Delilah looked toward me, and I nodded. “Tell me what works. We’re having dinner with my parents tonight, but any other night is fine with me.”
“Are you working this week?” he asked
“I’m just on call for emergencies.”
“Got it. Well, I’ll check with Rachel, and I’ll text you, okay?”
“Sounds good, man.”
Remy tapped Delilah lightly on the shoulder as he turned away.
Delilah took a bite of her bagel, letting out a moan. “Oh, my God,” she said after she finished chewing. “This is incredible.”
I grinned. “Oh, yeah. Don’t go thinking that’s imported salmon. Probably caught right here in Cook Inlet. Were you close to Remy growing up?” I asked between bites of my own bagel and sips of coffee.
Delilah cocked her head to the side, lifting one hand and swiveling it side to side in the air. “Sort of. Shay and I were in high school together, so obviously, I know her better. He was a few years ahead of us. He’s that kind of friend. Like I’ve known him forever, but we weren’t really close.” Before I could say anything else, she added, “So we’re having dinner with your parents tonight?”
I silently swore. Now, she was probably going to worry about it all day.
“Do you mind? Because we can change plans. I just figured we might as well because you’re here. Holly and Nate will be there.”
Delilah’s eyes searched my face, but she stayed quiet, finally offering, “That’s okay. I figured I would meet them. This way I’ll only obsess all day today.”
“I swear they don’t bite.”
She was quiet for a few minutes, and the sound of people talking in the background filled the next few moments as we ate. I thought she was going to drop it, but she blurted out, “I’ve never met anyone’s parents.”
Looking across at her, I said the only thing that came to mind. “I’ve never brought anyone home to meet my parents.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Delilah
“So, what do you do?” Alex’s mother, Leslie, asked.
This was, of course, a perfectly reasonable, polite, and expected question. It’s just it didn’t feel great to tell his mother I was a bartender.
But I prided myself on being honest. “I bartend. I’m also in nursing school,” I added, hoping whatever I did with my face resembled a smile.
I was way too tense about meeting Alex’s parents.
Leslie smiled. “Oh, I bartended for a few years when I was in college. It’s a great way to make money and have a flexible schedule. Holly mentioned you were in nursing school. How’s it going?”
“Okay, I guess. I’m doing classes while I work, so it’s mostly online. Next spring, I’ll need to line up my internship.”
His mother nodded again. “I’ll be honest, I enjoyed being a nurse, but I did not miss school. It was a ton of work. I can’t believe you’re doing it while you’re also working full-time.”
I shrugged. “It’s the only way to afford it. After my internship next year, I’ll be done.”
Just then, Alex and his father returned from the garage where Alex had been looking at something on his father’s car. “When’s dinner going to be ready?” his father, Russell, asked.
Alex’s mother cast me an apologetic smile. “He’s always starving. I’ve never figured out how to manage that, despite over thirty-five years of marriage.”
Russell cast me an unabashed grin. “It’s just because she’s such a good cook.”
Leslie stood from where we were seated in a pair of chairs, crossing over to him. He leaned over and dusted a kiss across her lips. “Such a charmer. About fifteen minutes, let me go check the oven,” she replied. “Do you know when Holly and Nate will be here?”
Alex had crossed the room to stand beside me where I was sitting in a comfortable chair. He looked at his watch. “She said fifteen minutes ago, but obviously, they’re late.” He glanced down at me. “Would you like something to drink?”
I started to shake my head, but then Leslie spoke. “Oh, my goodness! I didn’t offer you something to drink yet. Alex, fix that now.”
I felt his hand come to rest on my shoulder, and that subtle touch somehow eased the anxiety starting to spin in my chest. “They have plenty of options. Wine, beer, water, soda, juice, and I don’t know, probably something else,” Alex offered with a grin.
“What are you having?”
“I’m going to grab a beer.”
“I’ll take whatever you’re having.”
His eyes searched mine briefly. “You don’t have to. If you prefer something else, all you have to do is say so.”
“I like beer. I promise I’m not having it just because you are,” I offered with a smile.
Alex departed the living room, stepping through the archway into a kitchen. A moment later, he returned with two bottles of beer in his hands. He sat down in a chair beside me. His parents’ house was comfortable. The ceilings were tall with light coming in through the windows that looked out over a field. There was a big sectional sofa and two comfy chairs angled toward each other with a small table between them.
I wanted to relax. I wasn’t normally all that shy. I couldn’t be when I worked at a bar all the time. But this first—meeting a man’s parents, a man who was coming to mean so very much to me—had me feeling tongue-tied and twisted up inside with nervousness.
Alex caught my eyes. “You don’t need to worry. They already love you,” he said in a low voice.
I bit my lip before I took a swallow of my beer. “This is a nice place,” I offered, not really wanting to dwell on how I was feeling.
“It is.”
Glancing out the window, I asked, “Is there anywhere that doesn’t have a pretty view in Alaska?”
He chuckled. “Probably not. I could say the same about the mountains in North Carolina.”
“True, but everything here is so much bigger.”
Alex was nodding when the front door opened, and Holly and Nate entered. Holly crossed the room to me immediately. Setting my beer on the table beside my chair, I stood to greet her and was surprised when Holly pulled me into a big hug.
“Oh, my gosh!” she said when she stepped back. “It’s so great that you’re here. What do you think of Willow Brook so far?”
“It’s beautiful,” I began, not able to get anything else out.
Nate was saying something to Alex, and then Alex’s parents were back in the room with everyone greeting each other. I felt like an interloper. I didn’t have experience with a family like this—one where everyone was nice and clearly held an easy, genuine affection for each other.
My manners got me through it, and it wasn’t long before we were sitting at the dinner table. We’d never even had a dining room table in the various homes I shared with my parents growing up. I imagined Holly and Alex probably sat down for dinner with their parents every night when they were kids.
“Let’s say grace,” his mother said.
Everyone bowed their heads. “Amen,” his father finished after rattling off the fastest prayer I’d ever heard.