“I think dinner out sounds great. I’ll come with you,” I say, leaning into my dad’s coaxing.
“And we’re going to pretend it’s not because you’ll get a free meal out of it?” My dad teases and when I shrug he throws a pretzel at me, the mini twist bouncing off my arm and onto the floor.
“Okay, enough you two. We’ll go out.” Mom acts like it's a chore, playing her part perfectly but the Cheshire grin at the end is new and something about it has my stomach clenching with nerves.
“Why don’t you invite Rachel? It’ll be less cozy if we meet her outside of our house for the first time.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that my mom said ‘for the first time’ as in ‘of many’ and I sputter for a moment before acquiescing.
Wow. Doing great at standing up for yourself. So not meek at all.
Shut up.
I shoot over the text before I can think too hard about it, or before my mother takes it upon herself to send the text for me.
Hey, sorry to bother you.
I’m going out to dinner with my parents and they were asking about you.
Would you like to grab something to eat with us?
No pressure.
(Or some because my mom has been curious about you for weeks and it’s driving me up the wall. Save me.)
I hold my breath when I shoot it off into the ether.
“She might be busy. Even though she doesn’t have friends in Dulaney yet, she’s got some really nice friends in D.C. They might have made plans.”
“Oh, you’ve met her friends?” My mom asks, eyebrow quirking up at my dad and his lips purse to hold back his laughter.
“Not like that. She’s my employee. It’s professional. We tried out an escape room with Logan and Gabrielle, and Rachel’s friends.” My tone is terser than I’d like and I regret it immediately. After an exhausting day, in pain and frustrated at more than just the task ahead of me, it’s really hard to police how things come out of my mouth.
“We’re just teasing, son. You’ve been happier the last few months than we’ve seen you in quite a long time. We only wondered if she was part of it. We won’t rib you for it again.” My dad gives me a sad smile and I pull in a shaky breath with my nod. Ready to remind them again that she might not say yes when her text comes through.
Rachel
Rachel to the rescue.
When and where? I’m starving.
My smile must speak for me because my dad leaves his pretzels behind and heads out of the kitchen with a, “I’ll get the keys.”
My mother peeks over at the phone I’ve left unguarded and I scramble to grab it before she can see what I said about her.
“Tell her we’ll meet her at Stacked in fifteen to twenty. Hopefully it’s enough notice for her. I know you mentioned at some point she doesn’t have a car so downtown is best, unless you want us to pick her up on the way somewhere else?”
My mom with unfettered access to Rachel—a captive audience—for an undetermined amount of time while we’re confined in a small space?
“Stacked is great.”
* * *
I surgeto my feet when she enters the restaurant, slightly windswept, an apology already on her lips for being late when she’s perfectly on time. My parents are just over excited and early.
Her eyes are on mine, a question in them as she gets closer, and I don’t dare hug her even though I want to. We’ve never crossed that line, not really, unless you count me catching her. I’d rather not do it for the first time in front of my parents. Instead, I step out from the table to stand beside her, my hand hovering over her lower back and wishing I could close that inch distance to touch her.
“Rachel, this is my mom, Theresa, and my dad, Frank.”
