Page 43 of Unexpected Love
Bringing Cal tonight was a mistake, but it’s too late now to make a run for it. Hopefully, her sights will stay tuned to Steve and his unfinished project. But that’s wishful thinking. As soon as she gets a whiff of Cal and Charlie, she’s going to have an all new obsession. I can only imagine how this dinner might unfold.
Hopefully, it’ll be enough of a distraction that we can steer clear of the Ways Jules Has Failed conversations that have happened at every family dinner for the last year.
“Well hello, angel. Aren’t you precious?” Mom coos.
“Looks like Barb found Charlie,” Nancy mutters. “Hope Morgan is ready for the granddaughter conversation.”
“Might as well get this over with.” I grab Cal by the arm and round the corner.
“Hi, Mom and Dad,” I say, crossing the room to swoop Charlie up. “This is Charlotte. We call her Charlie. And this is my neighbor, Cal.”
His eyes shutter for a split second before he pastes his winning smile on and offers his hand to my parents.
“Cal is a firefighter, and I’ve been helping him out by babysitting Charlie on the nights he has to work.”
Dad escapes out the back door as Mom holds her hands out to Charlie. The glee on my mother’s face as Charliedives headfirst toward her sets off warning bells in my head. Looks like Morgan won’t have to be the object of her obsession after all. I will be.
Great.
Mom immediately sits on the floor with Charlie next to the overflowing toy box.
“Now’s our chance to escape,” I mutter to Cal.
He’s got this stupidly attractive soft look on his face as he watches Charlie play with my mom. I spin him by the shoulders and push him toward the door and the male members of my family gathering on the back deck. “It’s an unspoken rule in my family that the menfolk operate the grill. Go help.”
Nancy and I, with minimal help from Morgan, who still looks scared to death, get the sides sorted while the men grill the meats. Mom entertains the grandkids, and Nancy pauses to check on her. “That woman is a lot. But she loves those grandbabies.”
“I think it’s awesome.” Cal enters the kitchen, carrying a platter of chicken.
The rarely used dining table is set for the adults, and the kids are placed at the smaller kitchen table. Mom places Charlie in a high chair next to her, and everyone dishes their plates.
“So, Jules. How’s your little project going,” Dad asks. I hate it when he calls it a little project. Like it’s a side thing, like it doesn’t matter or isn’t a real career. “Ready to give up and go back to the corporate world yet?”
I scoff. “No way. We had some delays, but Cal’s been helping me get it finished and ready for opening.”
Dad’s attention turns to Cal. “You’re helping her?”
The underlying tone in the words only fuels the anger burbling in my veins. I can’t tell if Cal picks up on the silentjudgment in Dad’s words, but I do. None of my brothers would’ve needed help. As Cal explains all the work he’s done and all that’s left to do, Dad’s expression morphs into approval.
Mom’s got goo-goo eyes for Charlie, and she’s doting on her like she’s already part of the family. If Mom had it her way, Cal and I would be getting married right away so she could have a built-in grandchild.
I shovel a bite of grilled chicken in my mouth to avoid saying something rude to this family of mine who seems to support men way more than women.
Mark slings an arm around Cal and pulls him awkwardly toward him. They’re laughing and joking, and the bite of chicken in my mouth goes bone dry and grows three times in size.
I see it clear as day.
They’ve accepted Cal into this mix without question and are now peppering him with questions about my shop. Like he’s not just the handyman finishing it out but is instead the new upcoming owner.
I push to stand while they continue droning on and on. Even though Steve’s been supportive, I can’t sit here while the rest of my family totally discounts my goals and ambitions, instead placing that shroud on a virtual stranger merely because he’s a dude who apparently clicks with my brothers.
The twins begin a squealing match in another part of the house. Mark, Cal, and my dad are telling jokes or something because they keep laughing loudly. Morgan hangs on Mark’s every word, smiling like a lovesick fool. And Nancy tosses back the last of her wine.
I begin the massive task of cleanup, determined to stay out of sight and out of mind.
Eventually, Charlie grows impatient with my mother’s doting and demands to join in the little-kid fray. A headache blooms, and I wish Nancy hadn’t slammed the last of the wine.
“It’s so lovely to meet your friend, Jules,” Mom says, carrying in a stack of empty plates. “That little girl is precious.”
