remembered his manners.
“Ryan brought us some flowers, Grams.” I showed off the bouquet. “Do you have a vase so I can add them to our table?”
“Of course I do. What kind of ninety-year-old lady doesn’t have at least twenty vases tucked around the house?”
Just then, Emme came strolling into the room. “Hi,” she said with a big smile. “You must be Ryan.”
Ryan looked back and forth from Emme to me a few times, clearly taking in the resemblance. “Sisters?”
“Emme,” she said as she held out her hand. Even in her heels, she was a couple inches shorter than me and way shorter than Ryan. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hello.” Ryan shook her hand.
“Oh, doesn’t he look handsome in that blue shirt,” Grams said, elbowing me. “Why, it matches your eyes, Stella! Look, Emme. Doesn’t his shirt match her eyes?”
Ryan looked at the three of us lined up and then over his shoulder toward the front door, like he might make a dash for it.
I gave my sister a silent plea for help with my eyes.
“Grams, why don’t you and I finish things up in the kitchen?” my sister asked, taking her by the arm and leading her away. “Stella, can I find a vase for those flowers?”
I sent her a grateful look. “Yes. I’ll bring them to you in a minute. Ryan, can I get you something to drink? A beer? Cocktail?”
He seemed relieved. “A beer would be perfect.”
“Coming right up.” I gave him a smile before disappearing through the swinging door into the kitchen. Usually, it was propped open, but I was glad for the privacy tonight because Grams started in on me right away.
“We’ll take care of the flowers, you get his beer and hurry back out there so he’s not bored.”
“Don’t just bring him the bottle, pour it into a glass.”
“Good heavens, Stella, didn’t you even put on lipstick?”
“Leave her be, Grams.” Emme gave me a reassuring smile. “She looks perfect.” He’s fucking hot, she mouthed to me, fanning herself and then miming the blow job again while Grams was busy at the fridge.
I smothered a laugh.
Grams was relentless. “Now when you take it in there, sit close to him and make sure to cross your legs in his direction. Make eye contact, and laugh heartily at all his jokes, even the ones you’ve heard before.”
“Grams, she’s got this,” said Emme.
“I’m just not sure she does,” Grams fretted. “She thinks they’re friends.”
I rolled my eyes, and despite her admonitions, carried two beer bottles out to the living room. Sinatra crooned softly from the old speakers, and Ryan, who’d been sitting on the couch, stood when I entered the room.
“Here you go.” I handed him one of the bottles.
“Thanks.” He waited for me to sit and then lowered himself stiffly to the edge of the couch.
I slipped off my shoes, tucked my legs underneath me and tipped up the bottle. I was usually a wine drinker, but tonight the crisp, cold beer tasted good. “How was work today?”
“Fine.” He drank too, and then we sat in silence. No eye contact, as if we’d gone backward in time.
The therapist in me couldn’t take it. “Something on your mind?”
He slid one palm down the leg of his jeans. “I guess I’m nervous.”
“Why?”
“I thought I could handle coming over for dinner, but now I’m not sure. Once I was standing there facing the three of you, I started to freak out a little.”
I smiled. “I’m sorry about the obvious way Grams keeps trying to shove us together. I have told her repeatedly we’re friends and nothing more.” Part of me hoped he’d argue, but he didn’t.
“It’s okay.” He focused his attention on the bottle between his knees. “Maybe I’m just worried I’ll say the wrong things. Or that I’ll have nothing to say.”
“You did fine with me last night.”
“That was different. I’m … I’m comfortable talking with you.” He met my eyes. “I don’t even know why. I’m never comfortable with anyone.”
My cheeks warmed. “Must be the therapist thing.”
“I don’t think so.”
A few intense thumps of my heart later, he lifted his beer to his lips, and I did the same.
“You look beautiful,” he said a moment later. “I like your dress.”
“Thank you. Emme and I went shopping this afternoon.”
“Did you have a good day?”
“Pretty good.”
He glanced at the kitchen door, then back at me. Lowered his voice. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today.”
“Just … don’t ask him any personal questions, especially about the past. Don’t thank him for his service, and definitely don’t ask him if he’s ever killed anyone.”
“Well, there goes my usual conversation starter …” she remarked under her breath.
“Emme, I’m serious. People ask him that, and he doesn’t like it.”
“Relax, honey.” She reached over and put a hand on my arm. “It’s going to be fine. Grams and I are going to be on our best behavior, and if at any point in the night you can’t take it anymore, say the word and we shall away in my white Honda, no questions asked.”
“What’s the word?”
She thought for a second. “Buzz,” she decided.
I almost laughed. “Deal. I’m glad you’re here, Em.”
“Me too. And if things go the other way, and you need me to distract Grams so you and Ryan can escape, do this.” She mimed shoving a dick in her mouth.
I burst out laughing, feeling better. Thank goodness for sisters. “Sounds like a plan. Hey, want to grab a cup of coffee and go over the seating chart?”
She gave me the side eye. “Are you trying to get out of shopping?”
“Kind of.”
“Tough,” she said, pulling into a parking space along the main drag. “Because we’re going to do both.”
When he knocked on the door, I was lighting the candles on the table and Grams was pulling the meatloaf from the oven. Emme was still upstairs getting ready. “Could you get that, dear?” my grandmother called.
“Yes!” I answered.
