“Hate to break it to you, but these are actually for your mom,” Luke says, grinning. His smile gets bigger as Mom stops in the foyer and beams at him.
“Hi, Mrs. Rumfield.”
“Oh, please. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Katherine?”
He hands her the rainbow roses and she draws the bouquet to her nose.
“Feels a little weird,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. He seems less sure of what to do with himself now that the flowers are in Mom’s hands.
“You’re so respectful. This one is always ‘Mel this’, ‘Mel that,’” Mom says, pointing at me.
My mouth drops open, and Luke winks at me.
“That’s what she asked me to call her even when we were little,” I protest. I know she’s joking, but it feels like too much too soon.
If Mom had been around more during our childhood, maybe Luke would be fine calling her Katherine. The truth is, ever since her weird reaction to my going over to Mel’s the other night, I haven’t been quite sure what to make of anything where my mother is concerned.
Is she annoyed at me for spending so much time with the Cohens all these years? And how can she really blame me for that, when she and Dad were so absent?
“Luke. How are you, son?” Dad asks, meeting us in the dining room. Luke and Dad shake hands, and Dad immediately launches into an assault about school. Is Luke still majoring in biochem, does he want to get into a health profession, will he go to med school like his dad, etc., etc.
“Dad, he doesn’t have to know that yet. He’s only in his second year,” I point out as I signal for Luke to sit in the chair next to mine.
“Yes, and it’s important to think ahead,” Dad says. “Otherwise you end up at the end of a long path and you still have no idea what you want to do.” He is not so subtly referring to my college deferral.
“People don’t have to figure out their whole lives right away, and Luke certainly doesn’t have to,” I say. For some reason I’m suddenly on edge. Maybe it’s getting to me that we’re playing Picture-Perfect Family tonight, acting like my parents were so concerned about my future career orLuke’sfuture career prior to the arrival of Mom 2.0.
“It’s okay, Jessi,” Luke says, giving me a reassuring smile.
I try to tell from his face whether he really means it, but he gives me nothing. Everything that comes out of his mouth sounds sincere, and since it can’t possibly be, I have no choice but to doubt everything he says.
“I think I eventually want to go to grad school, but I’m actually thinking about switching to an engineering major.”
“Interesting,” Dad says. “That’s another good choice. Lots of job prospects.”
Not that Luke owes me anything, but I wonder how I’ve managed to make it through countless hours by his side this summer without ever hearing about his new plan. That was something we talked about throughout the years, even before we ever dated. Luke always knew he was going to become some kind of scientist. At the start of last summer, when he was tutoring me, he told me he’d decided on biochem. It feels like losing something, no longer being able to follow the progression of his dreams the way I once did.
“I’ve heard so,” Luke says now as we all sit down. “But to be honest, I feel like more and more these days you have to make your own way. It’s not as simple as finding a major with good prospects. You need to be smart, willing to work hard, passionate, and brave enough to take chances, to do unexpected things.”
“Amen to that,” Dad says, nodding vigorously.
“Which is why I think Jessi will be just fine. She has all those things.” My head snaps in Luke’s direction, and he’s already looking at me.
His defense of me almost sounds ... genuine. He is completely killing it tonight. If I’m being honest, he has been killing it all along, selling our charade far better than I have.
Thank you,I say with my eyes.
He gives the slightest nod in response.
“Hmm,” Dad says, far less enthusiastic about Luke’s second point.
The next hour passes with more school and life talk and a whole lot of questions aimed at Luke, which he answers without flinching. I feel embarrassed and find myself thinking of all the ways I can apologize for my parents when this is over. They are so ... not Mel. Instead of being easygoing and funny and warm, they are serious and overly earnest, trying to make cases for themselves as Good Parents, like they’re trying to disprove anything contrary that I might have told Luke. And then the questions. My God. You’d think Luke was at an interview or something. But he’s so good at fielding them that I start to wonder how many times he’s met a girl’s parents. He probably met Meredith’s, since he went over to her house so many times, but who else has there been? Court? He said there were hookups in college. I wouldn’t have expected those to involve any parental run-ins, but what do I know?
Luke leans over and whispers to me when my parents get up to grab dessert from the kitchen. “You look miserable.”
“I am. This sucks.”
He looks stricken. “Why? Am I doing something wrong?”
