Page 36 of The Trouble With Spells
Shutting the door behind us and blocking out the cool night air, I nodded. “Oh yeah. I planned for us to be here a bit early, but we–”
“Got a bit sidetracked?” Dad tossed over his shoulder with amusement.
Scowling, I said, “No, we couldn’t find a parking spot.”
Dad grunted, but said nothing, just led us into the well-lit dining room. “Jess, look what I found making out on our front porch.”
Mom stood from her chair, her face beaming with welcome, and a raised brow at my dad tattling on us. “Michael, you were almost late.”
Her voice was joking, but we all knew how serious my mom took prompt dinner times. She expected everyone to be seated, and the first course served at the time she stated.
“Still made it.” Ihugged her warmly.
“They were occupied with…parking,” Dad slid into his chair at the opposite end of the table, while my mom greeted Callum with a hug.
“I’m so happy you boys could join us for dinner tonight,” she smiled, taking her seat once again.
Pulling Callum down to sit next to me, I chided, “Like we had a choice in the matter.”
If my parents thought it was strange I insisted he take the seat next to me, instead of across the table, they didn’t say anything.
Mom raised one perfectly manicured brow, “Michael, you always have a choice. Just know actions have consequences.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
Callum busied himself with his napkin, his fingers running over the array of utensils laid out next to the plates. The table was set immaculately with all the finery and my grandmother’s China.
“Do you always set the table like this?” Callum whispered to me.
“Naw, she’s just trying to impress you.” Smiling at him, I fought the urge to plant a sweet kiss on his red, swollen lips. He looked nervous and fidgety, and I wanted to reassure him that he belonged here. Next to me. Under the table, I squeezed his hand, my heart leaping when he squeezed back.
“It worked.”
“Just relax.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Callum,” Mom interrupted our whispering, and I was positive she had probably heard every word, “we don’t normally use the dining room, but it’s not every day we get to meet a friend of Michael’s.”
“Boyfriend,” my dad corrected, his lips quirking into that barely contained smile he had been holding back since opening the front door. “We don’t get to meet Michael’s boyfriends. You might be the first one, Callum.”
“He is,” Mom agreed, picking up her salad fork as one of the staff–I wasn’t sure of their name as they were new–placed bowls of greens in front of each of us.
“Knock it off,” waving my fork between both my parents, I gave them the stink eye. They both looked at me with absolute glee, and I rolled my eyes. “Let me apologize for my parents. It’s me they’re taking the piss with.”
“Michael, language.” Mom scolded, though she couldn’t hide the gleam of amusement in her eyes.
Callum smiled, “It’s okay. I like that you can kid with each other. My family is the same way.”
His shoulders relaxed a bit, and he began to eat.
“Do you have a big family, Callum?” Mom asked, sounding innocent, when I knew she was anything but. I really should have expected this. Callum was right; bringing him to dinner with my parents was a big deal.
“And it begins,” I muttered. “She’s going to ask you a million questions. Wait for it.”
Callum chuckled, his earlier worry seeming to have vanished as soon as we stepped over the threshold. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”
Mom shook her head at me. “Only like fifty. I need to get to know the man who has stolen my son’s heart, now don’t I?”
