Page 85 of Meant to Be

Joe shook his head and said, “I’m not fighting with my family because ofyou. I’m fighting because ofthem. Their attitude…their judgment…and that has really nothing to do with you. It’s been going on for years, on a myriad of topics. And I had to draw a line in the sand.”

“Thank you,” I said—because I hadn’t said it yet.

He shook his head and said, “Don’t thank me. It’s so basic. You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes. Of course I would.”

“Okay, then. Please don’t worry. I got this. They’ll come around.”

I nodded, trusting him, fighting my instinct to run and hide.

“So. My place or yours?” he asked.

“Mine,” I said. “It’s closer.”

—

When we walkedinto my apartment, Elna came out of her bedroom with a look of surprise and confusion.

“Hey! What are you doing back?” She fixed her eyes on me as if Joe were invisible.

“Change of plans,” I said, then segued right into an introduction, thinking that it was a little crazy that they hadn’t yet met. “Elna, this is Joe. Joe, this is Elna.”

They exchanged pleasantries, then Joe asked if he could use the bathroom.

“Of course,” I said, pointing down the hall to my room. “You can use mine.”

He nodded, then quickly left with our bags. Elna watched his back until he turned in to my room, then whispered, “What the heck is going on?”

I gave her the rundown, embarrassed all over again. Elna was predictably indignant and appalled on my behalf yet managed to soothe me a little.

“If Joe’s got your back, who cares what anyone else thinks?”

“Icare—”

“Well,don’t,” she said.

I nodded, just as Joe returned, and Elna immediately addressed the elephant in the room.

“Cate told me what happened. That was really awesome of you to defend her,” she said. “Thank you for doing that.”

Joe nodded and slid his arm around my waist. “Of course.Always.”

I reluctantly smiled, as Elna suggested we sit down. “Can I pour you guys a stiff drink? I think you need one.”

“Okay,” Joe said. “Twist my arm.”

“Cate?” Elna said.

“I’ll take one, too. Or maybe just a shot,” I said with a laugh before leading Joe over to the sofa.

I was kidding, but a minute later, Elna returned with a small plastic tray. On it were three bottles of Amstel Light, already opened, and three mismatched souvenir shot glasses of a golden brown liquor.

“I was kidding about the shot!” I said, though it suddenly seemed like a good idea.

Elna shrugged and said, “Kidding or not, I think this situation calls for tequila, don’t you, Joe?”

He smiled and said, “Absolutely.”

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