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“Maggie?” my mom called from the kitchen. Whatever she was cooking smelled amazing.
“I’m coming,” I yelled back, motioning for Tommy to follow me.
When I rounded the corner with Tommy in tow, my mom’s eyes widened in surprise before she schooled her face like the sweet woman that she is. Her apron was covered in flour, and the smell coming from the oven was lasagna.
“Well, hello!” My mom smiled warmly at Tommy as she wiped her hands off and reached out to wrap him in a hug. “I’m Cindy.”
“Tommy,” he told her as he pulled away from the hug.
“I’m so happy you’re joining us.” The smile on my mom’s face said everything. I was sure she felt that she’d never see the day when I brought someone home again, and quite honestly, I thought that day would never happen again as well. “Food will be ready in fifteen minutes. Can I get you two anything in the meantime?”
“I’m okay. Thank you, Mrs. Redford.”
“Please, call me Cindy.” My mom waved Tommy’s formality off. “Mrs. Redford is Richard’s mom. And speaking of your father, he’s upstairs taking a shower. I’m sure he will be quite surprised when he comes down.”
I held back a smile at my mom’s subtle jab in my direction for springing Tommy Mikals on the two of them without any warning. She would be pestering me for days after this, I was sure.
“I have a few things to finish up in the kitchen. Why don’t you two go ahead into the living room. I’ll meet you there in a minute.” I gestured for Tommy to follow me over toward the couches, wanting nothing more than to sink into the corner of my parents’ sectional and close my eyes until the food was ready. Tommy had other ideas though.
Instead of taking a seat on the couch next to me, he slowly took a turn around the room. His eyes roamed the framed pictures on the walls and my mom’s paintings. He stopped to look at a photo my dad had taken of me when I still played softball in high school. Tommy gave me a curious glance over his shoulder before he moved to the next one. It was a painting my mom had done, and her signature was in the bottom corner.
“Your mom paints?”
“Oh yes. She hasn’t put anything in a gallery recently, but you’ll see a ton of her paintings all over the house.” Tommy started to move toward the shelves on the other side of the room before he stopped in midstep, his eyes zeroing in on something. His body blocked whatever it was he was looking at on the mantel, but I was waiting for him to make a comment on the picture of me in the Belle costume from the second grade.
“You have a fiancé?” My blood froze as I realized which picture Tommy was looking at. It seemed like all the events of today were leading up to this moment. The two of us stared at each other, Luke’s face right over Tommy’s shoulder in the picture behind him.
“I did,” I replied. “I don’t anymore, and I’m not sure there is much else to say.”
It felt like we were in a standoff as Tommy weighed whether he should push the subject or not. He must have read something on my face that told him not to because he nodded and continued to move on to the next set of bookshelves. I let out a breath, full of pent-up energy I didn’t know I had been holding inside me as soon as Tommy’s back was turned.
If something between the two of us evolved into more than a fake relationship, I knew I would have to tell him about Luke. But today would not be the day. I was more confused about where Tommy and I stood today than I had been before the night we watched romance movies in the hotel in California. Before I shared with him one of the more intimate moments of my life, I was going to need some clarity on what we were.
Moments later, my father walked into the room to stir the metaphorical spoon on the awkward soup that was occurring in my parents’ house.
“Tommy Mikals?” he shrieked, like a teenage girl seeing her favorite boy band member for the first time. My mouth dropped open at the sheer audacity he had to not control himself.
Bless Tommy, because he took it like a champ. “You must be Mr. Redford.”
That was the last awkward-parent moment of the visit, thankfully. Tommy chatted with my parents and had them both won over by the end of the meal. I caught my mom giving me approving looks while my father had Tommy’s ear.
As I stared across the table at Tommy, thinking about how the world brought the two of us together, a little piece of me dared to hope that this would last. Because sitting around the table with him and my parents felt normal, and I was craving a little normal.
Maggie
“And with that strikeout, folks,” the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers in the stadium, “Adam Steel has sat down his eleventh batter of the night.”
“He’s unreal tonight.” Tommy came up beside me to lean on the dugout fence.
Tonight’s game was a chance for some of the rookies to prove themselves to the managers. We were playing a weaker team, and it hadn’t been intended for Adam to throw this long, but after the seventh strikeout, the coaches decided to keep him in to let him have his moment. It was one of my favorite times to be a photographer capturing history.
“Unreal,” I agreed.
“Want to go to another pier with me tonight?” I bit down on a smile, nodding in response. I felt like a teenage girl with her first crush around Tommy, like my emotions were going haywire.
“What’s with you and piers?” I asked, trying my hand at being coy.
“The view.” Tommy looked at me then like I was the only important thing happening in that moment.
