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“Yep, that’s me! How’s the new house?”
“I love it. The remodel took a few months, but now it feels like home.”
“Is Mowwy your wife?” Sammy asks, her little brow furrowing.
We all laugh. “No, she’s not. We’re friends and we work together,” I explain.
Penny crosses her arms and looks between me and Molly with a skeptical expression. “Are you going to make her your wife, though?”
Drew pats her on the head and casually places one of his hands over her mouth. “Anyway … really glad you’re here for family dinner. It’s not usually this fancy.”
Molly smiles like she’s trying not to laugh. My parents enter the room from the kitchen. Dad is carrying a bottle of wine in each hand, and Mom has a Christmassy floral arrangement.
“Oh, you’re here!” Mom sets the flowers on the table near the candles and then fusses with her sweater. “Thanks for joining us, Molly!”
Dad looks grouchy but manages a small smile. “Welcome to our home.”
He gives Mom a weird look that makes me wonder if they’d just been arguing in the kitchen. Probably.
“Thank you for having me. Your home is gorgeous,” Molly says, glancing around the room.
My parents’ house is old, so, of course, Molly would love it. She’s been here with me before, but only for brief errands. She’s never seen this much of the inside.
“Of course!” My mother preens at her compliment. “Everything is ready, so go ahead and have a seat.” She gestures toward the table and we all sit down.
Dad sits at the head of the table and Mom is on his right-hand side. Sophie is on his left, Drew beside her. The girls are next to him, so I take a seat next to Mom and Molly sits beside me.
It feels good to have her here with my family. It's all too easy for me to picture spending every family dinner with her … watching her interact with my family … living our lives together. And that thought is just another reason why I never bring her to family dinners. The last thing I need is my feelings for her becoming even stronger than they already are. But we’re already fake-dating, so all my carefully placed boundaries are out the window now.
We pass the food around the table and fill our plates.
”Oh, I almost forgot!” I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a large bag of Sour Patch Kids and set them on the table.
They’re Sophie’s favorite. She squeals and reaches for them. “Have I mentioned you’re my favorite brother?” she teases.
Drew rolls his eyes.
“Brooks Windell! What is that??” My mother demands.
“You told me I had to bring something since I couldn't help with the cooking.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She glares at the bag of candy. “Molly is going to think we’re animals!”
Molly laughs. “No, I only think Brooks is an animal.” She nudges me with her elbow. “He’s the one who introduced me to junk food.”
“You’re welcome,” I tell her. “Molly didn’t even know what McDonald’s was before she met me. And she hadn’t seen any good movies. The only reason I stayed friends with her was because she’d at least seen Ducktales.”
Sophie, who’s happily chowing down on the candy and ignoring the food on her plate, starts to giggle and sing the theme song for Ducktales. I join in and Molly, Drew, and my parents look at us like we’re insane.
“What kind of films did your family enjoy?” Mom asks, leaning over so she can see Molly.
“My parents felt like television should only be used educationally … So the few times we watched movies, they were in French or Spanish. We were also allowed to watch adaptations of classic literature, such as Pride and Prejudice and Anne of Green Gables.”
“So then how’d you discover Ducktales?” Sophie asks, popping another Sour Patch Kid into her mouth. Drew brings a fork full of green beans up to her mouth and she shoos his hand away.
“When my parents traveled or entertained, we'd have a nanny. One of them, Gertrude, was pretty lenient about TV. She’d let us watch it before bed if we promised not to tell.” Molly laughs and everyone joins her.
There’s a pause in conversation while we eat. Dad takes a sip of wine and clears his throat. “Brooks, how’s your knee replacement design coming along?”
