Page 97 of Flirting with Forever

“You brought a man to meet us?” Naomi asked carefully, a strange light in her eyes as she looked back and forth between John and Mary.

“She’s torn between celebrating the fact that I won’t die a spinster and reaming me out for bringing you over when she’s wearing her after-dinner robe,” Mary translated, turning to John.

Naomi pinched her lips together before she stepped forward for a handshake. “Well, I have to admit this isn’t exactly how I pictured meeting Mary’s beau.”

“Well, I pictured you calling me to apologize for your behavior, so I guess we can’t all get what we want, can we, Mom?”

Naomi blanched and took a step back. “I’m going to change my clothes and get your father. Mary, why don’t you bring John into the sitting room?”

Mary grabbed John’s hand and dragged him through a dining room, the kitchen and then back to a darkened living room area, where an episode of a television show was paused on the screen.

Mary collapsed onto the couch and dragged John down with her. “Holy crap,” John muttered.

“Yeah.” Mary pinched the bridge of her nose again. “I never imagined she would lie to my dad like that. I mean, I was starting to wonder why he wasn’t texting or calling, but I never thought...”

“Okay.” John rubbed at his forehead for a moment, then dropped his hand, realizing that Mary knew his tell and not wanting to imply that any of this was too stressful for him. He organized his thoughts in his brain. “Mary, I want to be whatever you need right now. If you need me to sit stoically by your side, I’m there. If you need me to hold your hand and laugh at their jokes and pretend everything is just dandy, I’ll do it. It’ll be really hard for me not to defend you, because that’s kind of my knee-jerk reaction, but for you, I’ll—”

“Are you nuts? Defend me! It’s been six years since I had Tiff defend me to my mother’s face. I’m dying out here. What’s the point of dating a public defender if he won’t even defend you to your mother?”

John burst out laughing. “Fair enough. Defending you it is. And then we leave.”

“Perfect.”

Mary sagged onto John’s shoulder, her palm pressing against his sternum for just a moment in that absent way of hers, seeking his heartbeat out. God, he loved that.

They both straightened, however, when a few moments later her parents came into the room. Her father plunking hard into an armchair on one side of Mary, and Naomi perching prettily on the edge of the chair next to John. They’d both changed out of their pajamas, and Naomi looked as if she’d taken the time to gather herself together, but Mary’s father looked like he was about ten seconds from bursting into tears.

“John, I didn’t get a chance to introduce you before, but this is my father, Trevor Trace. Dad, this is my boyfriend, John Modesto-Whitford.”

Trevor leaned across Mary and gave John a brisk handshake. “I’m sorry that you have to be introduced to Mary’s family in such dramatic fashion.”

Naomi laughed uncomfortably from her chair. “It doesn’t have to be dramatic,” she said in a stilted, singsongy tone of voice, as if she were warning her husband and daughter not to embarrass her.

John nearly rolled his eyes. As far as he was concerned, she’d already embarrassed herself with the way she’d been treating her daughter.

“So,” Trevor said as he cleared his throat, apparently determined to make the most of Mary’s visit. “How did you two meet?”

John took his opportunity, lacing his fingers with Mary’s. “My mother is a good friend of Mary’s, and an artisan who works with Mary’s shop.”

“She set you up?” Naomi asked pointedly, and John was sure she was thinking of her own attempt to set Mary up.

“No,” John said, shaking his head. “She tried, but those things never work out. Mary and I found our way to one another on our own eventually, without any meddling.”

Naomi pursed her lips and sat back. “How long have you been together?”

“Just a month or so,” Mary said casually. “But we had feelings for a while before we got together.”

John couldn’t help but turn to Mary and smile, unfolding her fingers to kiss her palm.

“Have you thought about what the future holds for you two?” Of course this was Naomi’s next question. John should have guessed.

“Naomi,” Trevor warned. “Don’t go there.”

“It’s an innocent question!”

John defended the innocent on a regular basis and he knew, in every molecule of his being, that there was absolutely nothing innocent about the question she’d just asked.

“What the future holds for us?” John mused.Prospect Park to watch the leaves change colors. Thanksgiving at Estrella’s house—and hopefully not here. Sweating over what to get Mary for Christmas. The joy of watching Mary bundle herself into winter gear. Rejoicing when spring comes again because then summer will be around the corner and we will be able to celebrate our one-year anniversary.“Oh, just being together, mostly.”

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