I was freaked out about having dinner with Lance’s mom tonight. I knew it was the obvious next step since we were getting closer and closer. But that didn’t make it any less stressful.
I got off work a little earlier than usual so I could shower and get ready. Lance had tried to talk me into getting ready at his place, but I’d felt like I needed space so I could have my meltdown in private. My roommate wouldn’t butt into my business. We weren’t close, so he never pried into my life. At the moment he was in his room screeching at his computer screen while playing Overwatch online.
The one time I’d met Lance’s mom, she’d seemed warm and easy to talk to. Of course, her son and I hadn’t been dating yet. Perhaps tonight she’d be different because the circumstances had changed. She’d probably want to know all about my family and my past. I couldn’t blame her. That was what normal people did; they shared their history and bonded over things they had in common. It wasn’t her fault I hated talking about my past.
I wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror and stared at my reflection. God, I looked like I was about to have a stroke. My eyes were wild and my cheeks pink.
It’s just dinner. Calm the hell down.
I shaved and slapped on cologne; then I got dressed quickly. I didn’t want to be late so I hurried out of my apartment. The subway ride was uneventful, and by the time I showed up at Lance’s place I was slightly calmer. He opened the door and my stomach clenched at how handsome he was: his jeans hugged his lean thighs, and his dark eyes were sensual. Every time I saw him, he took my breath away.
He pulled me into his apartment and gave me a kiss. Then he held me at arm’s length as he studied my face. “It’s just dinner.”
“I know.”
“My mom will be nice.”
I clenched my jaw. “I’m sure of it.”
“I like you. That’s not going to change.” He squeezed my arm. “I’m not bringing you there to get her stamp of approval. I mean, yes, I want her to like you, but it’s not like if you two don’t immediately become besties, we’re over.”
I gave a stiff laugh. “Sure.” I ran a finger under my collar. “But you and your mom are close. If she hates me that would have to affect you.”
“She’s not gonna hate you. You’re too adorable.” He grinned, ruffling my hair.
I sucked in a deep breath, and I held out my hands as if steadying myself. “It’s just a couple of hours. I can do this.”
“Of course you can.” He opened the door, letting me go out first, and he smacked my ass when I passed him. “And afterward you’ll spend the night with me and I’ll fuck your brains out.”
My face heated and I looked around the hallway to make sure no one had heard him. “Shhh. I’m about to meet your mother. Don’t put those kinds of thoughts in my head.”
“I can’t help it. Those thoughts are always in my head when it comes to you.” He waggled his brows.
I rolled my eyes. “Is your mom someone who notices if I use the wrong fork?”
“My mom isn’t going to try and trip you up with cutlery. She doesn’t go in for fancy nonsense. She’s going to do her best to make this a relaxing, wonderful evening. I promise.”
“Okay.” I rubbed a shaky hand over my jaw. “Let’s do this.”
We rode the elevator up to his mom’s floor and walked the long, carpeted hallway in silence. Just before he rang the doorbell, he leaned in and kissed me firmly.
“You’re gonna be great.” His voice was husky, and his eyes were tinged with affection.
I nodded and he rang the buzzer.
After a short time, his mom opened the door. Pinky danced around at her ankles, and her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with curiosity. “Welcome, Scottie.” She surprised me when she pulled me in for a quick hug.
“Thank you.” My voice was muffled against her shoulder.
She let go, and then she kissed her son. “Welcome to you too, brat.”
Lance grinned. “Hello, Mumsy.”
She linked her arm through mine. “It’s so nice to finally spend a little time with you, Scottie. Lance dragged you out of here so quickly last time I didn’t get a chance to know you at all.”
“Yeah.” I smiled stiffly and tried not to trip over the excited dog.
“Do you boys want beer or wine?” She led the way toward the kitchen.
Lance’s hand was against the small of my back and it helped steady me a little. “Umm…” I didn’t want her to open a bottle of wine for just me, and I was so overheated a cold beer sounded good. But if she really wanted wine, I didn’t want her to not have wine. “Whatever is easiest.”
