Well, at least he’s not leaving. I was never in theatre in high school, and don’t have anything to compare my family to, but I hope he means that.
“I’m glad you made it, kiddo.” Dad is beside me and wrapping me into one of his infamous bear hugs. As much as I hate that he wants me to be a part of the winery, this is one of my favorite things about him. It makes me feel like I’m a kid again.
“Thanks, Daddy.” I squeeze him back. “Sounds like we missed the chaos this morning.”
“Yep. It was entertaining.” He ignores the glare coming from his youngest child. “I only wish we caught it on camera.”
“That would have been nice.” I agree.
He lets go of me and holds out a hand. “I’m Paul, her dad.”
“I gathered that.” Tristan smiles. “Tristan, her boyfriend.”
“Apparently.” Dad’s voice is gruff as if he doesn’t approve. But last I checked, I’m a grown woman. I can have a boyfriend if I want.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sir.” His grip is still on my dad’s hand. He’s not letting go first. Iapplaud his bravery, but Dad doesn’t back down easily. “Is Paula named after you?”
Now Dad is grinning and finally pulls his hand back. “As a matter of fact, she is.”
“Oh God.” My sister rolls her eyes and heads back to the sofa. “Here we go with the naming story for the millionth time.”
As much as I’d like to join her and skip out on story time, I can’t leave Tristan to fend for himself. Though, he’s doing a pretty good job of winning my parents over. Well, Dad, at least. Mom is still on the fence. I can tell by the way she’s studying him and judging whether or not he’s good enough for me.
“When our oldest, Pierce, was born, she said I couldn’t name him after me. She didn’t want to have a Paul Junior running around. I let it go, and she named him. Gotta keep the wife happy.” He tilts his head in an “am I right” gesture.
Tristan, to his credit, is engaged with the story. He’s listening intently, as if it’s the most important tale in the universe.
“So, when Paula was born, it was my turn to name a kid.” He glances at Mom as if she wasn’t there when he named me. “One of my kids was going to have my namesake if I could manage it. So, I named her Paula. It’s not a junior, but still a derivative of my name.”
“That’s actually genius, Sir.” Tristan nods along with my dad. “I’ll have to remember that for the future.”
“Don’t get any ideas.” I shake my head. I know he’s playing along with our relationship, but seriously, if hetries to name one of our imaginary future kids, Tristina, I might murder him.
My mom’s gaze lands on me. She’s not down for this idea either. Whether it’s because she doesn’t want things to last between us, or she doesn’t believe we’re together, I don’t know. It’s best to leave that conversation for another time.
“Let’s finish the game. The boys should be back with the food soon.” Dad gestures for Tristan to follow him.
He does. Just like that, Dad has brought him into the fold. Mom reaches for me, but I side step her and follow the others to the sofa.
I don’t know who is playing, and don’t really care. Basketball isn’t a sport I care about. Or any sport for that matter. But it’s nice spending time with him without bickering over my responsibilities to carry on the family business.
One of the teams scores and my dad cheers them on. I’ll never understand this type of fandom. Grunts and laughter break through the celebration. When I turn around, my brothers are standing in the kitchen with a number of bags in their hands.
All of them are focused on Tristan. Tonight is about to get interesting. Hopefully Dad has his phone ready to record.
CHAPTER EIGHT
tristan
I don’t knowwhy Paula is so put off by her family. They seem really nice. For a second, I thought I was going to lose my hand to her Dad, but my quick thinking put us on an upward trajectory. At least, I think it did. He didn’t attempt to kick me out of the beach house.
Paula moves, and I catch it out of the corner of my eye. What in the world caught her attention?
Then I feel it. The awareness that people are staring at you, and you don’t know why, or what to do about it. Slowly, I turn toward the back of the couch. Four guys have their focus on me. All but one are scowling at me. The one has a smirk on his face, and I can tell he’s waiting to see where this goes. I guess introductions aren’t quite over yet.
“Who the fuck are you?” One of the guys asks.
My mind goes back to the notes Paula sent me on her siblings, trying to remember which one this is. I guessnobody got the memo I was coming. Maybe Paula didn’t send the text to her parents like she said. Or, they didn’t think she’d actually bring me. Either way, this trip has been interesting from the jump.
