Page 23 of Jack Raider

Jack

I stayedat John and Marge’s on Friday night. They were Eloise's parents. I had gone to the pharmacy to pick up some condoms to keep in my wallet, and as I drove back, I knew I would meet more family members today at the barbecue. Meeting more of Eloise’s family sounded like a good idea—I thought I already knew most of them, until I pulled up to her parents' house and counted seven cars in the driveway.

She said it was just dinner.

Shelied.

I knocked once, but before I could even pull my hand back, the door swung open. A woman who looked vaguely like Eloise but with louder lipstick and a mischievous smile stared up at me.

“You must be Jack Raider,” she said, dragging out my last name like it was something scandalous. “I’m Aunt Trudy. You’re taller than I remembered from your college days. Good arms. You lift weights, or is that just all natural?”

I blinked. “Uh—both?”

She cackled and shouted back over her shoulder, “Girls, he’s nervous! I like him already!”

That’s when Eloise appeared in the hallway, cheeks pink, eyes wide with panic. “Aunt Trudy, I swear on everything,do notscare him off before he even sits down.”

I grinned. “Too late. I already met her.”

Eloise elbowed me as she pulled me inside. “I’m so sorry. Some people in my family are teasers, and they’ll tease you to death if you let them. We’ll put a stop to it right away. Okay?” She said, watching me.

“Okay,” I said, smiling.

The house smelled like fresh rolls, roasted garlic, and impending chaos. A table that could seat twelve in the dining room was crammed with enough food for thirty. Another table was set up with kids all around it. Grandma stood at the head, holding a glass of sweet tea like a gavel.

“You must be Jack,” someone else said, studying me like a suspicious judge on a cooking show.

“Yes,”

She paused. I’m Sandra Nate’s and Eloise’s sister. You’ve got kind eyes.”

“Itoldyou,” Mable piped up from the kitchen. “I knew he had kind eyes. I told you, didn’t I, Judy?”

“Mable, I’m Sandra.” She said with a chuckle.

“Let the man sit down before you start planning the wedding,” someone shouted from the back. I think it was John.

Eloise groaned.

We finally made it to the table, and to my surprise, I wasn’t grilled too badly. There were a few awkward questions—“How many women have you dated in the last year?” and “Do you know how to change a tire or are you one of those tech guys?”—but mostly, they were warm. Loud. Loving.

And I could see exactly where Eloise got her fire from.

After dinner, Grandma pulled me aside while the rest of the family fought over who was doing the dishes.

“Be kind to her,” she said, giving me the evil eye.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“But,” she added, her tone softening, “if you’re here to stay… I’m glad she picked someone who can keep up.”

That night, as Eloise walked me out to my truck, I took her hand. “I like them,” I said.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. They’re insane. But they’re yours. And they made me feel welcome.”

She leaned into me, arms around my waist. “Well, if you can survive Trudy, you can survive anything.”

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