She winked at her son. “He’s so polite.”
Lance laughed and turned to me. “Beer?”
I nodded, relieved he’d made the decision. He took two out of the fridge, and he twisted off the caps. Then he handed me the chilled bottle, and I prayed my hand didn’t shake as I took a sip.
“I thought you’d have the food ready by now.” Lance leaned over the simmering pot.
She sighed. “I know. I was having a bad hair day and I got behind.”
“The food smells great.” My mouth watered as I inhaled the fragrant air. “I don’t have many home-cooked meals.”
“You don’t like to cook?” she asked.
“I do. But it’s just me so I don’t bother.” I lifted one shoulder. “My roommate lives on Cheetos and chocolate milk, so I don’t bother cooking for him.”
“This is an old family recipe. The secret is adding a dash of creamy horseradish. It brightens the flavor.” She stirred the pot as she spoke.
“Huh, that’s an interesting tip.” I smiled at her.
She put her finger to her lips. “Don’t tell anyone else.”
“I won’t.”
“Lance, will you pour me a glass of wine?” She dipped a spoon in the sauce, tasted it, and nodded her approval. “That’s coming along nicely.”
Lance put his hand on the wine rack. “Red or white?”
“Red.” She put a lid on the big iron pot and turned to me. “You’ve been at Paws For Care for a while now, haven’t you?” She smiled at me. “It seems like you’re up front more lately.”
I sighed and leaned against the counter near her. “Patty thinks it’s good for me to cover the desk every now and then.” I didn’t bother to add how much I hated it.
“Are you naturally shy?”
“I guess.”
“He’s not exactly shy.” Lance handed his mom a glass of dark red wine. “He’s wary.”
My cheeks warmed. “I’m wary?”
He nodded. “To me shy people are kind of timid and scared. You’re careful. Not scared.”
I gave a short laugh. “I never thought of it like that.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I’m full of hot air.”
“I know what you mean about shy seeming synonymous with timid.” His mom nodded as she faced me. “Do you feel like the more you work the front, the easier it gets?” She lifted her brows and sipped her wine.
“Kind of.” I grimaced. “I don’t think I’ll ever be great at it. I prefer being with the animals out back.”
Lance hugged me with one arm. “He’s my own little Doctor Dolittle.”
“Animals are amazing. They don’t judge.” She looked down at her pup, who was lying nearby watching us. “After my husband died, I don’t know what I would have done without Pinky. She was such a quiet, loving presence.”
“Hey, what about me?” Lance faked a frown.
She grinned at him. “You’re okay.”
He chuckled.
I was impressed with how comfortable they were with each other. I’d never had that easy camaraderie with my parents. Even before my being gay became an issue for them, there had always been a distance. For a long time I’d thought it was me, but I’d eventually realized they weren’t really close to anyone. We’d never had any family get-togethers with other relatives during the holidays.
“Shall we sit and visit while the food cooks?” She moved toward the sitting area, and we followed.
Lance sat next to me, and his mom sat across from us with Pinky in her lap. Her gaze was sharp as she studied me. I could sense she was curious, but maybe too polite to bombard me with questions. Lance put his arm along the back of the couch and it gave me a little comfort.
“Lance tells me you moved here from California?”
“Yes.” I glanced at him, and he smiled encouragingly. “I needed a change.”
She laughed. “Young people always say that. The older I get, the more I like things the same.”
“I didn’t move because I was seeking adventure or anything.” I grimaced. “I’m not sure how much Lance has told you about my past.”
He shifted next to me. “Not much.”
She didn’t pry. She just sipped her wine and smiled at me amiably. Maybe her willingness to not press me made me less worried about telling her a little about my past. “I was attacked.”
She frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“What made it worse was I knew the person, and they got away with it.” I took a long pull on my beer. I guess I was becoming a person who just shared my sad story on the drop of a dime. I had to admit it was a tiny bit easier saying it aloud after having already told Lance.
