Page 87 of Looking for Love in All the Haunted Places
“Her cousins. She’s the oldest and their ringleader,” Maverick whispered to Lucky. He told her their names, ages, and which ofhis siblings they belonged to. “Freddie, my youngest brother, might not be here yet.”
“Does he have kids too?”
He shook his head. “He got married a few months ago. I think they’re still deciding but leaning toward no.”
They followed Rebel into the backyard but headed straight for the dark-skinned man wearing a cream button-up shirt and manning the impressively sized grill—Maverick’s dad.
Lucky asked to see pictures of Maverick’s parents and siblings beforehand to memorize their faces. He told her his parents didn’t tolerate being addressed by their first names or without an honorific by anyone younger than them, something she inherently knew. Her family had the same rules.
Mr. Charles Phillips, Charlie to his friends, was taller than Maverick with a bald head and a face just beginning to wrinkle. He had trickster eyes and a good-humored smile—features belonging to a man who’d fallen headlong into dad jokes and never looked back. “You’re late, knucklehead. This her?”
“It is.” Maverick sighed. “Lucky, this is my dad.”
“Hi, Mr. Phillips.” Sounding shyer than she preferred, she added, “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Lovely? Well, all right. I’ll take that.” He turned to Maverick, still smiling. “Your mama’s inside. Better hurry up before she realizes you didn’t introduce her first.” He winked at Lucky.
“You were closer.” Maverick shrugged.
They found his mom in the dining room deeply embroiled in an intense conversation with four other women—three Lucky didn’t recognize, and one she did. While the group wasn’t yelling exactly, they were exceedingly loud. Indoor voices need not apply kind of loud. But when Maverick announced their arrival with asubdued “Hey,” it was like all the sound was snatched from the room. Pin-drop quiet in an instant.
Lucky felt them staring at her, itching under her skin and begging to be read. This was why she never went to parties anymore. She wanted it to be a good, happy day, butwow. Things were off to a rough start for her.
Everyone in the group had similar features, perks of a strong gene pool, but different senses of style. Track suits, sundresses, jeans and blouses, nothing in common other than the color. They all wore a shade of cream, same as his dad.
Maverick was also wearing a cream-colored sweater and dark jeans. And Rebel looked adorable in her cream-and-brown polka-dot dress. Matching pajamas on Christmas must have been a year-round affair. Any holiday, any party, anytime.
“Everyone, this is Lucky, Lucky, this is everyone. Okay, that’s done, we’ll be elsewhere, see you later.”
Lucky followed Maverick’s lead as he abruptly turned around, attempting to whisk her away.
“Aht, aht!Get back here.” Mrs. Beverly Phillips, in the tracksuit, playfully swatted him on the shoulder. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Fight or flight kicked in.”
“Don’t start with me.” Her patient face nearly frowned but smoothed into the friendliest, most welcoming smile as she turned to Lucky. “I’ve heard so much about you. Let me get a good look at you.” She deftly pushed Maverick out of the way, stepping into his place and taking Lucky’s hands. She held their arms out wide, assessing her up and down.
Mrs. Phillips took pride in her appearance. The fitted athleisure tracksuit somehow didn’t clash with the matching jewelryset she wore—earrings, necklace, bracelet, and ring—or the soft makeup with dramatic eyelashes and blushing lipstick. The muted tones of her perfume settled nicely around her.
No other surface emotions seeped through.
Unsure what to do, Lucky became a mannequin, mirroring her movements. Was this normal? Mr. Phillips had barely glanced at her. Maybe Mrs. Phillips was in charge. Her word determined whether Lucky would be accepted by the family at large.
Maverick caught the exact moment she looked his way for reassurance.Roll with it, he mouthed.
Finally, Mrs. Phillips said, “Maverick, what is this?”
“What?”
What?Lucky’s stomach dropped.
“What is she wearing? Family wears cream and one accent color. I’m assuming you didn’t tell her.”
“Didn’t want to scare her off,” he confirmed.
“Well, now it’s going tothrowoff all of the pictures.”
She…she’d get to be in the pictures?
