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“Yeah, because you all need an excuse to come visit me, not because you want to,” Lacey says.
“Hey, this is a two-way street, you haven’t come to visit us,” I tell her. “It’s been five years and you could have come back to the States at any time.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” a voice says cutting through what was sure to be an epic argument. “Let’s not start off on the wrong foot here, folks.”
Richard appears behind Lacey.
Dr. Dick Boner.
I have to chew on my lip to keep from laughing.
I’ve obviously seen Richard’s face all over Lacey’s social media, and I even spoke to him on the phone after he proposed to Lacey, but I have to say he looks as dorky in person as he does in photos. I thought perhaps the man just wasn’t photogenic, but that’s not the case.
He’s sort of cute, in like a Jon Cryer kind of way. Someone you’d put in a headlock and ruffle up his hair. He’s got thick glasses and is wearing a polo shirt, tan slacks, and brown loafers, like he took a page from Bill Gates’s style book.
That said, he also strikes me as someone who has money. Like Bill Gates. That ring didn’t come from teaching about plants, that’s for sure.
“So glad you decided to pop by, Daisy,” Richard says to me, extending his hand. His Kiwi accent is very strong and very high-pitched. “I know time zones can be flabbergasting to the novice traveler, but I think you might need to take a refresher in maths.” He starts laughing.
Dear lord, don’t make me hate him. He used the term “maths.”
“I know, I know, silly me,” I say with a forced laugh, smacking the side of my head to indicate that I’m an idiot. “But I’m here now.”
He doesn’t seem like he’s going to drop it. He puts his arm around Lacey and gives her a squeeze. “You made my little lingerie here all worried. I had to remind her that things always seem to work out for you.”
“I’m sorry, lingerie?”
He kisses her on the top of the head, and her cheeks grow redder while avoiding our eyes. “It’s my nickname for her. Lacey…lingerie. Lacey lingerie.” He laughs again, slapping his thigh as if it’s the funniest thing.
Okay, I can’t handle this.
“And what’s your nickname?” my dad asks him. “Little Dicky?”
I burst out laughing, wanting to high five my dad, especially as Richard stares at us in confusion.
“I’m not sure I understand the context, Mr. Lewis,” he says.
My father sighs. “Never mind.”
“We should probably go back,” Lacey says. “Daisy, you can put your stuff away upstairs if you like and then please join us in the backyard for a cocktail.”
Please join us in the backyard for a cocktail? I feel like I’m at a timeshare presentation or something.
I watch as Lacey and Richard walk back inside the house, arm-in-arm.
What a bunch of dorks.
My dad claps his hand on my shoulder. “Come on, better do as your sister says or she’ll have another meltdown. I’ll make sure to get you a glass of sauvignon blanc when you’re done.”
Once inside my father tells me to go upstairs. It’s a nice house and it feels really weird that I haven’t met the owners yet, and that the owners are Tai’s parents. It’s like I shouldn’t be here.
But when I get to the second floor, most of the doors are open and people’s suitcases are piled in. My parents’ suitcases are in what looks like a study, I see the shape of Lacey’s wedding gown hanging in a guest bedroom, and then I spot my suitcases in the room right across.
This has to be Tai’s old room because it’s as if I’ve walked into a museum exhibit devoted to showcasing the inner workings of a teenage boy.
The walls are covered from top to bottom with posters, I can’t even find an inch of drywall. It’s all surfing shots, big waves, or boxers in a ring, or the All Blacks rugby team, or sailboats, and the occasional pin-up girl is thrown in for good measure, often posing beside said surfboards. This room tells me everything I need to know about teenage Tai. Hell, it might tell me a lot about grumpy adult Tai.
I do have to admit I’m disappointed that the pinup girls he chose all seem to be the same type, tall, skinny and blonde with rich tans and big boobs. I’ve got the boobs but that’s about it.
Then, of course, I’m disappointed in myself for being disappointed.
The presence of someone behind me immediately makes me whirl around.
Tai is standing in the doorway. Or rather, he’s leaning against the doorway and observing me, an apple in his hand that he’s munching on.
“Hope you don’t mind your digs for the night,” he says, taking a rather loud crunch of his apple. I don’t know if this is a new kink or what, but there’s something very sexy about watching a man eat an apple with such gusto. Or maybe it’s just that it’s Tai doing it.
