“Hear, hear,” Lucas adds sarcastically before chugging the entirety of whatever was in his glass. Surely not alcohol at this hour.
I sneak a peek over at Maria as she gives Lucas a clear, motherly glare, telling him to knock it off, and I have to keep myself from laughing, just a little. I’m not sure what I’ve done besides care for his best friend that has his knickers in a twist, but I won’t just roll over and allow him to win this pissing match.
“So, Nora hasn’t told us much about you, Tristan,” Martin says as he scoops a pile of roasted green beans onto his plate. “Give us the details on you. I noticed the accent. Where are you from in England?”
“All over, really. We bounced all across the greater United Kingdom, but I suppose you could say that I spent more time in London than anywhere else.”
“Isn’t it odd to move so much?” Lucas asks. “I mean, unless there’s something wrong.”
“And what brought you to the States?” Maria asks louder, drowning out and ignoring Lucas’s question completely.
“A couple of things really. I accepted a teaching position at Hyde under the expert watch of my longtime family friend, Adrianna Griffin, in the Art department. Concurrently, I had my first gallery show in the States.”
“Tristan is very talented. He works in every medium you can imagine,” Nora boasts. Another strange sensation to have someone, someone like her, brag upon me.
“That’s not entirely true,” I say. “I’m very unfamiliar with many mediums.”
“Don’t be modest. You draw, you paint, you play the violin so beautifully… and you can cook.”
“What? Does he rescue orphaned puppies on the weekends too?” Lucas says under his breath but we can all hear it.
“Lucas,” Martin chastises. “Enough.”
He doesn’t do it loudly. It doesn’t cause a scene in any way, but the intensity is there.
“My mother was very strict about us having multiple outlets for our energy and brains,” I say, continuing to eat, but placing my hand on Nora’s leg under the table, squeezing to let her know that this is okay.
“Us?” Maria asks. “Do you have siblings?”
The question hits me like a ton of bricks. I should have known they’d ask about my family. Who wouldn’t? It’s a perfectly logical question.
But it connects like a bullet to my heart.
“Um, yes, I have a sister,” I place my fork down, “but she passed away two years ago.”
Maria puts her hand over her heart. “Oh, Tristan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something so obviously painful.”
It’s Nora’s turn to slide her hand over my knee under the cover of the linens in solidarity and solace. “It’s all right. I’ve started finally being able to talk about her again. She was my other half and I’d like it to be so again.”
“That’s beautiful,” Martin states.
This family is so oddly warm and welcoming. Either they have not surmised I’m Nora’s professor or they don’t seem to mind. I’m hoping for the latter for Nora’s sake. “And I don’t rescue the puppies, I just help fund the rescue.” I smirk.
The lightness and humor only lasts for a moment though, before the next bomb of a question is dropped right in our laps.
“You said you were a teacher over at Hyde, is that right?” Martin asks, taking a bite of his food.
Nora answers before I can. “He is, yes. He’s highly respected in the Art Department and has multiple publications under his belt.” She’s trying her best to keep the focus on my achievements and less so on the fact that I’m her professor.
I rest my hand over hers in clear view of everyone. “I spent my time teaching mainly first-years for the beginning of my tenure. The last two years, I have been teaching a course I created for those with a special interest in my subject matter and it’s for upperclassmen only, usually. Only a few second-years are accepted based on their academics. Nora is one of those second-years. She’s also been my teaching assistant for most of my other classes since the early part of the term.”
The cat is now out of the bag and meowing loudly.
Aside from the aforementioned cat, the silence in the room is deafening.
“You’re Nora’s professor?” Maria finally asks, breaking the quiet game we seemed to be playing.
“I am, yes,” I answer plainly without hesitation. I don’t want this to be taboo. What we are doing isn’t wrong. Not even a little.
“That is certainly very interesting information,” Lucas adds in. “And I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
“If I’d be allowed to speak further on this for a moment?” I ask, but Maria holds her hand up, asking me to stop.
“I’d like to say something first, if that’s all right?” she says, smiling at me with her big, brown eyes.
“Absolutely, this is your home.” I nod while keeping a side-eye watch on the boy wonder across from me.
“While this is truly the last thing we were expecting to hear today, I don’t think we’ll be responding in the way that you assume.” She looks over to her husband and takes his hand on the table, squeezing gently. “We know that Nora would only bring you here to meet us if you were important to her. In the end, that’s all that matters to the two of us.”
Martin, thankfully, nods in agreement.
“That is something we agree on. Nora’s happiness and her success in either her academia or with her work is paramount for me. I want to do everything I possibly can to assure she gets everything she deserves. She challenges me in class and with life in general. Quite frankly, I’ve never met anyone like her.”
A tiny gasp escapes from my Petal. I place my hand on her back and pulse my fingertips. A sound like that does things to me. Her shock has amped something inside me. I’ve pleased her. Her response has pleased me. My wiring is calling for me to do things to her I won’t have the opportunity to act on for quite a while.
“Those are lofty promises,” Lucas says, breaking the moment, and he’s lucky we are in a place surrounded by his loved ones or I’d have much more to say to him with more than words.
“Well,” Maria calls out, pulling my attention completely to her to distract from the tension they left in the air. “I hope you all left room for dessert. Let me just get this cleaned up and I’ll be right back out to serve it.”
“Please, allow me to assist with the cleanup,” I say, rising to my feet. “It’s the least that I can do.”
“You’re a guest, Tristan,” she adds.
“My mother would never forgive me if I broke etiquette and watched you work. Please allow me.”
“All right. Boys, you can go back to the second half of your game. Nora, please referee.”
“I don’t know if I can, but I’ll try.”
I press my lips to Nora’s temple before I take the serving dishes from Maria’s hand.
“Follow me,” she says and motions her head toward the archway just off the dining room.
I scrape the discarded food from each plate into the garbage disposal just as she does. I fold my jacket over a kitchen chair then I roll up my sleeves to start washing the dishes for her.