They’re already sitting at the table when I arrive, sipping on water and looking through the menu. Mom’s looking great, she’s done something new with her hair, I think. Dad looks tired but that’s nothing new. I go around and kiss my mother’s cheek. The familiar smell of her perfume fills my nostrils.

“How’s work,” Dad asks. Typical. Straight to the point and never one for chit chat. His brow is furrowed and his skin looks pale.

“Aren’t you going to ask about how your son is before you start grilling him about work?” Mum scolds, tutting quietly.

I don’t know how she puts up with him sometimes.

“I’m fine, thank you for asking, Mom,” I say with a smile. “And work is coming along great, actually.

“I’ll have the steak,” Dad tells the waiter who has actually come for our drinks order.

“Darling, you know Dr. Goldstein told you no red meat,” Mom says quietly.

“Oh, for goodness sake,” Dad says huffily and slams closed the menu. “I don’t know what I’m allowed to eat, anymore. All these lists of forbidden foods and activities. What kind of a life is this?” He hands the menu to the bemused-looking waiter and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Would anybody like anything to drink?” he asks awkwardly.

I order a beer, Mom get a G&T for her and Dad.

The waiter goes off and Dad looks like he’s been kicked in the balls by a donkey.

“Your hair looks nice, Mom, did you do something to it?” I ask.

She pats her hair and smiles softly. There are new shadows of worry under her kind eyes now. “Oh, you noticed. Yes, I got it cut. Your Dad thinks it’s too short, but I love it.”

“It looks great,” I say, “Don’t listen to him.” I wink at her, trying desperately to lighten the mood.

Dad stands up and wanders off to the restrooms and I wait until he’s out of earshot.

“Jeez, Mom, what is up with him? You guys just got back from your vacation a week ago, I thought he’d had a great time?”

“He did. We did,” she says, nodding. “But you know what he’s like. He thought relaxing in a spa resort for a week would solve everything and he’d be able to get back to work again. A few massages and saunas then everything would be fixed. But we went for a check-up yesterday and the doctor told him absolutely no.” She glances around and whispers, “He even mentioned the R word.”

My eyebrows rise. “The R word?”

“Retirement,” she mutters.

“Really?” I lean back against my chair and can’t imagine my dad not working.

“Personally, I don’t think he should go back to work,” she confides in me. “He just can’t take the stress anymore. His heart can’t. I want him to be around for as long as possible...”

“I’m sorry Mom, it must be so hard for you. I can see he’s not great company at the moment. Who would have thought he had it in him to be even more difficult than he usually is! I thought he was going to bite your head off when you mentioned no red meat.”

Dad gets back to the table. “Well, she’s late,” Dad says.

“Lauren’s not late, Dad. We’re early,” I say, checking my watch.

Dad’s reply is a grunt.

“I’m so looking forward to meeting her, Jackson,” Mom says to me, smiling, always trying to keep the peace. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us about her.” She pats my hand affectionately. “Maybe you’ll take her to David’s wedding?”

“Maybe,” I say, “But it’s very early.” I can’t think of anything better than showing her off at the wedding. I’m sure she’d look absolutely stunning on my arm. But I’m not getting Mom all excited and start embarrassing me tonight.

Then I turn my head and see her.

She’s walking towards our table, smiling in that gorgeous way of hers…and she looks stunning. In a tight sweater that shows off her delectable curves, fitted skirt, and black boots.

What I really want to do is drag her into one of the toilet cubicles and fuck her, but I stand and greet her with a chaste kiss her on the cheek.

“Hey, you,” she whispers, her lip brushing my ear and encouraging me to carry on in my inappropriate line of thinking.

“Lauren, meet my parents. George and Judy.”

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Miller. So lovely to meet you.” Her voice is breathless and her smile is slightly vulnerable. I realize that she is nervous. She shakes my Dad’s hand and gives Mom a peck on the cheek, then she takes the empty seat next to me.

I squeeze her hand under the table. It feels way too early to be doing this and I hope it’s not going to put her off.

“So, Lauren, tell us about you! I love your necklace, how pretty. Is it from someone special? And what beautiful eyes you have. Are they green or hazel? I can’t quite tell. So, Jackson tells us you’re his next-door neighbor. How funny. My sister met her husband that way. Have you been there long?”

“Mom, calm down,” I tell her. I don’t want to scare away Lauren.

“It’s ok,” Lauren says, smiling at me and then back to Mom, “Thanks. And actually yes, this necklace is very special to me. It was my grandmother’s. She gave it to me before she died. And I’ve been living at that address for about two years now.”

I look at her delicate fingers, fiddling with the silver pendant in the shape of a rose.

“And what do you do for a living, Lauren?” Dad asks before Mom can say anything else.

“I work in a firm that specializes in sustainable business solutions. We help companies change their work flow, which not only increases their profits, but also helps the environment.”

“That sounds like very important work,” Mom chips in.

“What kind of education do you have?” Dad fires again.

Now, I’m remember why I never introduce women to my parents.

“Actually, I didn’t finish school until two years ago. I had to study part time,” she replies.

I’m proud of her for not letting him fluster her.

“My father was going through some financial difficulties so I had to start work in order to pay for my studies.”

“An independent woman,” Mom says, giving me a wink. “You’ll have to watch out for this one Jackson.”

“Where on earth is the waiter?” Dad says, changing the subject yet again.

Mom manages to catch someone’s attention and soon a frightened-looking kid with a name badge that reads Timothy approaches us.

I immediately feel sorry for him. I bet it’s his first day. As I expected Dad grills him about the menu and moans about Mom telling him he can’t eat what he wants to.

“We’ll both have the salmon,” Mom tells waiter firmly, but she’s smiling, as always, trying to keep the peace. Although I’m sure, Dad has never been this grouchy before. “Can you hold the butter, and we’ll have green veg on the side instead of the buttered potatoes as well please.”

The guy at the next table is having the steak with buttered potatoes and I swear he’s smirking at me. Bastard. “Salmon and green veg sounds great to me,” I say cheerfully. “Make it three.”

“Make that four,” Lauren says, and I could have kissed her right there and then.