Page 77 of Mr. Romantic (Mister 2)

A familiar voice drifts up from downstairs and I wonder what time it is. I lean over and look at the clock on my bedside table. Almost dinnertime.

My parents are very traditional. We have Sunday dinner. I don’t, not anymore. Not since I left home for college, except for the rare occasions I’m home on Sunday evenings. Like tonight. But all growing up my mother has put on a Sunday dinner. And my father, because he’s the dean of the school, would invite various people to have dinner with us. Mostly students, but sometimes important church members.

But the voice downstairs is not a student. It’s Richard.

My father loved Richard. And I’m pretty sure that my mother started planning our wedding the first time I brought him home and he insisted on sleeping in the guest room.

As if I was ever going to let him sleep in my bed. But my mom loved it. Ate it up.

Why is he here?

I check the mirror, horrified that I look as wrung-out as I feel. I drag a brush through my hair and pinch my cheeks to get some color.

OK. Time to get back to real life. Dinner with parents and ex-boyfriend, agenda task number one.

I walk down the stairs of my parent’s historic four-square brick colonial, remembering the high ceilings and amazing view I was looking at yesterday at Nolan’s house.

It feels like a dream. I lost my virginity to Nolan Delaney.

How did that happen?

Get it together, Ivy. Put on the public face and smile.

And that’s how I walk into the dining room.

“There she is!” my father exclaims, getting up to take my hand and walk me into the living room where everyone gathers when guests are over. “Did you have a nice sleep, princess?” He leans down to kiss me on the head.

“I did. Hi, Richard.”

Boring Richard smiles at me.

“Do you feel better, honey?” my mother asks.

“Much. I just needed some sleep.”

“I heard you were on a job interview this weekend,” Boring Richard says.

“You were?” my parents exclaim together.

“How did it go?” my father asks.

“Yes, Ivy,” Richard says. “How did it go?”

Hmmm. Something is up with him. “What are you doing here, Richard?” I change the subject.

“Got a call from Nora this morning. Said you were coming here and I should check up on you.”

My father gives me a weird look. But it’s my mother who asks the obvious question. “Is everything all right, Ivy?”

I open my mouth to say yes, but Boring Richard beats me to it. “No,” he says. “Nora said she was interviewing with someone we all know.”

“Who?” my father asks.

“Richard, it’s not important.”

“She came home crying.” And then Richard turns to my father. “Do you remember Nolan Delaney?”

My father snorts. “How could I forget that scoundrel?”