Page 94 of The Disasters of Dating
“You like eighties music, don’t you?” Keaton finally asks.
“How can you tell?” I ask.
He grins and glances at me. “You know all the words to every song that’s been on.”
“The eighties were my dad’s favorite. We listened to them all the time. I kept listening to them after he died because they reminded me of him. But I guess they sort of won me over in the end.”
He smiles and picks up my hand. “You’ll not get any argument from me. I love most eighties music.”
I squeeze his hand. “I knew I liked you for some reason. It’s because you have good taste.”
He gives me a look. “Yes, yes, I do.”
The traffic is much lighter than when we drove down to American Fork. Slightly less than thirty minutes later, we pull into the driveway of the only home I’ve ever known. I’m surprised there aren’t many carsparked on the street. But maybe everyone carpooled? Are people that are socially conscious about the hungry also socially conscious about the environment?
I wait as he comes around and opens my door. “I’ll be quick.”
He tilts his head to the side and grins. “Will you be braiding your hair also?”
A smile turns the side of my lips, and I raise a brow. “Do you want me to braid my hair?”
His face turns pink. “I like your hair this way, too, but I’ll admit to missing the braids. I can see your face better. And that’s always most desirable.”
My stomach flip flops. How am I having doubts about this guy? Most girls would think he’s perfect. But maybe that’s the problem? What am I not seeing?
I push the thoughts aside and take his hand, pulling him toward the door. “Why don’t you come in, and you can wait in the family room? My mom is having a meeting, but I’d guess they are in the living room. And with my mom occupied, you shouldn’t have to face any embarrassing questions.”
He gives me a side eye. “Are you embarrassed of me?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m embarrassed by the questions she’ll ask you.”
He squeezes my hand lightly and doesn’t pull away, so I stay the course.
I push open the front door and put my finger to my lips. “Shh. Maybe if we’re quiet, she won’t even notice we’ve come and gone.”
He smiles and nods as he walks with a Scooby Doo type of sneaking.
I put a hand over my mouth to quiet my laughter. He looks so goofy. I love that he doesn’t try to hide that side of his personality.
I stop when we get inside. The entryway and front room are nearly dark, as they face the east and the sun is sinking lower in the west. “That’s weird,” I say. “I thought for sure they would be in this room.”
I walk a few more steps, pulling him along behind me. The house is altogether too quiet for a committee meeting to be happening. Pulling him down the hallway, I stop short, and he bumps into my back.
The family room is dark also, but the TV is on. Did the meeting get cancelled? Is my mom having a movie night alone? That’s so sad.
“Wait here a second,” I whisper as I drop Keaton’s hand and I take the last few steps into the family room. “Hey, Mom. Did your meetingget cancelled?” And then I notice two heads pop up above the couch cushions.
“What?” I say.
My mom and some strange guy sit up straight, both of them wiping at their mouths and looking very guilty. Ewww.
I lean over and flick on the lamp, my mouth hanging open. “Mom?”
“Poppy, what are you doing here? I thought you had plans tonight.” There’s a panicked tone to her voice, but she is trying very hard to appear normal and unperturbed.
I blink several times, then focus my gaze on the gentleman nearly sitting on my mom’s lap. “I do have plans. But these pants of Paisleigh’s are super uncomfortable, so I came home to change before we go do something else.” I step forward and reach out my hand. “Hi. I’m Poppy. And you are?” I’m rather impressed with my manners. I’d have thought they’d be the first thing to flee at a moment like this.
The man pulls his arm out from behind my mom’s shoulders as he stands up. He extends his hand. “Hello, Poppy. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He smiles warmly.
