Sean then introduces everyone, something that was supposed to be Michael’s job, and judging by the stiff set of his jawline, he’s none too happy about it.
“Let’s eat, and then we will grill the girl,” Michael’s Grandma Bella says.
“Grandma.” Lennox takes hold of her grandmother’s arm and walks with her to the table. “We grill meat, not our guests.”
Grandma snorts. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t eat her. She’sskin and bones.”
I lookat my chest. Is my lack of womanly features that obvious?
“Come dear, I’ll make sure you’re properly fed.” Grandma motions me to the seat next to her.
I turn frightened eyes on Michael, but he just shrugs.
“Sorry,” Lennox whispers to me on her way to the opposite side of the table.
I clasp my hands together to prevent them from pulling out a lock of hair. What is the probability of getting out of this evening unscathed?
Michael’s dad prays over the food and then we eat. Neither of my parents really cooked. We always ordered in for dinners or special occasions like Christmas. But this… This is amazing. I don’t know what Mrs. Bentley did to the mashed potatoes, but I’ve never tasted anything so buttery and creamy. And the roast is to die for. If I wasn’t against falling in love, I’d be falling for Mrs. Bentley’s cooking.
“Would you like some salt, dear?” Grandma asks.
She doesn’t give me time to respond before she pours half the bottle over my meat, potatoes,andfruit salad.
It was nice while it lasted.
Grandma jumps into the conversation she’s been having off and on with her son, Michael’s dad, and I gape at my snow-covered meal.
Maybe I can scrape it off?
“Here.” Michael switches our plates. Then he stands up and takes the foodto the kitchen, where I assume he will either hose it off or dump it.
He returns with a clean plate and dishes it up like I had it before the great salt debacle, then switches it back.
I peek at Grandma to make sure she didn’t see, then look at Michael. My heart pumps so ridiculously loud everyone must be able to hear it.
He gives me a sheepish smile. I want to be annoyed, but I can’t find a single thing about him to be frustrated with. He’s kind and generous, sweet and caring. All the things I’d want in a man. And for the first time in forever, I can’t believe I might actually want a man. Him. I want his smiles aimed only at me, his hand holding mine.
I glance around at the smiling faces, everyone enjoying one another’s company.
Can they really be this happy together, or is itan act?
It’s ridiculous I’m even thinking that, but I don’t know. I didn’t grow up like this. I grew up waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it’s not a feeling I can pretend away.
My dad told me if you never expect anything, you’ll never be disappointed. So I haven’t expected anything from anyone. I can’t allow myself to hope for a life like this, only to be disappointed. I won’t survive it.
I sniff, pushing back the emotion trying to make a very daring escape.
“Oh, don’t cry, dear,” Grandma says much too loud and pats my arm. “I’m sure Mikey will propose soon.”
The oxygen is sucked from my lungs, and whateverdid that, also sucked every sound from the house. My erratic heartbeat is a bass drum, booming through the big, echoey room.
Until Sean laughs. Trent covers his own mouth, and I can see Lennox fighting the temptation. Sean hiccups, and the sound breaks up his laugh like a broken trumpet.
“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Grandma gives Sean a condescending glare. “Haven’t you gone through puberty yet?”
So it’s not just my family. This one is dysfunctional too, in a good way.
And then everyone is laughing like Grandma’s comment never happened. But I can’t stop thinking about it. Does she really think I’d be good enough for Michael?
