“Not quite a vegan. I ate cheese and eggs.” Why did I even stop eating meat? It had to be some teenage thing. “One of the cool girls in high school said meat was gross, and it kind of stuck.”
“You care too much about what people think.” Mom starts unloading the fridge onto the bar.
I still do. “I’m trying not to.”
Mom reaches out and squeezes my hand. “I know you are. I know. Imogene, is there anything you don’t like or are allergicto?”
“No.”
My father steps into the kitchen with half a dozen bags in his arms. “You upgraded your security system.”
Vex did.
“I’m impressed. That’s state-of-the-art technology.”
State of the art… It should have gone off when they walked in. Vex knows my parents are here. Is he going to come inside? No… Vex wouldn’t do that. Whatever this relationship is, it isn’t the meet your parents and book the country club type.
That’s one less worry. “It seemed like time for an upgrade.” AKA Vex insisted.
“You can’t be too safe.” Dad sets the groceries on the bar. “I’ll be right back with the next batch.”
Next batch? “Mom, what’s going on?”
“Why would you think anything is going on?”
Because Dad just brought in six bags and he’s going back for more. “Because you know very well, I don’t need flour.” Let alone six five-pound bags. This is enough to feed an army.
“Your father and I were talking—”
Which translates to you had an idea and talked him into something I’m going to regret.
“—you never got a housewarming party.”
Housewarming? Party? “Mom.”
“What? It’ll be perfect. Nothing too formal. We’ll just invite your neighbors to come over on Sunday. We’ll need to start baking today. You don’t want them to think you’re a bad host or unwelcoming.” Mom packs the chicken on the sandwich she’s making for Imogene. “Do you cook, dear? I’m sure Dahlia and I could use a bit of help.”
“I do. It’s always been a hobby of mine, but I haven’t had an opportunity in a long while.”
“Well, that’s just perfect. Dahlia mentioned she has several very nice single men living in the neighborhood.”
“Eugenia, you aren’t tormenting Dahlia about that boy, are you?” Dad sets another armload down.
“Of course not. I was just inviting Dahlia’s friend to the party.”
Dad gives her a knowing look and turns to head back outside.
Just how much food do they plan on making?
“Your father thought I was going to ask you about Max, but I told him I wouldn’t.”
Mom doesn’t break a promise, but those calculating eyes of hers make me think she’s going to find a way around that promise.
“Imogene, have you met any of Dahlia’s neighbors?” She slices the sandwich in half and slides it across the bar, holding it just out of Imogene’s reach, waiting for an answer.
“Mom, she doesn’t have to answer that.”
“Why wouldn’t she? I’m your mother. I need to know about all your friends and neighbors.”