Page 14 of Take A Number
Dean shakes his head and opens the gate. “It’s going to be fine. Let’s go have some fun.”
“Everyone keeps telling me to have fun,” I hiss, my hands clenching into fists by my sides. “What part of a bougie backyard barbecue with a bunch of sixty-year-old yuppies sounds fun?”
Dean’s shoulders shake with laughter, and the scent of his cologne engulfs me as he leans in to whisper in my ear. “Norah, you look seriously beautiful tonight. Please try to relax.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and ignore the shivers running down my neck from his hot breath on my flesh. He gestures for me to walk ahead, and my errant butterflies disappear because my parents’ backyard looks like it’s hosting a large wedding, not the intimate party for their close friends my mother described.
“She got a live band?” I croak in amazement as I recognize a cover song from Bryan Adams. My brows lift with amazement. My mother may be uptight, but she’s also the one who passed along the love of seventies and eighties power ballads, so this is actually pretty impressive.
However, the moment I see she’s hired servers in bow ties, who are probably sweating their asses off in this eighty-degree weather, her cool factor is blown to smithereens.
Dean rests his hand on the small of my back. “No back touches,” I hiss into his ear as goose bumps erupt up my spine. My body is seriously betraying me tonight, and I don’t need him getting handsy, making me even more of a mess than I already am.
“Sorry, I was only leaning in to ask if your mother knew I was coming?”
My eyes fly wide, and I whirl around to face him. “Oh my God, I was going to text her and completely forgot.”
Dean smiles while glancing over my shoulder. “I wondered because the woman coming toward us who has your eyes is currently staring at me like I have two heads.”
“Norah!” My mother’s voice peals from behind me, and I turn too quickly on my heel and damn near face-plant.
Dean’s warm hands engulf my waist to help stabilize me as she approaches.
“Hi, Mom. Happy Anniversary.” I pull out of Dean’s embrace and lean in to give her a tense hug.
“Who is this, pumpkin? Your Uber driver?”
I jerk back. “No, Mom. This is Dean.”
“Who is Dean?” she asks, her eyes widening like she’s going to cast a spell on me.
“Dean is my date.” I plaster on a smile and think I hear my teeth crack. “Dean, this is my mother, Elaine Donahue.”
My mother’s jaw flaps open and closed repeatedly like those ridiculous talking bass fish that pop out from the walls. “I…I didn’t know you were bringing anyone. You never—”
“Surprise!” I shoot her another toothy smile.
Dean reaches his hand out to my mother. “Mrs. Donahue, best wishes to you on your anniversary. Thirty-five years is incredible. We could all be so lucky.”
My mother wavers for a moment at a rare loss for words, and thankfully my father arrives to save her just in time. “Pumpkin, you look splendid.” He pulls me in for a hug, and I swear I feel him forcing me to exhale. “Who is this young man with you tonight?”
“Dean Moser, sir.” Dean reaches out and shakes my father’s hand. “Congratulations on your anniversary.”
“Thank you very much. My name is Jeffrey, but please, call me Jeff.” My dad reaches around and claps Dean on the back. “You’re a brave soul for coming to a gathering like this. These people will eat you alive.”
Dean laughs with ease and gestures toward me. “That’s why I brought a bodyguard. Have you seen your daughter’s triceps? Who knew making all those croinuts would give her arms like the Incredible Hulk?”
My dad barks out a laugh, and the two of them shoot the breeze like they’ve known each other for years. It’s a bizarre sight because this is the first time I’ve introduced my parents to a man. I knew bringing guys around my mom would only encourage her. Seriously, I could introduce her to a crack addict, and she’d still ask me if the guy wanted kids someday.
But my dad…I didn’t really expect him to be so warm and welcoming to Dean. Suddenly, my belly is riddled with guilt because if I didn’t know any better, I’d think those two have the start of a bromance happening.
And Dean…he’s so at ease with all of this. Not a care in the world. Meanwhile, I’m having a nervous breakdown.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me you were bringing a date,” my mother states, interrupting my dad as her eyes rove over Dean like he’s some sort of abstract art exhibit she can’t quite make sense of.
“It’s a party, Mom.” I force out a laugh and murmur quietly in her direction, “And you seemed like a date was sort of required.”
“You didn’t RSVP, though.”