Lance squeezed my shoulder. “It was a hate crime.”
She scowled and set her glass down abruptly. “That’s despicable. What the heck makes another person think they have the right to judge or attack someone because they don’t approve of them?”
Her passion was obvious, and she reminded me of a protective mother bear. I couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks for caring, Mrs. Franklin.”
Her expression warmed. “Of course. And please, call me Bernadette.”
“Okay.”
“It’s upsetting to hear the person who attacked you wasn’t punished. The law can be a confusing thing. My late husband was a defense attorney, and he wrestled with how unfair things were on many occasions.”
“I had a rude awakening.” I sighed. “But I’m here now so…”
“Yes. Best to put that chapter behind you.” The doorbell rang and she frowned as she rose. “Who in the world could that be?”
We watched her cross the room to the door. When she opened it, a man around her age stood there holding a tennis racket. “Hey, Bernadette.” The man smiled and held the racket out to her. “I found that extra racket I told you about.”
“Oh. Well, look at that.” She smiled and took it from him.
“You said you played tennis, right?” He shifted uneasily, and he ran a hand over his salt-and-pepper hair.
“I used to.” She swung the racket through the air with a grin. “I was pretty good too.”
“I’ll bet.” He laughed. “You’re in great shape.”
She snorted and turned toward us. “Sam, would you like to meet my son, Lance, and his friend, Scottie?”
The older man poked his head in the door, and he grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your evening.”
“It’s fine.” Lance stood and approached Sam. “It’s great to meet you.” They shook hands.
I stayed where I was since I wasn’t sure if Sam really had any interest in meeting me. He looked like an okay guy. He was clean shaved, and his clothes were nice. I couldn’t tell from Lance’s body language if the idea of some strange dude hitting on his widowed mom bugged him.
“You want to come in and have some dinner with us?” Bernadette offered.
Sam looked pleased, but then he frowned. “Oh, I’d love to, but I have my meeting tonight.”
“Your AA meeting?” Bernadette asked cheerfully.
“Yep.” Sam held Lance’s gaze as he added. “Fifteen years sober.”
“Good job.” Lance slapped the older man’s shoulder. “You obviously take your sobriety seriously if you’re willing to pass up my mom’s cooking.”
Sam grinned. “Promise me you’ll ask me again?” He held Bernadette’s gaze. “If it was anything else, I’d cancel and stay here.”
Her smile was warm. “I respect that, Sam. Of course I’ll invite you again.”
“Only my AA meeting would be important enough to keep me away from spending the evening with a beautiful woman like you.”
She blushed. “Oh, pooh.”
He laughed, as if amused by her humility. “Maybe we can hit some balls around this weekend?” Even though he seemed pretty confident on the surface, his shoulders were stiff like he was nervous about asking her.
“Oh, um… sure.” Bernadette bit her lower lip.
“Great. Well, I’ll see you later. It was nice meeting you, Lance.” He leaned in and waved toward me. “You too, son.”
I sat up awkwardly. “Oh, thank you.”
Bernadette closed the door and returned to the sofa, and Lance had a big grin on his face. “You do realize he has the hots for you, right?”
Her face was pink. “Oh, hush. He just wants to play tennis.”
I laughed and met Lance’s amused gaze. “He was definitely flirting with you, Mrs. Franklin.”
The pink of her face deepened. “You’re crazy.” She grabbed her wine and took a big sip. “And I thought I told you to call me Bernadette, young man.”
“Oh. Sorry.” I met Lance’s knowing gaze. “I think she’s trying to change the subject.”
“She’s a master at changing the subject off herself.” He sighed. “How do you know Sam?”
“He’s in my Zumba class.” She got up and went into the kitchen.
“Really?” Lance looked surprised.
“Yep. He also lives in this building. We thought that was a funny coincidence. We had coffee after class once. Well, it was me, Sam, and another lady from the class. But it was fun. Sam’s a good man.”
“He seems nice.” Lance nodded.
