Page 31 of Dash to Me
“Mom, please,” Atlas groans, but I can tell he’s pleased by the comparison.
Conversation flows easily after that. We talk about my career, Atlas taking over the family business, and our future. It strikes me how natural this feels—being here as Atlas’s girlfriend rather than just Ryan’s sister or the neighbor kid.
“Remember when these two used to build forts in the backyard?” Mr. Lockwood asks, gesturing between Atlas and me with his fork. “Eva was always the architect. Bossed Atlas around something fierce.”
“I did not!” I protest, laughing.
Atlas chuckles beside me. “You absolutely did. You had blueprints drawn up on construction paper and everything.”
“She was already showing her design skills,” Mrs. Lockwood says proudly, as if I were her own daughter. The thought warms me unexpectedly.
“And Atlas would follow her instructions to the letter,” Mr. Lockwood adds. “Even when she made him gather specific lengths of sticks from the woods.”
“They had to be structurally sound,” I defend myself, unable to stop smiling. “And he never complained.”
Atlas’s hand finds mine under the table. “Worth it to see you happy,” he says quietly, just for me to hear.
The dinner continues with more stories—some embarrassing, some sweet—but all reminding me of how intertwined our lives have always been. It’s strange to think that all those years, while I was seeing Atlas as my brother’s best friend, he was seeing something more in me.
“Are we ready for the chocolate cake?” Mrs. Lockwood asks, standing to clear the plates.
“Let me help,” I offer, gathering my silverware.
“Nonsense. You’re our guest tonight.” She waves me back down. “Atlas can help me.”
Atlas squeezes my hand before following his mother into the kitchen, leaving me alone with Mr. Lockwood.
“He’s happier than I’ve ever seen him,” he says once we’re alone. His voice is softer now, the teasing tone replaced with something more serious. “You know, he turned down a job in Chicago right after graduation.”
“He did?” This is news to me. “Why?”
Mr. Lockwood gives me a knowing look. “He said he wasn’t ready to leave home yet, but Sarah and I knew better. He couldn’t bear the thought of being that far from you.”
My throat tightens. “I had no idea.”
“That’s Atlas. Always putting others first, especially you.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I hope you know how much you mean to him. This isn’t just some passing thing for my son.”
“It’s not for me either,” I admit, feeling vulnerable but certain. “I think I’ve always loved him in some way. I just didn’t recognize it for what it was.”
Mr. Lockwood nods, satisfied. “Sometimes the best things are right in front of us all along.”
Atlas returns, carrying four plates with a slice of cake.
“So,” Mrs. Lockwood says as she serves the cake, “when are you going to get married? You know how I feel about grandkids. And your sister is adamant about not wanting kids herself.”
Atlas’ eyes go wide and I put my hand on top of his. “We want kids. So you don’t have to worry about us like that.”
“We’re taking things at our own pace,” Atlas says.
“Of course, of course,” Mrs. Lockwood says, though her smile suggests she’s already planning a wedding in her head. “No pressure.”
“Speaking of pressure,” Mr. Lockwood mercifully changes the subject, “how’s Ryan handling that new coaching position?”
I gratefully seize the topic. “He’s loving it. The high school basketball team actually has a shot at regionals this year.”
“That boy always did have a gift for leadership,” Mrs. Lockwood says.
It’s been a good dinner, but there are so many things we need to talk about. And now that we live together, it’s even more important. His parents have opened my eyes to the things I missed. The things that were right in front of my face this whole time.
