“Would you be jealous?”
She bobs her head up and down.
“Then, no.” I shoot Fiona a smile and she winks at me. If only. Tucking those thoughts away I lead them on to the porch. I can hear my father and brother’s shouting at the game. I know Fiona hates football. Glancing at her before opening the door she is already grimacing.
“Hey, you’ve met my family before,” I remind her.
“Yeah, but this…it feels different. I feel like you are bringing me home to meet the folks or something. I mean, it feels weird, doesn’t it?”
I shrug. “You’re just weird.”
Before she can reply my niece is shoving me through the door. “Uncle Dev brought a girl.” She sticks her tongue out after making her announcement as she kicks her shoes off then darts up the stairs to her room to play.
The volume lowers on the TV as my family stares at Fiona and me standing in the doorway.
“Well don’t just stand there letting all the heat out. Come in and stay a while,” my old man says.
Closing the door, I urge Fiona further inside the entryway as she avoids tripping over Carly Belle’s shoes. “You all remember Fiona.”
My mom comes out from the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron. Her hands clasp in front of her and she coos, “How wonderful. Such a great surprise.” My brothers wave and grunt in greeting returning their attentions back to the screen. “You two are just in time to help me set the table. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starved.” I pat my stomach and remove my jacket.
Fiona
In the kitchen helping Mrs. Sullens, I find myself missing my own mother and feeling guilty that I haven’t called her lately. I should call her, but I am not in the mood to hear I told you so. That’s exactly what she will say if I make her aware of my situation. Lying to her is an option, but I have never been big on being dishonest to a point (I do tell the occasional white lie). My mother raised me better than that. I may have grown up poor but my mother instilled in me to have integrity. I don’t know how many people Devlyn’s mom invited to dinner but she cooked for an army.
There’s ham, turkey, chicken, and so many side dishes to choose from as Dev and I help her set up the buffet on the counter. There is no way all this food would fit on the dining table.
“You okay?” Devlyn asks, placing both hands on my shoulders from behind me. His breath tickles the shell of my ear and travels down my spine as his cologne wraps around me. Musky and so manly. It’s all I can do not to turn and melt into his arms.
“Never better,” I say with a tense smile. I can’t stop thinking about how easy it would be to be more than friends with him. How good of a man he is. The way he treats his mother with so much respect is heartwarming and sweet. “I need to use the bathroom.” I excuse myself needing some space. Being so close to him is clouding my head.
Discreetly, I slip into the bathroom by the back door. I’ve met Devlyn’s family a few times so I don’t kno
w why aim making such a big deal out of being here. I’m being dumb about the whole thing. After a few deep breaths, I return from my time out and find everyone is taking their seats at the table along with a few other guests who must have arrived while I was having my pep talk.
“Auntie Gert, this is Fiona.” Dev introduces me to an elderly woman with purple curls that cling to her head from being rolled so tightly.
“This the girlfriend I hear so much about?” She questions as her grey eyes narrow in on me as though she is assessing me.
“She’s a good friend.” He grins at me and I don’t know what to say. Does he talk about me like I am his girlfriend? Does he insinuate that we are an item? The idea doesn’t bother me as much as it should. I know Devlyn is too good for me, but what if I could be good enough for him? As I watch him smiling at his family, I know deep down a part of me wants to be.
Dev pulls out my chair, placing me between his oldest brother, Franklin and himself.
“Fiona, you sure you and him aren’t a thing?” Frank instigates as he pours me a glass of wine. “Because if not, Randall could use a date. Hasn’t been laid since he divorced Kathy.”
I choke on my wine and Devlyn pats me on the back as their mother gives me a cheeky grin.
“My sex life is not appropriate for dinner talk,” Randall sneers with flaming cheeks.
“What’s sex?” Carly Belle ponders as she stabs a piece of ham with her fork.
“Grown up talk,” Mrs. Sullens tells her.
“Why does my daddy need it?” She presses.
“Hush, Carly. Eat your peas,” Mr. Sullens says in a gruff tone indicating he isn’t amused by his son’s antics.