Page 77 of Sweeter Than Fiction

I expect him to ask some follow-up questions, but nope. He just says, “That’s great,” and starts to lead us to what I assume is the kitchen.

Linking my fingers with Abby’s, I squeeze her hand to let her know I’m not going anywhere.

When we get in there, I see a woman standing in the kitchen. She is quite tall and thin with long blonde hair that hangs in loose curls. I see that she’s opening large carryout containers and dishing them out on plates. It looks like the typical Thanksgiving spread but made by some fancy restaurant.

Bill announces, “Look who’s here. And she brought someone.”

The woman looks up from what she’s doing toward me. Her eyes bounce back and forth between Abby and myself.

“Hello, Abigail,” she greets. “Who’s your friend?”

The way she says friend is extremely pointed as though she doesn’t believe Abby and I could possibly be more than that. I’m having none of that.

I step forward and hold out my hand, “I’m Donovan—Abby’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.”

She looks gob-smacked. “You are dating our little Abby?”

“Sure am.”

But now she’s MY Abby.

“Well, that’s…great,” she says with a smile that I’m positive she’s faking. “I’m Dina.”

Bill decides it’s a good time to step in. “Sorry, Donovan. You’re the first boy that Abigail has ever brought home, so we are just trying to process this whole thing.”

Dina laughs. “Yeah, for the longest time, we thought she was a lesbian.”

I look down and see Abby flicking the rubber band on her wrist. I totally get why she needs it now. These people could be crowned the king and queen of passive aggressive.

Trying to change the subject, I say, “The food smells wonderful.”

“Oh, thank you,” Dina says. “I wish I could take credit, but we always order from Giordano’s. The clean up is just so much easier.”

A deep voice comes walking into the room, saying, “The one time of year that we want Mom to cook, and she orders in.”

He and another man come walking in, and I assume these are Abby’s two brothers. They both look just like their parents: tall, thin, and blonde. All of them look like they should be a teen movie about vampires.

Not only did Abby not fit in with them personality-wise, but she doesn’t look like them. Her hair is a much darker shade of blonde, and her eyes are brown, not blue. Oh, and she’s not six feet tall. She stands a good foot shorter than everyone in this room.

With her the way that she is, I think she’s beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. But I have a feeling that this whole family made her feel a certain type of way about her looks for her entire life.

Both of her brothers come over and give her hugs and greet her by ‘Abby’ rather than ‘Abigail.” They both shake my hand and introduce themselves as Adam and Austin.

They seem way more relaxed than their parents. Neither of them talk down to Abby or say anything that would make her uncomfortable.

But every time, they try to engage her in conversation, Dina slides in with another snide comment.

Austin asks, “So, how’d you two meet?”

When Abby replies that we are neighbors, Dina asks me, “Oh, so was it just a lack of options? She was just easy?”

I reply, “Actually, we started hanging out just as friends, and I quickly realized how awesome she is. I wasted no time in making her my girl.”

Dina purses her lips together like she doesn’t believe me, but quite frankly, I don’t give a shit if she does or not. I’m here to support Abby—not kiss this woman’s ass.

When we all sit down at the table and start passing around the food, Abby picks and chooses what she wants to eat, only dishing out a few things onto her plate.

Bill asks, “Is that all you're going to eat, Abigail?”

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