Page 50 of House of Desire

“Just wanted you to know you weren’t dreaming,” she says, her smile beaming.

“Thanks for that.”

“Any time. Are you nervous?”

“Should I be nervous?”

“I dunno,” she shrugs. “You’re going to be grilled. I haven’t brought someone home in longer than I’d like to admit.”

“I can handle anything they throw at me. Don’t worry.”

“Would you like to come in?” She moves to the side and I step into the small entryway. “Are those for me?”

“Um, actually, no. They are for your mother.”

“You’re going to kick Dom out of his spot as the favorite. Come on.” She grabs my hand and leads me through the house.

Just like outside, the inside is exuberant in showcasing the love of the family living within its walls. Pictures overflow the walls with every member in various ages and activities. The walls are various shades and colors, but they all go together instead of making the space feel chaotic.

I lean to look harder at one picture where she’s maybe seven years old and missing her two front teeth. A boy, who I assume is Dom, has his arm slung around her. They are both covered in streaks of mud, grass stains, and are soaking wet.

“This is my favorite,” I say, touching the frame with the tip of my finger. “You both look so happy.”

“I was. It was the first year we had a slip-n-slide and that was the first time we got to use it. I think we slid down that thing a hundred times.”

She grabs my hand, linking our fingers, and pulls me toward the right, through an arch, and down a step into the wide living room.

“Everyone, this is Parker,” she says by way of introduction, dropping my hand so I can move into the room.

The cameras are set up, but this time they are on tripods so as not to impede us in the space.

“Hello, Parker. I’m Gwen. Welcome to our home.”

Gwen’s delivery is slightly stiff and has me fighting down a smile. Anya rolls her eyes and I assume she tried to tell them to act natural. Awkwardness aside, it’s easy to see where Anastasia gets her beauty from. Gwen’s black hair matches her daughter’s, except the gray streaks through the strands.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say, bending down to brush a kiss against her cheek. “These are for you.” I offer her the flowers as I pull away and see the same smile I’ve seen on Anastasia’s face.

“My goodness! They are so beautiful. I must find a vase for them. I’m sure it’s collecting dust since my son never brings me flowers,” she says, giving the evil eye to Dominic.

Where Anastasia favors her mother, Dominic favors their father. Except his stature. That seems to be all his own. Anastasia stands taller than both of her parents, but where she’s a few inches taller, Dominic towers. I think his arms are even bigger than mine.

Anastasia snorts with laughter and I try to hold in my own chuckle.

“Mama, I’m busy! Does it not count that I pick you and your drunk friends up from Bingo?”

“Maybe it’d count more if you didn’t get drunk as well, causing us all to have to call your father.”

“Let’s all remember Parker doesn’t need to know about our apparent alcoholic tendencies,” Anya tells them with both mortification and love in her voice.

“Oh, I like to get as full a picture as I can,” I tell her. Her scowl directed at me merely makes me laugh.

“Please ignore my wife. She receives plenty of flowers from me,” her father says, stepping forward, offering me his hand.

“I have no doubt, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise. My name is Carl. If I could just say, I might be biased, but even without the show airing yet, I know Anastasia is the best person you have left.”

“I agree with you completely,” I say before leaning toward him conspiratorially. “But don’t tell anyone else I said so. At least until the end of the show.” I try to pull my hand back, but he holds tight and I don’t want to yank it from his grip.

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