Page 116 of When You Had Me Adapting

Poppy: That’s not what it looked like when y’all did your little walk of shame!

Lacey: >

Wren: Yeah, I didn’t mean for you to actually do what the song said.

Lacey: Very funny.

Wren: So are you going to tell us?

Lacey: Girls’ night tonight? My parents shouldn’t take long and then I’ll be all yours.

Poppy: I’m in.

Wren: Me too!

Chloe: Let me see if my mom can watch Ava. I could use a break.

Lacey: Gray?!?

Gray: Sorry, yes! I’m at my other job. I can come. I’ll bring wine.

We pull into my parents’ house with ten minutes to spare. He parks his Jeep and kills the ignition.

“I haven’t been back here since Dad sold the house,” he says, eyeing the street where so many of our memories are set.

“Well, not much has changed. Poppy’s family still lives across the street.” I point to the white house she grew up in. “The Mcafferys moved into your parents’ old place. They’re nice enough, older, no kids, and an adorable cat.”

Jace stares at the house he grew up in. His eyes gloss over and I grab his hand. “Look, I know it’s hard being back here, but I’m really glad you came.”

“No, I’m glad I came too. It’ll be good to see your family. Did you tell them I was coming?”

“I texted and let Mom know I was bringing someone. Felt like it may be more fun to surprise them with you.” I smile.

Jace jumps down from the Jeep and rounds the front of the truck. “You ready?” he asks, grabbing my hand and pulling me in for a quick kiss.

“As I’ll ever be.”

We walk down the sidewalk toward the front door of my parents’ two-story red-brick home. I ring the doorbell and straighten out the resort-print dress I put on for lunch with my parents.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

“I hate this dress.”

“I know, but you still look beautiful.” He pulls me in and places a kiss to the side of my head.

I inhale deeply and offer him a reserved smile. The dress is fine, but it’s not like my other clothes. It’s the type of dress you wear when you eat at a country club. It’s meant to be worn with pearls and modest heels. It was a gift from my mom, so I wore it knowing she can’t comment on something she purchased. No need to hear her go on and on about how I don’t dress my age, or however she thinks a twenty-seven-year-old woman should dress, when I can just wear the dress she wants me to wear.

After a couple of minutes, my dad swings the door open and greets us with a smile.

“Well this is a sight I never thought I’d see,” he says, moving to the side so we can both walk in. “Jace Jackson walking into our home for lunch.” He shakes Jace’s hand and slaps him across the shoulders.

“It’s great to see you again, Mr. Sims,” Jace says, extending his hand towards my dad.

“It’s been a while, son. How’s your dad doing? I saw him at the golf course last month and meant to call him to grab lunch, but then life got busy.” The three of us move through the narrow entryway.

“He’s doing pretty good. I’ll have to tell him you asked about him.”

“Please do,” my dad offers Jace a smile. “Grab yourself a beer, kid, and come help me on the grill.” My dad disappears out the back door, and we walk into the kitchen, where my mom is preparing a salad. “Hi, Mom,” I say. “You remember?—”

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