We arrived at the hotel ballroom hosting the event and joined the crowd waiting to get in. A well-dressed swath of Mount Hope’s upper class and VIPs waited to show their tickets.
“How did you score tickets to this anyway?” Marshall asked.
“My mother is a pediatrician in town.” I maybe should have shared that fact sooner, but in my defense, I’d been a bit distracted lately. “She couldn’t have any biological kids, so she and my dad adopted the lot of us from foster care.”
“How many siblings do you have?” His eyes widened at the wordlot.Marshall had mentioned an older sister who lived in Seattle, but my rowdy collection of siblings would likely be a new experience for him.
“Four. One biological sibling, three adopted. I’m the middle kid.” I scanned the crowd, luckily not spotting any other Callahans. “Fair warning that at least two of my siblings are probably here tonight, but I’ve warned everyone that us dating is super new and to not overwhelm you.”
“Thank you.” Marshall pursed his lips as if thinking hard. “I’m okay meeting your family.”
“Yeah?” That was a pleasant surprise. I showed our tickets to the volunteer working the door, and we made our way into the elegantly decorated ballroom with art deco accents for the occasion.
“This is our last first date, after all.” He nodded decisively. “They might want to get used to me. And I told my mom about you when I was in Portland for the doctor’s appointment.”
Another shocker. “What did you say?”
“That you have terrible taste in shirts, an abundance of cats, a kind heart, and I like you a lot.”
I grinned so widely it was a wonder the lights didn’t flicker. “Good.”
The dinner portion of the evening included introducing Marshall to my parents, which went surprisingly well. After heexcused himself to the restroom, likely to check his pump, my mother took the opportunity to slide into the chair next to me.
“I like your friend.” She wore a vintage silver dress and matching chunky jewelry.
“Me too.” I was much too happy to play it cool.
“Is it too early to tell you to bring him to a family dinner?” my dad asked from across the table.
“A bit.” I tensed. Marshall had said he was happy meeting my family but subjecting him to the whole lot of us felt a little daunting. “But soon.”
“I’ll make meatloaf.” Dad wasn’t above bribing me with my favorite. “Do you need me to look in on your cats tonight?”
“Dad.” I was sure I was blushing again.
“Come on.” He leaned forward, tan suit coat stretching across his broad shoulders. “I’ve waited a long time for you to have a nice boyfriend for me to tease you about.”
I had also waited a long time for someone like Marshall to come along. However, I was saved from replying as Marshall arrived back at the table. The band was made up of local community college students, but they were doing an admirable job with the swing playlist. Several couples were already dancing, including Marshall’s emergency room nurse practitioner and his cute younger boyfriend. My parents joined in the fun, leaving Marshall and me alone at the table.
“Do you want to dance?” he asked.
“Yes, but I’m not very good at it.” Might as well be truthful, even if it made me blush again. “Actually, that might be a good metaphor for the rest of the evening.”
“Are you nervous?” he asked, patting my hand.
“A little.”
“If it helps, I am too.” He wrapped his arm around me. “I like you a lot. I don’t want to screw anything up, and not simply because we work together. This matters.”
“It matters to me too,” I said before Marshall leaned in for a fast, soft kiss. As with everything he did, he was a very thoughtful, present kisser who gave the endeavor his full attention, and as much as I was nervous, I also couldn’t wait to see where else he turned that intensity on.
And so we danced. As I’d suspected, Marshall was far better at dancing than me, but he was also good at leading and covering up for my missteps. He was taller than me, yet we fit together remarkably well. The more we danced, the more my anticipation for later grew until excitement replaced most of my nerves.
Back at his place, however, my anxiety reappeared as Marshall hung our suit jackets on hangers in his small entryway closet. I liked his apartment, which had a large, sunny front room with a kitchen off to one side and a bedroom beyond. His mother had done a good job with the colorful decor that felt modern and fresh while still matching Marshall’s overall serious vibe.
“We did pretty well the other night,” he remarked offhandedly. “Kissing and sleeping together. We can do more of that if you want. I’m not in a hurry to run all the bases.”
“I might be.” I chuckled as I followed him to the bedroom. The cream-colored walls featured abstract art in shades of blue complemented by a dusky teal comforter. “But starting with what we’re good at might be wise.”
