“Come on.”
He leads me out of the store, everyone waving and saying their polite goodbye’s to the local sheriff, while shoot me sidelong glances as they whisper to each other.
We walk down Main Street, Merrick gripping my hand like he will never let go, and as we approach a corner, I see an older couple across the street, chatting with a woman and a young girl about my age, outside a diner with a sign above: The Over Easy.
“Merrick…” I stop, barely able to breathe. I’ve been a thief of sorts, a grifter, a user for so long…I can’t belong in this fairytale life. Especially not with the sheriff of the town. He’ll lose the respect of the community and maybe his job…
I feel like my insides are being rearranged. The thought of not being with Merrick is already bringing burning tears to my eyes but it’s so real all of a sudden. So normal.
The older couple looks our way and waves, and Merrick gives them a wave in return.
I feel so out of place it’s all I can do to not turn and run in the opposite direction, but Merrick just squeezes my hand and gives me a smile.
“They’re going to love you.” Merrick leans down and kisses me, long and slow, and for a moment I believe in everything, and I feel strong.
“I hope so.”
We cross the street, and I’m immediately clutched into embraces and given introductions as everyone smiles and laughs, pulling me into the warm, wonderful energy of people who obviously love and care about each other, with no agenda other than the bonds of family and friendship.
“You’ve been hiding this lovely young woman from us for how long?” Merrick’s father, Merrick Sr., puts his arm around me.
“No interrogations,” Merrick answers, playfully taking his father's arm from me and replacing it with his own.
“Old habits,” his mother says, pulling her husband’s hand into hers. “You take the badge off the man, but some things never change. Don’t make too much of our silliness, Kezia…and by the way, what a beautiful name. Is that a family name?”
“No ma’am. I’m not sure where it came from. I know I was born not far from here, but I was adopted so I don’t know much else.”
The woman to my left, Margaret, suddenly freezes, staring at me, and I lean into Merrick, feeling like I’m under the spotlight. The younger woman more my age to her left, with unicorn rainbow hair, smiles, and her fairy-like look is contrasted with an all-black ensemble and heavy combat boots.
“I know what it’s like to have an unusual name,” she says. “My mom was a bit of a hippie back in the day. And, geez, man, you’re eyes are amazing. I can barely stop looking at them…”
“Thanks.” I leave it at that as we all head into the diner where they have a big table waiting. Turns out, Margaret owns the place and Merrick set it up earlier today just so I could meet the people that are important in his life.
I’m quiet for a bit as we take our seats. They are all so familiar with each other, lovingly joking and chiding each other while we wait for our food, but after a few minutes I start to relax.
His parents are relationship goals. They kiss and can’t stop touching each other and it’s clear they are proud of Merrick. They ask simple, kind questions of me, just enough to show they are interested, but staying far away from the feeling of interrogation.
“Here we go.” An enormous man and two waitresses come over with trays of food, and start to set the family-style meal down the center of the table.
“So, Kezia, what is it you do? Or what would you like to do now that you’re here in Millington?” Merrick’s mom, Belinda asks.
I look at the generous helpings of every sort of comfort food. It’s been so long since I was allowed to eat unsupervised, my mouth is watering while my stomach gnaws on itself, ready for the delicious-smelling meal being laid out.
“Well, I mean, I love to dance. I’ve always wanted to teach. Maybe,” I say, hesitating on a shrug before going on, “like, a little dance school for kids or something? I don’t know, I’ve never really thought of what I would want.”
“Well, you’re going to need to do a lot of that now.” Merrick takes my hand, pulling it to his mouth and kissing my knuckles.
“Man.” Margaret gives him a smile. “You do go from zero to a hundred in the blink of an eye.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” his father chimes in. “I knew the minute I set my eyes on Belinda here she was mine. She was a girl from another town, passing through, but I knew. I knew when I saw her with her parents, having a picnic in the park, when I was a deputy and—”