27
Cox
The folded piece of fine-grit sandpaper was almost smooth against my fingers. I gently worked it across the wood, moving with the grain. My eyes lifted to the clock. Again. I needed to stop checking the time and focus on what I was doing. Watching the minutes tick by wasn’t going to bring Sophie home any faster.
I’d spent the first part of my evening trying to convince myself that I had not turned into the kind of guy who’d spend a Saturday night moping around because his girl went out with her friends.
It was a lie. I was that guy.
So I’d come out to my workshop in the garage. At least I could do something while I moped. I stopped sanding and ran my fingers along the wood. So far, so good.
A car pulled up outside. That was odd. I didn’t expect her home so early.
But you wouldn’t hear me complain.
I dusted the fine sawdust off my hands, covered my project with a cloth, and went back into the house.
As soon as Sophie came through the front door, I knew something was wrong. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying. I was ten feet away and it still felt like I couldn’t get to her fast enough.
She shut the door behind her and landed in my arms, resting her cheek against my chest.
“What happened, sugar bug?”
“I got hit in the face with a serving tray. It gave me a bloody nose, but I’m okay.”
“What?” I gently tipped her chin up. “You were bleeding?”
“You know how it is when something hits your nose. It doesn’t even have to hit very hard and suddenly there’s blood everywhere.”
She looked all right. No sign of bruising. “Sophie, I need you to be honest with me right now. It was really just a serving tray? Because if someone hurt you—”
“No.” She put her hand on the center of my chest. “It was a tray. The server tripped and I just happened to be in the way. Because, you know, of course I was. It’s me.”
“My poor little wifey.” I slid my fingers into her hair. “Do you need me to kiss it better?”
She laughed, and the sound was music to my ears. “Yes, please.”
I gently kissed the tip of her nose. Then her forehead. Her cheeks. Her chin. By the time I reached her lips, we were already heading for the bedroom.
And I was going to kiss her everywhere.
Sophie sat in the passenger seat, clutching the fabric of her dress in both hands. It was pink with white polka dots and made her look like a birthday present I couldn’t wait to unwrap. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she’d worn sexy pink lipstick to match.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” I said.
“I’m not nervous. What makes you think I’m nervous?”
“For starters, if you talk any faster, we’re going to have to record you and play it back in slow motion just to understand what you’re saying. And you might want to loosen your grip on your dress.”
She looked down at her lap and tried to smooth out the wrinkled fabric. “Oh no.”
“It’s all right. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks. And of course I’m nervous. I’m about to meet your mother.”
“You have nothing to fear. She’s going to love you.”
“Cox, the last time I was introduced to a boyfriend’s parents, their dog peed on my shoes while I was still wearing them. When I took them off, I realized I’d put on a pair of socks I’d gotten as a gag gift from someone at work. They had dicks all over them. In rainbow colors.”
I laughed. “I’m sorry honey, but you have to admit that’s funny. Did anyone notice?”
“Oh yes, they noticed. As soon as I walked in, his fourteen-year-old sister blurted out, Are those penises on your socks? And then they made me sit down and put my feet up on a chair so they could take a closer look. It was mortifying.”
“Well, are you wearing dick socks today?”
She cracked a smile. “No.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about. Besides, my mom doesn’t have a dog.”
“Does she have a cat?”
“No. Why?”
“Because once I was at my friend Hazel’s for movie night and her cat Erwin puked up a hairball in my lap. I’m telling you, I have the worst luck.”
“No dogs to pee on your shoes, no cats to puke in your lap, and you’re not wearing socks, so no dicks. I think you’ll be fine.”
She took a deep breath. “I hope you’re right.”
“The worst thing that’s going to happen is my mom’s going to scold me in front of you like I’m eleven again for not bringing you to meet her sooner.”
“So she knows about us? Like, all about us?”
“She knows about Vegas, yeah.”
“I can’t decide if that helps or not.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m the girl who got so drunk with her son, I convinced him to get married when we barely knew each other.”
“Convinced me?”
“We’ve been over this. It was my idea first.”
“I haven’t conceded that point yet. And who paid for the ceremony?”
She paused, as if searching her memory. “Was it you?”
“I think it was.”
“Still. She’s totally going to judge me, and I don’t even blame her.”
I laughed. “Sugar, you need to stop worrying. I told you, she’s going to love you.” I stopped talking because I’d been about to say she’s going to love you as much as I do.
That sure got the adrenaline pumping.
She glanced at me, her face lighting up with a hopeful smile. “Thanks.”
That look did nothing to slow my pounding heart. Because holy shit, did I?
I didn’t have time to keep pondering that thought. I pulled into Mom’s driveway and there she was, standing in the open front door, waiting to greet us.
Here we go.
I parked and went around to open the door for Sophie. I took both her hands in mine to help her out of the car, just to make sure she was steady on her feet.
The house I’d bought for my mom was a beautiful brick two-story with a yard that was as neatly trimmed as the golf course behind it. She stood just outside the front door—painted red, because she’d always wanted a house with a red front door—dressed in her usual polo shirt and Bermuda shorts.
I couldn’t read her expression as we approached. Was she about to smile? Or were her features on the verge of shifting into a glare? It was hard to say.
Sophie slipped her hand in mine and squeezed. I wasn’t sure whether she was offering reassurance or looking for it, but either way, it felt good.
Crossing her arms, Mom met my eyes and gave me the dreaded single eyebrow lift. “Two months, Camden.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Am I right about that? You got married two months ago?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And I’m just now meeting my daughter-in-law?” She shook her head, registering her disappointment. Then her gaze moved to Sophie and her face lit up with a bright smile. “And now I get to meet my daughter-in-law. Come here, sweetheart.”