“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us you were dating L’Corte and that it was serious!” Mom demands.
“It all happened really fast. I didn’t even know he was going to ask me to marry him.”
“We know, Pita. L’Corte explained everything when he called to ask for your hand in marriage,” my father says, making me look up at L’Corte in shock yet again.
“We could postpone the ceremony and wait until they lift the visitor restrictions so your parents could attend,” L’Corte offers, making me fall even more in love with him.
“That’s not necessary. Go. Get married,” Mom says. “I knew as soon as he asked for your favorite restaurant and had Vietnamese food added to your fancy food-making machine that he was the right man for you.”
“Thank you again for that,” I say to L’Corte, who looks bashful.
“He was very polite when he asked us for our blessing. He seems very well-mannered. Does he understand what he’s getting when he marries you?” Mom teases.
“Did Dad know what he was in for when he married you?” I sass back, making my dad laugh.
“Puh-lease. Your dad knows exactly how lucky he is. But on a serious note, I just want you to be happy,” Mom says. “Are you happy?”
“Yes, I am. I really am.”
“Good! You deserve it,” Mom says sweetly, bringing tears to my eyes.
“We love you, Pita. Come bring your man to visit us soon,” Dad requests.
“I love you guys too. Maybe once the travel restrictions get lifted, you guys can come to the ship.”
“We’d love that. Now go get married. Have someone take lots of pictures for me,” Mom demands. “And then make me some grandbabies! Lots of grandbabies.”
“Love you. Bye,” I say, quickly ending the call before Mom can find some new way to embarrass me.
I spare a glance at L’Corte to see if my mom has scared him off. I’m not sure what the look on his face means. Mostly, he just looks a little confused.
“Why does your father call you ‘pita’?” L’Corte asks. “I looked up the word after I talked to them last week, and it’s a type of bread.”
“It stands for pain in the ass,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Your father calls you a pain in the ass?” L’Corte chuckles.
“He started calling me Pita when I was 15. I was, uh, a difficult teenager. The name just stuck.”
I pull L’Corte to my lips before he can start asking any probing questions about my teen years.
“I can’t believe you planned all this. What if I hadn’t liked the things you picked out?” I tease.
“Technically, you picked everything out. You just didn’t know you were at the time. Besides, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” L’Corte says, parroting my words back at me.
He gives me more lingering kisses before pulling back with a worried look on his face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I feel like I should warn you that when I asked your parents for permission to marry you, your mother tried to get me to promise to name our first daughter after her.”
“We are absolutely not naming our daughter Xuan! She must be high if she believes I’m going to name any child of mine after her. Please tell me you didn’t make that promise.”
“Your father was able to distract her from the request before I was forced to answer.”
“The ego on that meddling woman, I swear! I can’t believe she thinks we’re going to name an innocent baby after her,” I gripe.
“Aren’t you trying to get Laney to name her unborn child after you?” L’Corte asks, confused.