“Oh, this sauce is coming along wonderfully.” She licked her lips after tasting a spoonful of the broth. “You’re in for a treat tonight, Scottie.”
“I can’t wait.”
Lance cleared his throat. “So do you like him at all, Mom?”
She glanced at me with a warm smile. “Of course. Scottie seems wonderful.”
Lance chuffed. “No. I wouldn’t ask that in front of Scottie. I mean do you like Sam?”
She blanched. “Oh, heavens, are we on that again?”
“There’s nothing wrong with maybe going on a date.” Lance’s voice was even.
“A date?” Her eyes widened. “Who said anything about a date?”
“What do you think playing tennis is all about?” He frowned.
“Just getting exercise.”
“He’s trying to spend time with you… probably,” I said softly.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She kept her eyes on the food.
“It’s been two years since Dad died.” Lance grimaced. “It’s not like going on a date would be scandalous.”
She set her spoon down with a clatter. “I don’t want to go on a date.” Her eyes were dark, and she looked rattled.
“Calm down. We’re just talking.”
“I’m perfectly happy not dating.” She gave her son a grumpy stare.
“I know it might be weird at first. But you’re a young woman. There’s no reason to be single your whole life.”
She wrinkled her brow. “Now I’m young? The other day you were warning me about how old ladies like me break our hips.”
“You know I didn’t mean that, and yes, you’re way too young to be alone forever.”
I was uncomfortable with Lance bringing all this up in front of me. It seemed like something he should have saved for when they were alone together. I stood. “I’m just going to use the bathroom.”
Lance nodded, but he seemed distracted. I headed toward the hallway, assuming I was smart enough to figure out where the bathroom was on my own.
The long hallway’s walls were covered with photos of Lance and his family. There were some of Lance on a pony and at birthday parties. My mom hadn’t been big on birthdays, so I’d rarely had anything like a party. I’d been lucky if she’d stuck a candle in a cupcake and even remembered it was my birthday. I had a little twinge of envy at how close his family had been. His parents had obviously been really engaged in his upbringing. No wonder he was so self-assured and confident.
I used the facilities, and then because Lance and his mom were still bickering about her going on a date with Sam, I took more time studying the photos. It wasn’t my place to give my opinion about whether or not I thought Bernadette should go on a date. If she wasn’t ready, she wasn’t ready.
I found some photos in the hall of Lance in high school. I grinned at his longer hair and bright tank tops. My chest hurt when I stumbled upon some photos of him and his dad. He talked about his father with real affection. In some of the more recent photos, the older man looked gaunt and hollow eyed. I felt awful for what the family must have gone through. I sought out some more photos of his dad from the other pictures on the wall, curious to see what his father must have been like when he was healthy.
I found a good grouping of him with Lance from a while back, and I studied the older man in the photos. As I continued to stare, something struck me as familiar about Lance’s father. An unsettling feeling crept up on me, and my heart began to pound as it slowly dawned on me why the older man looked so familiar to me. I stepped back from the photos, bumping into the opposite wall in shock.
“No,” I whispered. “There’s no fucking way.” I stared at Lance’s dad’s photo until my eyes watered. I shook my head over and over. “That’s not possible. That’s just not possible.”
My late husband was a defense attorney.
Bernadette’s words came back to me as sweat broke out on my forehead, and I leaned against the wall, afraid my legs were going to give out. I felt nauseated and my clammy hands shook as I covered my face. This couldn’t be happening. This. Could. Not. Be. True. I dropped my arms and studied the man in the photos as my gut clenched. I’d never forget his dark eyes staring across the court at me, or his booming, deep voice filling the courtroom as he tore apart my character piece by aching piece.
It was hard to breathe as I grappled with how cruel life was. I’d finally met a man who made me feel like I could put my past behind me forever, and now this? Until that exact moment, I’d believed Lance was the best thing that had ever happened to me.
But gaping at the smiling face of his father in the photos, I now realized that in a torturous twist of fate, his dad was the man that had helped Garrett get away with almost killing me.