The Grump I Despise (When In Waverly 3)

Colby

Today has been an exhausting day. Fridays usually are. It’s hard to get the students to focus by the end of the week, and with spring break coming up soon, it’s that much worse. I’m just glad the week is done, and I can go home and stare into the abyss for a while and ponder my life choices. I love teaching, but sometimes, it’s a little much.

Norah rushes into my classroom, biting her lip in a worried way. The instant I see her, my entire mood shifts. Everything feels lighter and brighter, and the day’s problems seem insignificant.

“Okay, you don’t have to come. I tried to tell her you might be busy, but she’s crazy, ya know. It will only be family—well, Madeline might bring her bum of a boyfriend…” she rambles on, and my brain frantically tries to catch up with her. I have no idea what she’s talking about. Am I supposed to already know about whatever it is, and I’ve somehow forgotten?

“Whoa, slow down, lady. I need you to back it up a step or ten,” I say.

“Sorry. My mom wants you to come to dinner tonight—at our house, I mean. She’s pretty insistent about it, actually. I’m so sorry. I know you’re not my actual boyfriend like everyone thinks, so you probably have a million other things you’d rather be doing on your Friday night. My mom doesn’t even cook. She’s probably going to make a jarred pasta sauce. You know what, I’ll just tell her you already have plans with your friends. Don’t worry about it,” she says without ever giving me a chance to say anything. She waves a hand at me and turns to leave my room.

I chuckle as I chase after her and catch her around the waist. I spin her around to face me, and her face is flaming red. I lean down to kiss both her cheeks, and her breathing halts until I let go of her.

“So, what time do I need to be there?” I ask. Her entire face brightens.

“Are you serious? You’ll come?” she asks, bouncing on her tiptoes. I bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. She’s adorable. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited about having dinner with their family. And knowing that I’m the reason she’s excited makes it even better.

“Of course. How many times do I have to tell you? I like you.” I’m tempted to pull her back in for a real kiss to show her exactly how much I like her, but we’re on school grounds. Anyone could walk in. Principal Spears could walk in. While she is happy about our relationship, she was also very clear about her expectations, and PDA on school grounds is expressly forbidden.

“At least once more,” she laughs. “Six o’clock. Don’t be late.” She’s walking out the door and turns around to look at me one last time before leaving. She’s way too good for me.

My heart pounds as I knock on the door of Norah’s parents’ house. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and turn to look at the headlights that are now shining directly on me. I watch as Norah’s younger sister, Layla, climbs out of her car, getting home from work. She walks up to me and opens the front door. “Come on in,” she says, looping her arm through mine and pulling me inside with her. I’ve only met her in passing a few times, and she’s already treating me like I’m part of the family. I hope the rest of the family will be as welcoming.

“Norah!” she shouts up the stairs. She’s so loud I think she has just burst my eardrum. “Your man-candy is here!”

A rush of footsteps sound behind us, and she whirls us around. Norah is standing in the doorway of what appears to be the kitchen with her arms crossed. “Could you not, Layla?!” She’s wearing a colorful, floral-print apron and holding a spoon covered in some kind of sauce.

Layla finally lets go of my arm and then pushes me on the back toward Norah. I grab her upper arm and lean down to kiss her cheek. “Hello, lady,” I whisper in her ear. Layla scoots around us into the kitchen, and we hear her mom, Diane, fussing at her for stealing food off the counter a moment later. Norah’s face splits into a huge grin.

“Come say hi to my mom and dad,” she says. She takes hold of my hand, and I hope she doesn’t notice how clammy it is. My nerves have been getting the better of me all afternoon, ever since she invited me over. If her family is anything like her, I have nothing to worry about.

I follow behind her into the kitchen/dining room where most of her family is already gathered. “Mom, Colby’s here!” Norah announces. Diane comes over and gives my hand a motherly squeeze.

“It’s good to see you again,” she says. “And I’ll actually get to talk to you, unlike when my daughter so rudely rushed out the door when you picked her up last week.” She gives Norah a pointed glance, but Norah ignores her.

She pulls me over to where her dad is sitting at the bar area, cutting up vegetables for salad. She wraps her arm around my waist, and my stomach immediately clenches at the contact. She has never initiated any sort of touch like this before. But I have to stay calm because I’m meeting her father!

“Daddy, I’m sure you already know, but this is Colby,” she says. He looks up from the cutting board and puts the knife down before reaching his hand out to shake my hand. “Colby, this is my dad, Bobby,” she looks at me and says.

“Nice to officially meet you,” Mr. Bobby says as we shake hands. He walks over to a drawer and grabs a knife. Is he about to stab me for dating his daughter? Then, he reaches down into a cabinet and takes out a cutting board. He sets them both down on the bar beside him and says, “Come help me chop these vegetables, and we can have a talk.”

I take a deep breath and mentally prepare myself to get grilled for the next half hour. I would expect nothing less from a man trying to protect his daughter. Heaven knows I gave plenty of men, including my best friend, the third degree when my sister, Hannah, was dating. Thank goodness she’s happily married now, and I don’t have to worry about that anymore.

I sit down beside him, grab the knife and a cucumber, and start chopping. I glance over at Norah as she sets the table and laughs at something with her mom and sisters. She looks completely at ease and happy here surrounded by her family in her own environment.

“I guess you know the difficulties my daughter has faced over the past year?” her dad asks in a hushed voice. I nod my head in confirmation. It’s difficult to see the lively, vivacious woman standing across the room from me and picture her in poor health. Her curvy figure and flushed cheeks scream of health and happiness. It’s the only Norah I’ve ever known. I can’t imagine how difficult it was for her family to see Norah’s light diminish from her eyes while she was sick. But I know watching her overcome her illness must have also brought so much pride and joy to her parents. I didn’t see her go through it, but looking at her now, I’m so proud of her. So happy for her.

“Good, I’m glad she trusts you enough to have told you about it. She doesn’t like to talk about it. Thinks people will view her as weak,” Bobby continues. He places his knife on the counter and folds his hands in front of him. “I know you’re a good man, that you don’t date around, but I want to make sure you have my daughter’s best interests at heart. She’s already been through enough, so if you don’t plan to stick around, then please don’t lead her on with fancy gestures and false promises.”

I take a moment to hear his words and think about my response. He’s right, of course. Norah has had a year from hell. She doesn’t need someone coming in and making things harder for her. Sure, she’s a strong woman who can obviously handle a lot, but am I making things easier or more difficult for her? I don’t know. Is dating me a fun experience for her or just another stressor for her to manage?

“I’m not sure what all Norah has told you about us,” I start.

“Not much at all,” he interjects.

“We didn’t get along growing up. Hated each other, actually. When she came back, I was…not happy. But the more time I’ve spent with her, the more I’ve realized I was an idiot when I was a teenager. I care about your daughter a lot, and I just want to try to make her happy.”

He smiles at me for a moment before saying, “Who am I to stand in the way of love?” He claps me on the shoulder and turns to pick his knife back up.