She laughs. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Keep it up and I’m going to have to make Niki have a beer with me in the garage so I can feel like a man again,” he says.
“There’s nothing in the garage, honey,” Grace tells him.
“That’s not the point. There are tools and the faint scent of gasoline and grease. It’s a man space,” he insists, even though I can tell he’s joking. “Or we could just sit in recliners and watch a sport.”
Grace pats his hand. “That sounds like a better plan.”
With each passing minute, my nerves start to dissolve, and I find myself having a good time without having to think about it. Savanna rests her hand on my thigh, and everything about this moment feels perfect. It’s as far away from the life I’ve always known as you can get, but it doesn’t matter. They don’t treat me like I’m a criminal, and I tell myself that it’s not just because they don’t know that I am one, and they don’t pepper me with a million questions and assume I’m going to lead their daughter down a path they don’t want her to go on. I expected the wholewe’re not going to let you ruin our daughter’s lifething, but that’s not the vibe they’re putting off at all. They seem genuinely happy for us, thrilled even that their daughter has met someone and that I’m so obviously smitten with her.
When supper is over, I start gathering things to carry into the kitchen, and when Savanna joins in, her mom says, “Go visit with your dad, honey. Niki and I have this, don’t we?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, reaching for more dishes.
Savanna raises a brow at me, silently asking if that’s okay, and when I grin and kiss her cheek, she takes the opportunity to whisper, “I told you they’d love you.” Then she discreetly reaches around to grab my ass before walking into the living room with her dad.
“I saw that,” her mom says, and it’s the first time I’ve blushed this bad in a very long time.
Savanna laughs before she disappears, leaving me alone with her mom. I opt for silence and start carrying the pile of dishes to the sink. Grace comes in behind me, setting the last of the plates on the counter while I start rinsing and loading their dishwasher.
“I’m impressed,” she says, watching me work. “Smart and handy around the house.”
“My mom trained me well,” I say with a grin.
“Are you close to your family?” she asks while she starts to put away the leftovers.
“Very. My older brother is in Oregon right now with his wife’s family, but they just had their first baby. My parents are pretty excited about it.” I dry my hands off so I can pull up a photo for her to see.
“Oh my god, what a beautiful family,” Grace says as she leans over to see.
“Yeah, Lyra’s really cute. We were able to fly there after she was born, but I’m looking forward to seeing more of her when they come back. He’s my only sibling, but we were raised with our cousins, so they all feel like siblings to me. We’re aunts and uncles to everyone’s kids. It’s kind of crazy.”
“That’s nice, though,” Grace says. “I always wished we’d been able to have more kids, but that’s just how it is sometimes.”
“Sav has only good things to say about her childhood,” I tell her. “She and Cindy are as close as sisters.”
Grace grins at that. “Yeah, they are. Those two were glued at the hip when they were growing up.” She holds up a finger. “Wait one second.”
She walks out of the kitchen, and I go back to loading the dishwasher. I’ve just gotten it finished when she comes back holding a large album.
“Oh, please tell me that’s photos of Sav growing up.”
She sets it on the island and gives me a conspiratorial wink. “It is. I know everyone keeps things on their phones now, but there’s nothing like an actual photo album.” Her hand runs along the cover. “These are my favorites.” Opening it up, she scoots it towards me. “Better look fast before Sav gets curious and comes to find you. There are some really good ones in here,” she says with a kind but wicked-sounding laugh.
I turn the page and get started. The first few pages are filled with cute baby pictures, the kind every parent has of big, gummy smiles and bare little bottoms. I grin when I spot the dimple I love so much. Her hair was a lighter blonde when she was little, and soon the pictures shift to her with pigtails and little dresses and sparkly shoes. She was very much a girly girl, and I’m smiling as I slowly look at every single picture. My mind naturally starts to wander to what our kids would look like. Will they have dark hair like me or blonde like her? Grey eyes or blue?
It makes me curious, and when I turn the page and laugh, her voice pulls my attention from the picture of her and Cindy in their Halloween costumes, the year they decided to dress like it was the ‘80s. The amount of neon in the photo is close toblinding, and I’m surprised they could both fit in the photo with all that big hair.
“Mom, you traitor,” she says with a laugh.
Grace grabs a pie and some plates. “I’ve waited so long to be able to do this. Don’t take away our fun. Plus, you were adorable as a kid.”
“You really were,” I say, wrapping my arm around her when she steps in close to look at the album.
“Oh my god,” she groans. “I think we went through two bottles of hairspray that night.”
“You two looked so cute,” Grace says, and then she slides two slices of pie onto a couple of plates before scooting the rest of it over to us. “I’m gonna sit with your dad. You two join us when you’re done.”
