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“It is,” I said. “It’s a sign of respect from a bygone era, a tradition that has managed to survive, although it’s not done much these days.”
Dyrel’s mom glanced at her son and then back at me again. She nodded her head and performed the curtsy back to me.
“Am I doing this right?” she said.
“Yes,” I said. “But you don’t need to do it to me.”
Dyrel’s mom stepped forward and took my hand in her dainty ones.
“Oh, but I think I do,” she said.
I felt the warm surge of love from her, and though she only gave it to me because of her son, I was grateful.
In an instant, those who’d been sitting on the fence in their opinion of me smiled for the first time. They would go along with whatever the head of the family said.
“Are you hungry?” Dyrel’s mom said.
I nodded.
“Yes,” I said. “Very.”
She took me by the hand and led me across the room and into the dining hall.
I cast a glance over my shoulder at Dyrel, who beamed and nodded.
He might not be at my side, but I was not nervous anymore. The worst of the evening was over. I had met his mother. All I had to do now was play out our little scene.
How wrong I was.
Dinner was as sumptuous as I expected in surroundings that reminded me of Downton Abbey. The servants moved as if part of a choreographed dance.
Dyrel’s mom sat at the head of the table with Dyrel on her right and me on her left. Even I knew this was a seat of honor. The rest of the family took up the chairs down either side all the way to the end.
Everywhere except at the far end where a single plate sat with cutlery around the edges. A servant filled the glass with wine but no one drank from it. Dyrel’s mom glanced at it often. I realized that despite him having died years ago, she still cared very much for her husband.
She picked up her wine glass and got to her feet.
Everyone else did likewise.
“We’re here today to celebrate not just another family gathering, but our latest addition,” she said. “Times have been… difficult for Dyrel. They’ve been difficult for us all. Now, perhaps, he might be ready to rejoin our family and take his rightful place at the head of the table. Time will tell. But I do know, it will not be possible without the right woman on his arm. I can tell he has chosen well in the form of Vicky. And so, I raise a toast to Dyrel and Vicky, and hope we can look forward to getting to know you better over the years and decades to come.”
They raised their glasses first to the empty chair at the head end of the table, then Dyrel’s mom, then to Dyrel and me.
They took a sip of their wine and sat back down again.
I glanced across the table at Dyrel. He wiggled his eyebrows and beamed at me. I glanced at his hand on the pristine dining table cloth and wished I could take it.
The servants brought the meals and placed them in front of us. They removed the silver lids. I recognized it immediately.
“Do you like Titan food?” Dyrel’s mom said.
“Yes,” I said. “The other day, Dyrel brought me a cream cake from an animal called a hexadodron. It was really delicious.”
Dyrel’s mom laughed. It was high-pitched like chimes blowing in the wind.
“That was always Dyrel’s favorite as a boy,” she said. “He used to eat so many we thought he was going to become a fat little boy.”
“Mom…” Dyrel said, embarrassed.
