She takes a deep breath. “Yes. Can’t wait.”
I open the door and we walk to the kitchen.
My entire family is there. The boys are eating orange Popsicles, which I suspect they were bribed with to get them to stop yelling. But at the sight of us, Max’s eyes bug out of his head.
“That’s the girl!” he cries. “The one that was naked!”
“Guys, this is Molly,” I say, putting my arm around her. “You met her the other day. She’s my girlfriend.”
My mother drops the sponge she’s holding onto the kitchen island and puts her hand over her mouth. My dad inclines his head at me with a huge smile. Dave gapes at me like I’ve announced I’m quitting my job to become a professional hang glider. Max and Jack both squeal “Eeeeeeeeew, girlfriend!”
Only Clara seems to have her wits about her. “Hey, Molly,” she says pleasantly.
Molly smiles at my assembled family members. “Hi.”
Clara gathers her sons and corrals them out onto the lanai, from which their shrill protests of disgust are less deafening. I walk over to the refrigerator and fill two glasses of water.
“Sorry,” I say, handing one to Molly. “We were looking at old yearbooks and lost track of time.”
Dave snorts. “Sounds like they were pretty good yearbooks.”
“Very good,” Molly agrees.
“Did I hear you say ‘girlfriend’?” my mother asks, glancing across the kitchen at my father as if to sayis this really happening?
“Yep,” I say.
“Seth!” she cries, beaming. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Hot off the presses,” I say.
My mom rushes over and gives Molly a big hug. “I’m so happy for you two.”
“Seth is a lucky man,” my dad says.
Dave has politely wiped away his instinctive horror. “Welcome to the family, Molly,” he says.
Molly grins at him. “Honor to be nominated.”
My mom holds up an enormous bag of leftovers. “Would you two like some hush puppies?”
“No,” I say quickly. I’m sure Molly is dying to get out of here.
“Actually yes,” Molly says. “I’m starving.”
“Oh good,” my mom says. “We also have tri-tip and mahi and—here, I’ll make you a plate.”
“Thanks,” Molly says.
“Do you want a plate, Seth?” my mom asks.
“I’ll share Molly’s.”
“I was just about to open a bottle of pinot,” my dad says. “Care for a glass?”
“Sure,” Molly says.
And then my parents are dishing up food and pouring wine and leading us out to the patio.
