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Manning cleared his throat. “I want nothing more than to marry Lake,” he said. “She’s practically my wife already. It’s just a matter of making it official, and we’d love for you all to be there.”
Tiffany snorted. “This is beyond twisted. You know that, don’t you?”
I looked at Manning as he shrugged, then to my sister. I sat up a little straighter. “It is what it is.”
“Goodness.” Mom passed rosemary-roasted potatoes to Tiffany. “Charles, serve the turkey.”
He stood and slid the roast in front him. “Who wants a leg?” he asked and flipped on the electric knife.
My mom frowned as she started the rotation of side dishes. “That’s big news after barely hearing from you for so long,” she yelled as my dad carved.
“I know.” I accepted a bowl of broccoli. “I’m sorry it’s sudden for you, but it isn’t for us.”
“We don’t even know what your life is like,” Mom said, frowning. “I thought you were living in Pomona.”
“Part of the week. On weekends and holidays, I go home.”
“What?” Dad sliced off breast meat. “Home?”
“To Manning,” I enunciated. “And our place in Big Bear.”
My dad turned to Manning, pointing the whirring knife in his direction. After a few tense seconds, he shut it off. “All these years?”
“I would’ve mentioned it sooner, sir,” Manning said, “but Lake and I needed our privacy.”
“That’s fine. All fine.” Dad shrugged. “Makes no difference to me.”
Except it did. His play of indifference wasn’t convincing. Frustrating as it was that he couldn’t own up to his feelings, it also made me grateful I’d come today. I hadn’t wanted to do this, but I could see my dad cared about his relationship with Manning, just as Manning did. “Manning is the reason I’m here tonight,” I said, serving myself a tamale. “Your approval means a lot to him. He wants to be part of this family again.”
“We know that, honey,” Mom said, taking my hand across the table. “We know you want that, too, and I promise it makes us nothing but ecstatic. Of course you have our blessing—”
“Cathy.”
“What, Charles?” She barely spared him a glance before continuing. “I wouldn’t miss the wedding for the world. I want to be part of it, though. I—we—want to know more about who you are now.”
I went stiff. I didn’t know where to begin, or how to get things back to what they were—yet my mom looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to spill my guts. “Right now?” I asked.
“Let’s start with having a nice meal together tonight,” Manning said, one arm back around my chair as he accepted a platter of sliced turkey with the other. “We’ll go from there.”
Grateful for the save, I put my hand on Manning’s thigh, even though it also meant eating one-handed. “We don’t need an answer now,” I said.
“We just wanted to let you know our plans,” Manning added.
“Let’s see the ring,” Tiffany said.
I’d told Manning I’d wear the mood ring for now, knowing how he worried about money. I didn’t need more than that anyway. I doubted Tiffany would understand, though, so I said, “We’re putting that money into the wedding.”
“No ring?” she asked. “Are you serious?”
“If your sister doesn’t want a ring, that’s fine,” my mom said, batting her lashes at Manning. “But it is a nice symbol of your devotion to each other, even if it’s something small.”
“I’ll take that into consideration,” Manning said.
“How’s school?” Dad asked just as I had taken a bite—not that he’d notice since he continued to look anywhere but at me.
Still, it was akin to me taking a step into this house. Dad was opening a door long closed, not only accepting my presence but inviting me in. Swallowing my food with a sip of water, I shivered when Tiffany’s knife scraped the china. “It’s great,” I said. “By this time next year, I’ll be a licensed vet.”
“She’s one of the top students in her program,” Manning said.
“I should hope so.” Dad cut his turkey breast, nodding. “She’ll be thankful for years of focused study when she’s slicing Fido open on her operating table.”
“Dad,” Tiffany said, making a face.
“What?” he asked. “You better get used to it if you’re going to marry a doctor.”
“Marry?” Tiffany perked up, grinning. “Did Robby say something to you?”
“No,” Dad barked. “You remind me at every Sunday dinner that you plan to be married by the end of next year.”
She put an elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “I do.”
As cautious as I was about rejoining this family, there was some comfort in their bickering. My dad was still unapologetically himself, but at the root of it, he cared.
“Anyway,” I continued, “I’ll spend the next few months interviewing with a couple animal hospitals in Big Bear, but eventually I want to open my own practice.”
