Her eyes narrowed. “Jackson James, do you have something you wish to tell us?”
I gripped the arms of the chair, uncertain what she wished to hear. She’d said nothing about the video kiss at the ATM, probably because she considered the issue my father’s to deal with, and probably because she—unlike everyone else—didn’t believe the story that had been spread around by Sienna, Jethro, and Charlotte. Knowing my mother, she’d been waiting patiently for me to fill her in.
But now, her patience had ended.
I understood. We lived in a small town. She was the wife of the sheriff. She was a respected teacher and educator. People talked. I was an adult—certainly—but I was also a member of this family. Being a member of a family meant that my decisions didn’t just impact me. The actions of one person reflects on the others. I knew my mother would support me in whatever I did—she might not always like it, yet she supported me—but she didn’t like to be blindsided by gossip, especially not gossip broadcast on a national level.
I glanced at my dad. His eyes met mine and he raised his eyebrows, just once, like, What do you want me to say?
Thankfully, my mother gave us both the answer. “I’d like to invite your lady friend over for dinner.”
“Yes!” I agreed at once, glancing at my dad again. He gave me a small nod.
“Let me know if she has any food allergies or special dietary requirements.” My mother crossed her legs at the ankle, picking a piece of lint invisible to my eye from her skirt. “You know it’s no trouble for me to make whatever she likes best. This woman obviously means something to you. I want to make a good impression.”
“I can’t imagine you not making a good impression,” my father said, earning him an appreciative sideways smile from his wife.
I breathed out a bundle of nerves, nodding. “I’ll find out. But I’m pretty sure she eats anything.”
“Even red meat?” my mother asked with a hint of wariness.
“Yes. Even red meat,” I assured her, and saw that soothed some of her nerves.
“Good. It’s settled,” she said, standing, which meant my father and I also stood. “We’ll see y’all on Saturday.” Once more, she placed a kiss on my cheek, but this time she also paired it with a hug. “We love you, Jackson,” she said softly, her embrace tight. “We just want to see you happy.”
“I know.” I met my father’s gaze over her shoulder. His smile looked genuine now. “I love you too.”
“Steak?” Rae looked between me and the package of USDA prime rib I’d picked up for her. “You want me to give your mother steak? As a gift?” Her tone hinted at inner turmoil.
“Yes.” I nodded just once, allowing my attention to settle on Dave for a moment. He stood next to his black Escalade, waiting for Rae and me to finish our conversation so we could all drive over to my parents’ house.
“I want her to like me,” Rae said, sounding and looking distraught.
“She will love you.”
Rae didn’t look convinced. If anything, she looked more panicked than she had on Thursday when I told her about dinner with my parents. Personally, I thought we were lucky. The fallout from condom-gate seemed minor and easily managed compared to the clusterfuck that was ATM-gate.
According to Rae, her publicist had expressed delight with the photos, especially the ones of us on my fancy boat. He’d said the boat raised my profile, whatever that meant. He’d also said something about Harrison being irritated, not that I cared what that asshole thought.
Anyway, Rae hadn’t been negatively impacted. That’s the important part.
I, on the other hand, received my fair share of dirty looks from folks around town on Thursday and Friday before and during the jam session. According to Flo, they felt like they’d been lied to, and considered the photos as evidence that I’d hoodwinked them all with the initial version of events surrounding the ATM video. This had been easily remedied—for the most part—by Charlotte stepping in and spreading an alternate story. She let it be known at the library, Daisy’s Nut House, and the Piggly Wiggly that she’d set Rae and me up, a tale corroborated by Darlene Simmons.
Darlene was the redhead who’d monologued at the Cades Cove picnic about Rae’s roles being brave choices. Darlene confirmed Charlotte’s story, adding that Charlotte had mentioned to her—while Charlotte had walked into the park that Saturday and Darlene had been leaving it—that Charlotte purposefully tricked Rae and me, placing us at same the place at the same time.
And so, if you can believe it, most folks in town ended up being happy for us. Other folks didn’t buy Charlotte’s version, thought we’d been together this whole time, but still seemed (albeit warily) happy. I did receive a slew of text messages from ex-flings, female friends, and my sister expressing curiosity and excitement for me. None of my work colleagues seemed surprised or appeared to care one way or the other. My parents seemed fine with the idea, but—presently—expected us for dinner within the next twenty minutes.
Which brings us to now and Rae staring at me like I was nuttier than a package of trail mix.
“Not flowers? Or a nice silk scarf? Or a bottle of wine? Or an iPad? Or Swiss chocolate? Or a Louboutin Cabata tote?” She held up two giant gift bags, presumably filled with the items she had just mentioned.
I put the steaks back in the plastic Piggly Wiggly bag, tying the straps together. “You can put the steaks in the bag with the wine. But I’m telling you, there is nothing better you can give my mother than steak.”
Her forehead wrinkled with deep creases of concern, her eyes searched mine, torn. “You’re not playing a trick on me, are you?”
“No.” I stepped closer, giving her a soft kiss and slipping the steaks into the bag I hoped held the wine and not the silk scarf. “I wouldn’t do that. I know you’re nervous, even though I’ve told you ten times you don’t need to be.”
She nodded, looking pained and close to tears. “Okay. Okay. I’ll give your mother steaks.”
“Good,” I said soothingly. “Now let’s go.” Taking the bags from her fingers before she could change her mind, I placed my free hand on the small of her back and gently applied pressure, guiding her toward the Escalade. We’d decided to have Dave drive us tonight rather than arriving in two vehicles. I’d also liked the idea because I got the sense Rae needed to be held before and after the dinner.
When I’d told her of my mother’s request, she’d freaked out.
And by that I mean, she’d FREAKED OUT, leaving the family room of my house—where we’d just settled in to watch a movie—pacing back and forth in the kitchen for several silent minutes, and then launching a thousand questions at me about how she should behave and what she should wear and asking me if we could write a script for the evening for her to follow.
Apparently, Rae had never been introduced to a man’s parents before. This fact, plus what I knew of her own situation growing up, I understood her anxiety. But I felt confident in my mom and dad. I knew I just needed to get her there and then everything would be just fine.
I handed the gift bags over to Dave, sharing a commiserating look with the guard, then opened the back door for her. She didn’t hop inside, but rather seemed distracted by the simple and modest black dress she’d finally settled on wearing.