Page 56 of It's Complicated

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t encourage the baby talk? Like saying I’ve walked past a baby store the other day and saw this cute pink onesie and”—I theatrically put a hand over my chest—“my heart swelled at the idea of holding tiny feet.”

Jace stops at a red light and looks at me with pure terror in his eyes.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” I say. “Plus, we’re not having babies any time soon, given we’re on a sex ban.”

Jace laughs and shakes his head. “Maybe don’t mention that either.”

I make a zipper-over-mouth gesture. “Come on, your mom loves me. We’ll be fine.”

We arrive at the Barlows’ house, and Jace parks in the driveway. He kills the engine, and we get out of the car. I follow him up the porch steps to the front door. His parents live in a two-story, farm-chic townhome in Long Grove, a suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of Chicago famous for its restaurants, historical sites, and quaint charm.

Jace opens the unlocked front door without ringing the bell and calls, “Mom, Dad, we’re here…”

I follow him in and, as soon as I close the door behind me, I’m greeted by a scruffy white furball with a black patch right between his eyes.

“Oh, Crasher!” I kneel to pet the dog. He leans into me and yaps happily as I scratch him behind the ears—a valiant move on my part considering there’ll be hell to pay when I come home smelling of dog. “Hi, sweetie, where is everyone?”

“They must be out back on the veranda,” Jace says. He kneels to collect a tennis ball from the floor and bounces it twice, completely losing me Crasher’s attention.

The dog eyes the ball eagerly.

Jace scoffs. “Oh, so now you remember about me?”

The Border collie mutt barks in response.

“All right, buddy, fetch.” Jace throws the tennis ball, bowling style, gently rolling it on the floor down the long hall so as not to break anything with a flying projectile, I assume. Crasher darts after the ball, his nails making scraping sounds on the hardwood floor.

With the dog distracted, Jace guides me through the open space living room and kitchen, and out onto the veranda. This is my favorite room at his parents’ house. The walls are made of glass and can be closed off in winter. While in the summer, they keep it mostly open as a sort of large covered patio.

Today, with the sun shining high above us, the room is flooded with light. Julia, Jace’s mom, is putting the final touches to the table setting. She has a candlestick in one hand and is holding a flower vase in the other.

“Mom.”

At the sound of Jace’s voice, she unceremoniously drops both objects on the table and turns to us. “Jace.” Julia gives her son a quick hug and a peck on the cheek and then focuses on me. “Lori,” she says, her voice both surprised and happy as she pulls me into a bear hug. Then she pulls back, planting both her hands on my shoulders. “You always were part of the family, but now it’s official.”

Julia Barlow is one of those warm, nurturing people you can always count on. She has a soft, motherly smile and gentle eyes, but she can be blunt as hell when necessary. She’s also a brilliant artist with a knack for portraits. Paintings of the family and of strangers adorn the entire house.

“Aw, there you are,” Jace’s father’s voice booms across the room as the man himself emerges from the basement stairs, carrying two bottles of wine.

His wife lets me go and turns to him.

“Hunter.” I wave.

Jace’s dad smiles as he approaches. “Hi, Lori.” He leans over and kisses my cheek.

“Hi, Dad,” Jace says.

After the greetings, Jace and I help to finish setting up the table. And when everything is perfect in Julia’s eyes, she disappears inside the house to bring out a tray of hors-d’oeuvres, which she offers us. “I made these to snack on while we wait for Jessica. She’s always late.”

Then, pointing at one side of the tray, Jace’s mom adds, “This is the vegetarian side, dear.”

“Thanks.” I grab a carrot tart and pop it into my mouth. Even if Jace and I have been dating for less than a day, being at the Barlows’ already feels like being with family. They’ve known me forever and I probably see them more than my own parents.

Two goat cheese croquettes later, Jessica strolls onto the veranda.

“Took you long enough,” Jace says, once his sister arrives.

“I think what you meant to say was: My dear sister, I so look forward to our co-volunteering in the free clinic where we will spend hours together side by side helping the less fortunate.” The threat to tell on us not too subtle in her tone.

---