“I don’t know, Hannah, I didn’t think about it.”
“Did you kiss?” I asked. I turned to Jeremy. “Did you see them kiss?”
“No,” Kate said before he could answer. “I met him at Paws and Claws. He asked me to lunch, I said yes, that’s all.”
“Are you going to see him again? Has he been texting you?” I reached for her phone on the table. She batted my hand away. “What’s his name?”
“Daniel Gonzales,” Jeremy said. “But he has us call him Danny.”
So not only had she gone on a date with a professor, she’d also gone on a date with a cool professor? And she hadn’t told me?
“Can we keep it down?” Kate scolded. “Mom will go to town with questions if she thinks I’m dating. Please.”
Jeremy and I looked at each other before slowly nodding. Mom had a few crusades she loved most, one of which being getting Kate to start dating again. She was relentless in trying to set Kate up with people, and Kate was right that Mom wouldn’t shut up about it if she knew. But this wasn’t the last she’d hear about it from me, not by any means.
“Speak of the devil,” Jeremy whispered as Mom walked into the living room.
“Girls,” she nodded toward the kitchen, “I need you.”
With one last meaningful look at Kate from me, we followed.
CHAPTER 12
THE HYPOCRITE
I was still grumpy at Kate when she dropped Barry and me off at the house after nine that night. We’d completed both puzzles and each of us had reheated at least one plate of food as the night wore on. Barry was a trooper through the whole of it, chatting with my parents, entertaining my brother’s hockey questions, placing puzzle pieces each time he walked past the table behind me (he had a real eye for it). They were all under his spell before the table was even set, so by the end of the night, I’d caught Mom prayerfully gazing between us more than once. Dad, too. Not Ron, but Ron napped sitting up on the couch intermittently through the evening, in true Ron fashion.
“Clothes shopping Saturday?” Kate said as she handed the keys to me. Barry didn’t seem to hear, thankfully, because I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t try to charm his way into an invite to watch me try on jeans with stretchy waistbands.
“Yes please,” I said, even though I was still mad about the date thing. I could be mad and still take her emotional support while roaming the maternity section of Old Navy. I contain multitudes.
After a final good-night exchange with Barry, Kate was off, waving as she drove off.
“Your family’s great,” Barry said as we stepped inside. They had been great, albeit embarrassing. Barry left with a Harvey Janitorial tee shirt and a baseball hat as well, both from my dad, who was maybe the most excited about having another guy inthe family—this one famous. He and Kate both brought up the idea of Harvey Janitorial being an official Barry Wright brand sponsor, and the concept made Mom so excited she sent him home with a couple of beaded bracelets she made to fit his big wrist after dinner. He wore them now.
I wanted to tell all of them that being the father of my child didn’t automatically make Barry part of the family, but Dad wouldn’t have agreed. Plus, if the baby wasn’t enough, talking with Dad for forty minutes about seasonings certainly qualified Barry for honorary-family status in Dad’s eyes.
The food was as delicious as it is every year, though the green bean casserole Mom tried really wasn’t as good as the zucchini one she usually made. It was impossible to beat; I don’t know why she even tried. It belongs on the yearly rotation, the spot of zucchini casserole never to be questioned, but Mom liked trying new things, just in case. Of all the new recipes this year, Ron’s orange zest rolls, Kate’s margaritas, and Barry’s pasta salad were the majority favorites of the table.
Mom asked if he’d bring it again for Christmas, and I told her that Barry probably wasn’t available to come to our Christmas because he had a big family who would no doubt have their own festivities going.
“The break might be too short to travel again,” he said, sparking hope in the eyes of all three of my parents and Jeremy. “If I’m invited, I’d love to come. I wouldn’t pass up this feast.”
“Invite your family here,” Mom said. “Lord knows we’ll have enough meat.”
I tried to imagine the polished family I’d seen in Barry’s locker photo here in my mom’s house, taking off their shoes so as to not dirty the twenty-five-year-old carpet, startling at the wall of cuckoo clocks in the living room, staring down the collection of pig memorabilia in the kitchen.
No, no, it was too much. I hadn’t even met them yet.
“My sister was thinking of coming to visit for the week to seethe home game and hang out. I’ll ask if she’d like to come,” Barry said, and Mom clapped in front of her chest like nothing was more delightful. She was still wearing her apron. “Would love to bring you all to a game, as well.”
“You say when,” Dad said, trying not to sound too excited.
“I’ll make bracelets.”
Everyone had lots of questions about Barry’s family; had I met any of them? Were they all athletes? Any nieces or nephews to speak of? Any allergies or gluten intolerances? Ron had a gluten-free roll recipe that was pretty good, he could make it for Barry’s sister—was she lactose intolerant? Was she okay with dogs, should Kate leave Greg Senior at home?
“She hasn’t said yes,” I said through a mouth full of Jeremy’s berry pie. “Chill.”
