“I’m not embarrassed,” I say, partially to irritate Alex, but mostly because I don’t want his mother to hold back on how she feels. I’ve never believed in love at first sight, but I’ve spent less than five minutes with Alex’s mother and sister and I’m head over heels in love with them.
“When Alex said he was bringing his girlfriend home…” Mallory’s voice fades, “Well, you’re not at all what we expected.”
“Thanks,” I say, feeling a bit smug. Alex may be embarrassed by my job, it’s obvious the women in his family haven’t been too fond of his previous girlfriends. Still, I have an opportunity to downplay our relationship. Now that I adore them, I really hate deceiving them. “I’m not sure if Alex is ready to make our relationship that official. We’re still pretty new.”
“But he invited you for Christmas,” Mallory says. “He’s never invited anyone for Christmas.”
A chill washes over me. Why hasn’t he invited his previous girlfriends for the holidays? Then again, maybe they wanted to spend Christmas with their own families. For all I know, Alex spent it with them.
Alex must feel the need to convince his mom and sister we’re involved because he walks over and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Finley didn’t have anywhere else to go, so I took pity on her.”
His mother and sister stare at him in horror.
I want to elbow him in the ribs, but instead I shake his arm. “Yep,” I say, keeping my tone playful despite my humiliation. I glance up at him, “That’s me—your lonely, holiday pity case.”
Something flickers in his eyes, I think I see an apology, but my eyes burn, and his face turns blurry.
Valerie releases a horrified gasp and pulls me into another hug. “Oh, you poor dear.” She grabs my shoulders and pulls back, looking deep into my eyes. “Don’t you dare call yourself a pity case. You’re very welcome in our home.” She casts a frown at her son, then graces me with a bright smile. “Now, you must be starving, so let’s get you that chili. How do you like it? We have all the fixings—cheese, corn chips, sour cream, anything you’d like on top, onions? We even have cornbread.”
“We heard that cornbread is a big thing in the South,” Mallory says.
I laugh. “Isn’t cornbread a big thing everywhere? And yes, please.”
Mallory and her mother exchange glances, then she turns back to me. “We like cornbread, but some of Alex’s other girlfriends?—”
Then it hits me why Alex was irritated about the chili. It was a test, and I suspect his previous girlfriends didn’t pass.
“How about we not bring any of my previous girlfriends into this,” Alex says, his voice tight. “We all know that no woman wants to hear about her boyfriend’s previous girlfriends.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” I say sweetly, placing a hand on his arm. “I don’t mind hearing about your ex-girlfriends. I’m not the least bit threatened, because I know my worth.” I might be laying it on thick, but I want to make it clear I’m not embarrassed that I’m not one of polished women he usually dates.
Mrs. King shakes her head. “Mallory, you could take a lesson from Finley.”
“I know, right,” Mallory says, then sighs. “His last girlfriend was ridiculously jealous of everyone and everything. One time she thought Mom was looking at Alex a little too long, and she wrapped her claws—I mean hands—around his arm and hung on the rest of the time they were with us. She was practically claiming Alex as her property.”
There’s a teasing tone to her voice, but I can also tell that she’s irritated with him. I think about the photo I saw of her and Alex taken at the skating rink several years ago. She’d been staring up at him with adoration and awe. I don’t see any of that now.
What happened?
Mrs. King scoops some chili into a bowl and then asks if I want cheddar cheese and sour cream. She seems pleased when I say yes to both, then hands me the bowl and a small plate of corn bread. Mallory ushers me to the kitchen table in the attached breakfast room and gets me settled, then volunteers to get me a glass of water.
After everyone else serves themselves, then join me at the six-person table. Valerie and Dr. Bob sit at the ends. The boys flank their dad, and Mallory and I sit on either side of their mother. Alex is sitting next to me.
“So, Finley,” Dr. Bob asks, “were you born and raised in Atlanta?” This is the first time he’s said anything other than hello to me. Then again, Valerie hasn’t let him get a word in.
I nod. “My mom was from Atlanta, or at least a town outside of Atlanta.”
“And your father?” he asks.
“My father was from Florida, but his parents weren’t the greatest, so he went no contact before he met my mother.”
“So, your father moved to Atlanta too?”
“Yes, but not for long. He joined the military and was killed in the service when I was a baby.”
He frowns. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s okay,” I say. “I obviously don’t remember him, but I have several photos. My mother never remarried so she raised me as a single mother. We didn’t have a lot of money, but she always found a way to make the most of everything.”
