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“I just met this incredible guy. His name is Xavier. He’s an artist,” she said.
“Where did you meet him?” I asked, shucking off my clothes so I could change into the outfit I chose.
“On Tinder,” she said.
I laughed to myself and rolled my eyes. I had to give it to Emily. She was the only person in existence as far as I knew who’d managed to make meeting somebody on Tinder sound romantic.
“Have you met him in person yet?” I asked.
“Yes. We just went on the most amazing date. You wouldn’t believe how romantic he was. Just right from the beginning. As soon as he showed up…”
Right as she was saying that, the door to the hotel room opened and Tom walked in.
“Emily, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to go. I’ll call you back in the morning and you can tell me everything else, okay?”
“Sure,” she said, stumbling a little. “Oh, is he there?”
She had dropped her voice so he wouldn’t be able to hear her over the line, not realizing I still had her on speaker, and he could hear her even if she was whispering. I grabbed the phone and turned speaker off.
“Yep,” I said casually. “So, I’ve got to go. But I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I hung up and offered up a somewhat awkward smile to Tom.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
“Just give me a couple more minutes,” I said.
He nodded and I rushed into the bathroom to throw on some makeup and brush my hair. I tried to tell myself I didn’t need to go to too extensive an effort. This wasn’t a date, and he wasn’t bringing me home to his mother. We were just going for dinner. That was it.
Even still, I couldn’t shake the nervousness that stayed firmly lodged in my stomach and my chest as we left the hotel and he brought me down to his rental car.
“Where are we going to eat?” I asked, feeling the need to fill the silence that existed between us since I’d made a run for my makeup bag.
“Over to my mother’s house,” Tom said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I didn’t know if that made the situation better or worse. Going out to a restaurant would have its own pressures and would feel very date-like. But this was going into her home. It was even more personal.
Trying to think through all of that made me even more nervous as we drove for her house. I couldn’t help but wonder if any of Tom’s brothers would be there, but I didn’t want to ask. It would certainly feel less intimate if they were.
“Here we are,” Tom said a few minutes later when we pulled up in front of an adorable house that looked like belonged in a Christmas movie. It should be perpetually draped with twinkly lights and dusted with a soft snow.
A pleasant-looking woman opened the door before we even made it all the way up onto the porch.
“Tom!” the woman, who I could only assume was his mother, gushed. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Hey, Mom,” he said, walking up to her and giving her a hug. He stepped back and gestured to me. “This is Amanda.”
I wanted for him to define who I was, ready to use that to gauge what he was thinking about me and this meeting. But he didn’t. It was entirely possible she already knew who I was because he’d told her I was coming over. Yet it still felt significant somehow.
“Hello,” she said, smiling brightly at me. “I’m Susan. It’s so nice to meet you. Please, come on in.”
We went inside, and I immediately breathed in the incredible smell of something cooking.
“Something smells wonderful,” I said.
Susan waved her hand in front of her like she was brushing away the comment. “It’s just spaghetti carbonara and bread.”
“My mom bakes the best bread in the state,” he said.
Susan grinned and shook her head. “And Ristolli’s bakery down the road makes the best cannoli, which is why I picked some up for dessert.”
A big salad was already sitting out on the table when she invited us to sit down, and Tom served some up to each of us. We settled in to eat, and the nervousness faded away. It was an amazing meal with great conversation that gave me some new insight into my boss.
Including hilarious stories about when he was a little boy his mom delighted in telling and I delighted in hearing. Tom, not so much. But he was a good sport about it. Especially since us talking gave him free rein over the pasta bowl.
We went back to the hotel still laughing and joking from the pleasant evening spent with his mother. There were no more tripping incidents, but we shared a slightly lingering gaze as I closed the door to my bedroom. I got ready for bed with my heart beating a little faster. Maybe Emily was actually right.
