“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to your rich boyfriend’s penthouse?” Piper gives me a grimace as we kick off our shoes in the foyer. “And take me with you.”
I make a face. As much as I would have rather gone back there to lounge in what I now think of as my suite… with Graham and the weirdness with his father? Maybe being in a familiar space—even if it is chaotic—is safer.
You are not in a position to judge,I remind myself.
“Why haven’t I met this boyfriend yet, Dani?” Mom peers at me over her glasses when we come into the kitchen. “I only saw those photos of him posted on your company Instagram. Everyone keeps asking me what he’s like, and I have to say I don’t know—my daughter doesn’t care enough about her mother to let her meet the future father of her grandchildren.”
“I don’t know, Mom. He’s busy.”
“Busy. Too busy to meet his future in-laws?”
“I think your mother means that we’re very excited to meet him, Beans.” Dad kisses the top of my hair. “Whenever is convenient for you two.”
“No, I mean—” Mom shoos off Dad. “My daughter met his parents days ago—thank you very much—and here I am with nothing. Not even a photo.”
“I posted a photo.”
“You have a cinnamon roll hanging out of your mouth, Dani. I can’t send that to people. I can’t put that on the Christmas card.” Mom looks at me, shocked.
Getting Graham to come to a company function is one thing. Dinner with my parents?
I set my bags down. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Oh…” My mother throws up her hands. “I didn’t know if you girls were coming back for dinner. I had a bag of almonds. I’m stuffed.”
“Did you get any of that lobster mac and cheese from Costco, Dad?”
“You’re not going to serve that to your boyfriend when he comes over, are you?” my mom demands.
“Maybe we could go to Camelli’s?” Piper brightens. “I bet your boyfriend could get us a table!”
“You want us to meet him at a restaurant?” My mom is horrified.
“I can barely hear anything at restaurants. I want to have a conversation,” my dad says as he transfers his latest Costco purchase—an industrial-sized container of pistachios—into smaller tins.
“Your dad can barely hear.” My mom slaps her hand on the table. “Dani, try to think of your father.”
“She wants to show him off to the neighbors,” Piper whispers.
“Showing off? No one’s showing off—but we need to have him over Friday, early dinner, because that’s when the Hills leave for the Hamptons, and they need to see Graham.” Mom peers at her phone calendar.
“Do they?”
“Everyone’s worried about you.” Mom cuts me off. “Vivienne Belmont was telling me just the other day how concerned Colette was that you were moving too fast. She thinks it’s suspicious that he even found you attractive.”
Ouch.
“Of course he’d find you attractive, Beans,” Dad tells me earnestly. “You’re smart, and you come from a good family. You have great taste in clothes. Your mother and I are just concerned because Colette’s mom brought up a lot of red flags in your relationship.”
“For the record”—I force out through clenched teeth—“this is why I usually work late—so that I can Uber Eats dinner on the company card.”
“I don’t qualify for Uber Eats.” Piper slides onto a bar stool, whining.
“There are more almonds left, and your father bought an industrial-sized container of apricots, so I think you girls can put something together.”
“I mean, cheese and wine—that can be half a meal?” Piper shrugs.
“How very European!” Dad grins.
