Lucien opened his door suddenly with a cough. He avoided my eyes as he exited the truck and came to my side. Like a gentleman, he grabbed the groceries, shifting them to one hand as he opened the door for me.
“I think as an immortal, I will fare just fine. Come on before your ice cream melts,” he said with his free hand outstretched. I took it before he pulled me from the track, half dragging me behind him to the house. I wasn’t sure where hissudden urgency came from, but I knew it wasn’t excitement to meet my dad.
The television was audible from the entryway and I recognized it as the antique appraisal show on the local station. It was his comfort show, which meant he was in a good enough mood that this might not completely blow up in my face.
“Hey, dad,” I shouted from the entry. “I’m home and I brought over someone. Are you decent enough for company?”
“What? Does your dad walk around naked?” Lucien whispered to me. I punched his arm with a look that told him to be quiet. Rubbing his arm, he pouted like a wounded dog.
“Shush before he—,” my words stopped when dad exited the living room. “Dad, this is Lucien Dumas. Agatha’s grandson. You remember Isa and Ambrose, right?”
“What’s going on here? Why is he acting hurt?” he questioned as he journeyed closer to us. Lucien held his hand out first and the two joined hands. I watched worriedly as my dad stared him down, unsure if it was in a bad way or not.
“Your daughter just has a mean punching arm,” Lucien answered his question with a more respectful tone than he used. It was almost startling to see the change in attitude from him. His response, however, earned a chuckle from my father.
“I would be the one to thank for that,” he admitted. Releasing Lucien’s hand, he looked over at me. “Another friend?”
“Actually, um—.” I wanted to answer before Lucien, but it was almost as if my brain didn’t want to cooperate. What were we? After that talk in the grocery store, I wondered if he had also given into the inevitable.
“Boyfriend,” Lucien answered when he noticed I was struggling with an answer.
There were a few beats of silence that left the two of us extremely nervous of what my dad’s reaction would be. He justlooked at the both of us. No words or emotion on his face as he stared.
And stared.
And stared.
“Dad? Are you okay?” I finally spoke up.
“Is it true? He’s your boyfriend?” he asked. I nodded, still waiting. Surprising both of us, my father pulled Lucien into another handshake with more energy in his shake. “Oh, thank god. After the last one, I thought you were going to be alone forever or end up with the bad option.”
I sputtered before speaking up. “What’s the bad option?”
“Well, honey, you may be beautiful in your old man’s eyes, but I thought that maybe in others you weren’t attractive. Honestly, I would have been just as happy if you brought another girl home,” he continued saying without sugar coating his words.
Turning to Lucien, he smiled at him. Though it was large, it didn’t reach his eyes the way it should. It was strange for my father to accept someone so readily, even in his good mood. Not when he had cleaned his shotgun on the front porch to greet Lance Strickland, who had been the last boy I’d brought home.
Perhaps it was an act for my benefit.
“Thank you for giving an old man hope again.”
Lucien, seeming none the wiser of my father’s strangeness, smiled back with a nod of his head. As if he was doing some grand deed of choosing me. “Of course, sir.”
“Is this some kind of reverse psychology?” I asked. “Or maybe you’ve finally gone senile, dad. Oh God, do you know who I am? What year is it?”
He swatted my hand as I waved it in front of his face. “Stop that. I’m as healthy as an ox. Don’t you want your dad to be happy about your relationship? Or would you prefer the cleaning gun and threatening dad? There’s still time for a redo.”
“No there’s not,” I exhaled before pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. He was definitely not reacting the way I thought he would. I eyed the beer in his hand and almost wondered if he had drunk too much. “I have groceries to put up.”
“I’ve got my antique show going. Want to watch while she puts up the groceries?” my dad asked Lucien, gesturing to the living room with his beer bottle. He was testing Lucien with this question, but I wasn’t sure which answer would be the better one for Lucien. Help me and turn him down or bond with my dad and turn me down?
“I think I’ll help Mel, but I’m definitely interested in this antique show.”
My dad’s lips curved in a smile of approval before he clapped him on the back. “Melinda, no funny business in the kitchen. This one will be on my good side the longer he keeps his hands off you. I’m happy you’re finally seeking romance, but just not under this roof. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Once he disappeared, Lucien nudged me. “So, he doesn’t know of your tangle in the sheets with the bartender?” I elbowed him and smiled innocently at my dad, who had been alerted to Lucien’s grunt.
