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“We had Chase, and then Preston. Things were fantastic for a long time, but then it wasn’t. There is no one else to blame but Chase’s father and me.”
“No, it was all dad’s fault, and that whore he calls a wife,” Chase cuts in.
“Don’t talk negatively about your father. I taught you better than that,” Claire scolds.
“Sorry, but if it weren’t for her—”
“I don’t want to hear it. There is no proof Tiffani was in the picture while we were together.” Chase huffs his disapproval, his body tensing.
“Anyway,” Claire continues, “the past is in the past. I am happy with my life, both past and present.” She turns to look directly at me. “And, I’m happy Chase was able to find someone amazing like you.” The tension in Chase’s body slowly fades, his scowl turning into a bona-fide smile.
“Don’t scare her off, mom,” Chase teases.
“So, enough about me. Who’s hungry?” Claire stands and leads us into the dining room where the table is already set, the finest of everything on display.
“Chase told me you like French food. He also told me he gave you a cooking lesson in French food last night. So, rather than bore you, I have something else in store.”
“Whatever we’re having, I’m sure it will be delicious,” I say to Claire.
“Come, sit down.” As I sit, a lovely classical piece begins to play in the background.
“What’s playing?” I ask Chase. He listens intently for a minute, then murmurs, “Sounds like Debussy’s Clair de lune, but I’m not certain.”
“Chase is correct. I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your good taste in music,” Claire calls from the kitchen. Chase rolls his eyes again, causing me to giggle. It’s refreshing to see how they play off each other.
“I was forced to listen to this as a child,” he teases.
“I kind of like it,” I tease back. He shakes his head and chuckles lightly.
“Chase told me you like white, I hope this is okay,” Clair says as she comes in from the kitchen, placing a bottle of 2001 Villa Maria Clifford Bay Reserve Sauvignon Blanc on the table.
“Yes, I love sauvignon blancs. Especially New Zealand wines. They have such a smooth finish.”
“Good,” she says, reaching behind her for wine glasses a
nd pouring one for each of us. “Dinner is just about ready,” she says as she makes her way back to the kitchen.
“Do you need any help?” I call after her.
“No, thank you. Just relax.”
As we wait, the music changes and the volume increases slightly. No longer are classical tunes playing throughout the apartment, but something more familiar. Chase glances over at me, smiling.
“I didn’t want to hear Chase whining throughout dinner, so I changed the music,” Claire mocks as she carries in a large casserole dish, placing it on the table.
“Lobster Mac-and-cheese!” I exclaim with joy. “The dish reminds me of when Chase took me to Bobby Van’s.” Chase smiles knowingly.
“I hope it lives up to your expectations,” Claire teases again.
“Looks fantastic, Mom,” Chase says chuckling, glancing over at me.
I am so full, I feel like I may burst. Not only did I have seconds, I contemplated having thirds. It was so good, Chase might have to push me out of here in a wheel barrel. As we say our goodbyes, Claire gives me a hug and Chase bends down so she can kiss him.
“Dinner was amazing, thank you again,” I say to Claire.
“Please, come back anytime. My door is always open.” With that, Chase and I head back to his apartment, where I intend to work off all the calories I ingested this evening.
After a weekend of surviving on takeout and lounging around Chase’s apartment binge watching seasons of our favorite shows, I feel more relaxed than I have in weeks. Chase tried to talk me into leaving clothes at his apartment, but I’m just not sure I’m ready to take that step in our relationship. I like where we are right now, like how comfortable and content we are, and I don’t want to take that away by moving too fast.
