Page 23 of Five Goodbyes

“What’s going on?” Jasmine asks.

“I don’t know. I’ve never met parents like this before. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Maybe introduce yourself and shake my dad’s hand. My mom will probably scoff if you try to shake her hand, so expect a hug. My brother will probably do something stupid like try to create a new handshake on the spot with you just to see if you’re a go-with-the-flow kind of man or a snob. Why are boys so weird? It’s easy.”

I turn to give her a look of wonderment. “Us boys? We are incredibly normal compared to the level of crazy of you girls.”

“Have you forgotten that you’ve already met them? It was the first time we met. Remember?”

“Uh, yeah. No, that’s in no way the same. If that’s the case I also met most of the people in Seattle since they were also here that day. Is there anyone in the world you aren’t related to?”

“I hope I’m not related to you cause I don’t want to have some hillbilly, one-eyed children,” she says before she pokes me hard enough in the side to make me gasp.

“You are such a brat,” I tell her with a laugh as I get in a fighter’s stance.

“Want to play, little boy?” she taunts.

“I told you I’m not little,” I growl. I make a fake step, then double back and grab her, immediately getting her into a headlock. “Say it. Tell me I’m huge,” I demand, and she starts laughing hysterically as she reaches behind and slaps me hard on the ass. We’re acting like three-year-olds.

“Never,” she says.

“Say it,” I demand again, my own laughter mixing with her. She doesn’t say it, but her next words are still enough to get me to immediately stop.

“Mom, Dad. Hi.”

In absolute horror, I turn my head to see Jasmine’s parents staring at us. If there’s a worse way to make an impression, I can’t think of it. Before I turn my body to face her parents, I give a little roll of my eyes before muttering, of course.

I immediately release Jasmine. She gives me a quick, hard jab, that’s so fast I’m sure her parents don’t even see it. She knows there’s no way for me to retaliate. I assure myself; payback will come when we’re next alone.

“Mom, Dad, this is Hunter,” Jasmine says as she looks up and bats her falsely innocent eyes at me.

I pull myself together much quicker than I thought possible. “Hunter Sparks,” I state as I put my hand out to her father.

“Lucas Anderson. Looks like you’ve gotten my daughter figured out.”

“Sir?” I question.

“That headlock. I haven’t heard of many people accomplishing that feat on her,” Mr. Anderson says with a large smile.

“I . . . It wasn’t. We were messing around. I wouldn’t do it to actually hurt her,” I stutter.

“Oh Lucas, leave the boy alone. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Hunter. If you call me anything other than Amy, I’ll show you where she got her spunk from,” Jasmine’s mom says as she steps forward and gives me a motherly hug that might just bring a few warm and fuzzies inside, though I’ll never admit it. What is it about a mother’s love that can heal everything?

“This is Jasmine’s brother, Isaiah,” Mrs. Anderson says after allowing me to breathe as she steps back. For such a small woman, she sure has strong arms.

“Good to meet you,” I say to Isaiah. Jasmine was wrong about her brother; he simply shakes my hand without any extra fluff.

“I hate airports, so let’s get out of here,” Mr. Anderson says. I agree. We all move from the airport, then move up to Jasmine’s car. Mr. Anderson insists I sit in the front, which seems wrong to me, but I’m not going to argue with the man. I still have to protest some.

“You take the front, Sir,” I say.

He laughs. “You’ve already stolen my daughter’s heart, are you trying to cuddle up to my wife in the back too?” he says. I look at him in horror.

“I’ll sit in front,” I tell him, which makes all of the Andersons laugh. I figure I’m going to be the butt of their jokes for at least the rest of the day. If that’s all I get, I’m okay with that . . . just as long as I have their approval. Hell, I’ll walk over coals barefoot for this woman.

We pile in, then get moving.

“Tell us everything about your trip to Africa!” Mrs. Anderson says as we continue driving.

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