Page 30 of Simply Irresistible
“You’re a dork,” I said.
“You love me anyway,” he said, and I caught the look Meredith gave me. I gave her a subtle shake of my head.Just a figure of speech, Mer.
“How about I drop my napkin?”
Meredith contemplated that for a moment, then agreed. “That works.”
“I’m a little insulted you’re trying to find ways to escape my family gathering.”
“You are not. Keith and I have an escape plan, too. So do you.”
“I do not,” I feigned shock, but I totally had a plan.
Meredith put her hand over her stomach, and in her most pathetic voice said “Oh, Mom. My cramps hurt so bad. I need to go lay down.”
“I don’t sound like that,” I said, lifting my chin and looking out the passenger window.
“Yeah, actually ya do.”
“Whatever. I can’t believe you left Keith at the house.”
“Oh, he didn’t come. He’s on call.”
“Dr. and Mrs. Rivers. Has a nice ring to it. You getting used to that?”
Meredith radiated joy. “I can’t wait. I think we’re close to setting a date.”
“Congratulations. Mel mentioned she was designing your wedding dress.” Tyler said from the back.
“Thanks. I couldn’t imagine anyone else making it for me. Melanie is an amazing designer.”
“I agree. I wish she’d put herself out there.”
“Me too,” Meredith said, nudging my elbow with hers.
Tyler asked questions about the area as we drove the short distance to my parents’ house. Melanie answered most of them, happy to play tour guide as she drove.And on your left, the house with all the ornaments in the front yard, known as the eyesore of the community.We turned onto my parents’ street and I felt a familiar wave of comfort roll over me. Right before the nerves set in.
My boyfriend was about to meet my parents.
“We’re here!” I said as we pulled up across the street from my parents’ home. I looked over my shoulder at Tyler. “You ready for this?”
15
Tyler
As we got out of the car, I took in the modest brick home in front of me. It was small with dark green shutters and dormer windows that suggested an upper floor. A full maple tree cast shade over one of the windows, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Melanie ever used the thick limbs of that tree to sneak out her bedroom window. Was she a rebellious teen or a good girl? I think she leaned towards the latter.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me across the quiet street. “Everyone is probably around back, but I’d bet anything Mom’s in the kitchen.”
We walked up three brick steps and through a screen door into the living room. There were two large, worn sofas facing each other with a coffee table in between, and a well-loved recliner in the corner facing a wall-mounted flat screen television. The TV was off, and all the sound was coming from the back of the house.
We followed the delicious aroma of various sweets through the house and stood at the perimeter of the kitchen for a moment before we were noticed. At least a dozen women, who each looked remarkably like Melanie at assorted ages, stood around talking at the same time. There must have been at least three different conversations going, but it seemed all the women were partaking in each one.
The noise level…
I unconsciously took a step back—I think it was survival instinct—and Melanie gave my hand a squeeze.
“Hello, Mom,” Melanie called over the ruckus.