I forced myself to relax as I walked toward the door in my new dress, which was navy blue and ivory striped with short sleeves, a rounded neckline, and something Emme had called an envelope skirt. I wasn’t sure the horizontal stripes flattered my chest, and the hemline was a bit short on me, but Emme assured me that it would look adorable with my pink flats. Still, I fought the urge to bolt up the stairs and change into something more loose-fitting and covered-up.
When I reached the door, I touched my hair, which Emme had coaxed into waves with a fat curling iron, and took a breath. Then I opened it up.
“Hi,” I said, unable to keep the smile off my face. My heart went crazy at the sight of him.
He wore jeans and the boots from last night, and a fitted midnight blue henley that set off his skin tone perfectly. The white T-shirt he wore underneath was crisp and clean. His hair was still a little damp, and he had a cowlick I hadn’t noticed before on one side.
He was carrying flowers.
“Hi. These are for you,” he said, holding out a bouquet of blossoms I couldn’t name in gorgeous fall colors—gold and scarlet and ivory surrounded by deep emerald green.
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” I took them from him and stepped back. “Come on in.”
It seemed funny to me that we were acting so formal given that the last time he saw me, I’d been sleeping naked between his sheets.
“Is that our dinner guest?” Grams came toddling out from the kitchen in her apron as we entered the dining room. I noticed she’d dimmed the lights. “Hello there, Ryan! So nice to see you.”
“Hello.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and then quickly pulled them out again, like he suddenly remembered his manners.
“Ryan brought us some flowers, Grams.” I showed off the bouquet. “Do you have a vase so I can add them to our table?”
“Of course I do. What kind of ninety-year-old lady doesn’t have at least twenty vases tucked around the house?”
Just then, Emme came strolling into the room. “Hi,” she said with a big smile. “You must be Ryan.”
Ryan looked back and forth from Emme to me a few times, clearly taking in the resemblance. “Sisters?”
“Emme,” she said as she held out her hand. Even in her heels, she was a couple inches shorter than me and way shorter than Ryan. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hello.” Ryan shook her hand.
“Oh, doesn’t he look handsome in that blue shirt,” Grams said, elbowing me. “Why, it matches your eyes, Stella! Look, Emme. Doesn’t his shirt match her eyes?”
Ryan looked at the three of us lined up and then over his shoulder toward the front door, like he might make a dash for it.
I gave my sister a silent plea for help with my eyes.
“Grams, why don’t you and I finish things up in the kitchen?” my sister asked, taking her by the arm and leading her away. “Stella, can I find a vase for those flowers?”
I sent her a grateful look. “Yes. I’ll bring them to you in a minute. Ryan, can I get you something to drink? A beer? Cocktail?”
He seemed relieved. “A beer would be perfect.”
“Coming right up.” I gave him a smile before disappearing through the swinging door into the kitchen. Usually, it was propped open, but I was glad for the privacy tonight because Grams started in on me right away.
“We’ll take care of the flowers, you get his beer and hurry back out there so he’s not bored.”
“Don’t just bring him the bottle, pour it into a glass.”
“Good heavens, Stella, didn’t you even put on lipstick?”
“Leave her be, Grams.” Emme gave me a reassuring smile. “She looks perfect.” He’s fucking hot, she mouthed to me, fanning herself and then miming the blow job again while Grams was busy at the fridge.
I smothered a laugh.
Grams was relentless. “Now when you take it in there, sit close to him and make sure to cross your legs in his direction. Make eye contact, and laugh heartily at all his jokes, even the ones you’ve heard before.”
“Grams, she’s got this,” said Emme.
“I’m just not sure she does,” Grams fretted. “She thinks they’re friends.”
I rolled my eyes, and despite her admonitions, carried two beer bottles out to the living room. Sinatra crooned softly from the old speakers, and Ryan, who’d been sitting on the couch, stood when I entered the room.
“Here you go.” I handed him one of the bottles.
“Thanks.” He waited for me to sit and then lowered himself stiffly to the edge of the couch.
I slipped off my shoes, tucked my legs underneath me and tipped up the bottle. I was usually a wine drinker, but tonight the crisp, cold beer tasted good. “How was work today?”
“Fine.” He drank too, and then we sat in silence. No eye contact, as if we’d gone backward in time.
The therapist in me couldn’t take it. “Something on your mind?”
He slid one palm down the leg of his jeans. “I guess I’m nervous.”
“Why?”
“I thought I could handle coming over for dinner, but now I’m not sure. Once I was standing there facing the three of you, I started to freak out a little.”
I smiled. “I’m sorry about the obvious way Grams keeps trying to shove us together. I have told her repeatedly we’re friends and nothing more.” Part of me hoped he’d argue, but he didn’t.
“It’s okay.” He focused his attention on the bottle between his knees. “Maybe I’m just worried I’ll say the wrong things. Or that I’ll have nothing to say.”
“You did fine with me last night.”
“That was different. I’m … I’m comfortable talking with you.” He met my eyes. “I don’t even know why. I’m never comfortable with anyone.”
My cheeks warmed. “Must be the therapist thing.”
“I don’t think so.”
A few intense thumps of my heart later, he lifted his beer to his lips, and I did the same.
“You look beautiful,” he said a moment later. “I like your dress.”
“Thank you. Emme and I went shopping this afternoon.”
“Did you have a good day?”
“Pretty good.”
He glanced at the kitchen door, then back at me. Lowered his voice. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today.”
