Page 73 of An Introvert's Guide to Life and Love
“Enmeshed? I mean, I guess we are.”
“You really are.Youobviously know everyone in this town. And one brother is a teacher and the other a realtor. It’s cute.”
“Cute?”
“I mean, this is like your Stars Hollow. And you’re Lorelai Gilmore.”
“You lost me at Stars Hollow.”
“FromGilmore Girls?”
“Ah.” He takes a sip of his seltzer. “We were always more of aSopranosfamily.”
“Fair enough.” I fidget with my nearly empty cup. “Anyway, it’s nice, that’s all. I’m kind of jealous.”
“What, are you saying you’re not enmeshed up there in Seattle?” He gives me a playful nudge with his elbow.
“Not at all. I’m completely un-meshed.”
He doesn’t reply for a moment, and I worry that I’m sounding a tad pathetic.
“Well, hey,” he says, gesturing around the garden, “look what you’ve done here. You’ve only been here a few weeks and you can pull together a crowd like this.”
“They’re all here because of him. The star of the show!” I nod towards Gramps, who’s clearly having the time of his life in the center of a cluster of friends and family. “Speaking of Gramps, I should introduce you.”
Daniel straightens up and nods dutifully. “Lead the way.”
Walking with Daniel across the yard, I immediately realize the impact this has on my relatives. I should have seen this coming. My parents, Aunt Lenore, even Ellie stop and watch us with avid curiosity, exchanging meaningful looks with one another.
“My property manager,” I explain to Mom and Dad as we pass by. “He manages the house. In a professional capacity.”
Daniel doesn’t seem to notice. When we reach Gramps, he sticks out a confident hand and shakes Gramps’s warmly.
“Gramps, I wanted to introduce you to Daniel McKinnon,” I say. “He’s managing Pebble Cottage for me.”
“Nice to meet you, sir, and happy birthday.” Daniel has turned on the Southern charm, and it does notnotcharm me.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. McKinnon.” Gramps’s eyes are wide and mischievous as he turns to me. “Mallory, you never told me your property manager was so…”
I hold my breath, bracing for him to sayyoungorgood-looking.
“Red-haired,” Gramps concludes. I groan and start to chide him, but he continues, “A red-haired McKinnon. Are you, by any chance, related to the late Callum McKinnon?”
Daniel’s face relaxes into a warm smile. “He was my dad.”
“I knew it. He was our jack-of-all-trades for many years. I was never very handy myself, and Cal never minded coming over to change a single lightbulb.”
“Sounds like Dad.”
“I was sorry to hear about his passing. He was no age to go.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Gramps’s attention is pulled away by Lenore’s husband, who is demanding to know Gramps’s opinion on the latest political debate. I shrug at Daniel as if to say,Well, that was your introduction.
“By the way”—Daniel pulls me to one side, up against a rosebush—“is there a place to put presents? I didn’t know what to get, but…” He pulls a small, neatly wrapped package out of his pocket.
“Is it a tie?” I ask.
