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“Whoa,” she whispers and I smile.
“You want a house like this?” I ask her as Max parks.
“Doesn’t everyone?” She asks.
“We’ll pick out a new place soon then,” I promise her as I climb out and offer her my hand.
“Is this her? Is this Izzy?” My mom asks as she hurries down the front porch steps.
Izzy smiles shyly and I take her hand, leading her up to greet my mom.
“Yeah, mom, this is Izzy. Izzy, this is my mom, Mary.”
“It’s so nice to meet you,” my mom gushes.
“You too,” Izzy says as my mom pulls her in for a tight hug.
“Dinner is almost ready,” my mom tells me as she ushers us inside. “How about a quick tour before then. I can show you around and we can talk a bit. Get to know each other some more before we eat.”
“Sure,” Izzy says, smiling as my mom links her arms through hers.
I shake my head, grinning as I follow after the two most important people in my life. We head through the house and out into the gardens.
“This was the first thing that I did when I moved in. It was all just green grass before,” my mom tells Izzy.
“I love this. All of the colors, it’s like stepping into another world. So peaceful. I work at a flower shop downtown and it’s so relaxing to be there. You’re always surrounded by so much beauty. This might be better though,” Izzy compliments her.
We wander around the grounds and I let the two of them talk amongst themselves.
“How long have you lived here for?” My mom asks Izzy.
“I lived in Universal City until I was eighteen,” she says, naming a city on the outskirts of Los Angeles. “I moved here then.”
“And how are you liking it so far?”
“It’s home now,” Izzy tells her. “I don’t really know any different.”
“Well, I’m sure that you’ll be traveling the world soon,” my mom says, shooting me a knowing wink.
We head inside and into the dining room. I pull out a chair for Izzy and then my mom before I take my seat next to my girl.
My mom’s private chef comes out with the first course and Izzy licks her lips when she sees the fresh baked bread and soup.
“How did you two meet now?” My mom asks and Izzy freezes with her spoon halfway to her mouth.
“I went to the apartment to check on Clark and ran into Izzy,” I tell my mom.
Izzy looks relieved that I answered and I reach over, squeezing her knee in reassurance.
“That’s lucky! Or maybe fate,” she says with a soft smile.
My mom always used to say that it was fate that brought her and my dad together. I think that was why I never bothered dating. I was waiting to meet the woman that made me feel the way that Izzy does.
“Maybe,” I say, smiling at Izzy.
She blushes and bows her head, going back to eating her soup. We make small talk as the next course is brought out. My mom asks Izzy question after question and I take studious notes of all of her answers.
I learn that Izzy hates radishes, loves all kinds of cheeses, and basically anything that’s sweet or a carb. She talks fondly about her mom and grandma and it’s clear that she loved both of them and misses them.
