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Since this wasn’t the next step in our relationship or anything, meeting his parents shouldn’t be a big deal. The only reason this was even happening was because of those shelves he’d promised to build for me. After a lot of measuring my room, sketching out different designs, researching stuff on the internet, and visiting the hardware store several times to assess various types of lumber, he was finally ready to begin construction. He was such a planner. Now all that was left was a trip to his parents’ house so he could borrow his dad’s tools and table saw.
So, since this wasn’t about me meeting my future in-laws or anything, why was I about to hyperventilate, and why were the backs of my knees sweating? This shouldn’t be sending me into a near-panic, because it didn’t really matter.
Except it did—to me, anyway. I desperately wanted Dylan’s parents to like me, but I really didn’t know why they would. It was super intimidating that they both had PhDs and taught at a prestigious university. Meanwhile, there was no way to dress up who I was or what I did for a living. Not that I was ashamed of it, but I could only imagine what two straightlaced professors would think of me.
To make matters worse, Dylan gestured at a white SUV when we pulled up in front of the house and said, “Looks like Diane’s here.” Great, another family member to fail to impress.
From everything I’d heard about her, his sister was every bit as intimidating as his parents. Apparently, she had two masters degrees and ran a nonprofit organization that helped homeless women learn job skills and find careers and housing. In other words, she was basically a saint. Then again, so was Dylan. What else could you call someone who’d spent the last fifteen years as a firefighter, literally saving people’s lives? Compared to the members of this family, I was basically a potato who’d never done a single thing that mattered.
His sister was the first to greet us when I followed Dylan into his parents’ picture-perfect home. She was tall and gorgeous with cheekbones to die for, and she wore her hair in a lot of long, thin braids, which were gathered into a low ponytail and tied with a silk scarf. She kind of reminded me of Angela Bassett in How Stella Got Her Groove Back. She was elegant like Angela too, even in yoga pants and a track jacket. Some people just had a classy air about them.
“Diane, I’d like you to meet Lark,” Dylan said, as he shifted the big box of muffins he’d brought along. His sister smiled warmly as she shook my hand. Then he added, “We’re dating, but I’m begging you, please don’t make a big deal out of it.”
Her eyes went wide, and she blurted, “Oh!” She was still gripping my hand, and she ran her gaze up and down me curiously. I’d dressed down for this visit in jeans, a red hoodie, and sneakers—no glitter or unicorns in sight. Even so, it still took her a minute to fully take me in. Finally, she said, “I hope this isn’t a rude question, but do you mind if I ask how old you are, Lark?”
Before I could say anything, Dylan told her, “He’s seventeen, but he’ll be eighteen this summer.” Her mouth fell open, and then her brother burst out laughing and exclaimed, “Oh, come on! He’s twenty-six, Di. Why would you even ask him something like that?”
She chuckled and said, “Because I was curious, you ass. I didn’t think he was in high school, but I did wonder if he was old enough for the mimosas Dad’s making.”
Dylan rolled his eyes, and then he put his arm around my shoulders and guided me through the house. Diane fell into step with us, and along the way, he asked her, “Did you bring your hubby and kids?”
“No. They’ve all become obsessed with this giant, indoor rock climbing gym. I went with them once, which was more than enough. They’ll be there for hours, so I decided to come over and help Mom with her photo project.” She turned to me and explained, “We’ve been digitally scanning old family photos so we can preserve them. There are some awesome shots of Dylan from his awkward period, which I’ll be happy to show you after we eat.”
“Or, here’s an idea—don’t do that,” Dylan said.
“Yeah, that definitely needs to happen,” I told Diane, which made her grin.
Their parents stopped what they were doing the moment we set foot in the kitchen. The arm around my shoulders was definitely noted, and I could see their wheels turning as they tried to figure out what was happening. It was pretty obvious he hadn’t told them about me, which drove home the point that to him, we really weren’t in a relationship.
Dylan said, “Mom and Dad, I’d like you to meet Lark Genardi. Lark, these are my parents, Claudia Cadence Hawkins and Darius Hawkins.”
I had no idea what to call them. As I shook their hands, I went with, “It’s great to meet you, Doctor and Doctor Hawkins.”
Dylan’s mom smiled at me and said, “There’s no need to be so formal. Just call us Claudia and Darius.” I nodded, even though that seemed way too casual.
Darius started pouring mimosas into a waiting row of champagne flutes, and Claudia directed me to one of the barstools at the counter and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone named Lark. Is one of your parents an ornithologist?”
“I don’t know what that is,” I told her, “but if it has something to do with birds, then no. Lark is short for Larkin. My mother named me after one of her favorite soap opera characters.”
While Claudia absorbed that, Darius told me, “Our son mentioned he was bringing a friend along, but I’m afraid he didn’t tell us much about you, Lark.”
“Here’s the short version,” Dylan said, as he put down the muffins and picked up a carton of orange juice. “Lark and I are dating, we met online since I’m sure that’ll be your next question, and like I told Diane, I really don’t want anyone to make a big deal out of this. Please don’t grill him with a million questions, either. I really like him, so I don’t want you to scare him away.”
Dylan flashed me a smile that was somewhere between shy and embarrassed. When he filled one of the champagne flutes with orange juice and handed it to me, his mother asked, “Isn’t he old enough to drink?”
Diane barely covered a chuckle with a cough as she sat down beside me at the counter, and Dylan sighed and said, “He’s twenty-six, Mom. He just doesn’t like the taste of alcohol.”
Meanwhile, his dad was looking pretty pleased with himself. He turned to his son and said, “See? I told you to try those online dating sites when you were here at New Year’s, and obviously I was right.”
“I’d already met him when you and I talked about that, Dad. Remember me telling you about a great conversation I’d had with someone I met online?” Dylan tipped his head toward me as he said that. I couldn’t believe he’d actually mentioned me to his father, right after we met.
His face lit up, and Darius exclaimed, “The conversation that made you so happy!”
“Yes. That one.” Dylan stepped around the counter and rested his hand on my shoulder.
“Well, that’s marvelous,” Darius said. “And now here he is, joining us for a nice family brunch.”
Claudia took some kind of salad out of the refrigerator as she said, “So, tell us about yourself, Lark. What do you do for a living?”
