“I’m good,” I lie. “Just had too much coffee.”
His knowing smile and shake of his head suggest he’s not buying my line of crap. So, I do what any girl would–change the subject.
“This is a really nice neighborhood. Do all of your siblings in the area?”
His eyes brighten and an aura of pure love radiates from him. “Yeah, my older two live just a few miles from each other and my younger two are in Ft. Collins at CSU. They come home often though. Family dinners every Sunday, you know.”
I simply listen and nod, envious of his close-knit family. I get along with my family well, but we are a small, quiet crew. I’m picturing Royce’s family as a loud, almost overwhelming group, which makes me even more nervous but also excited.
We pull into the idyllic driveway lined with perfectly manicured bushes. The white picket fence and wrap-around porch are Leave It to Beaver overload, and I can barely hide my jealousy. When I was a little girl and I pictured what my adult life would look like, this was what I wanted. The house, the huge family with so many grandchildren I would call out ten incorrect names before landing on the right one, and the husband who I would hold hands and grow old with, is what I envisioned.
But that’s not what I got dealt. My cards included lies, divorce, and loneliness.
I swallow down my sadness for a dream lost and put on the most convincing smile I can muster as Royce opens the car door and leads me up the pathway to the front door. He knocks on the large red door as he opens it.
“Becca! We’re here,” he shouts into the house.
We are immediately met by a very familiar brunette and my smile fades.
“Everyone is in the kitchen,” Hannah says with a warm greeting.
I turn toward Royce and narrow my eyes at him. I realize we aren’t together, but to invite me to a family gathering and also invite his whatever she is, is just sick and wrong. I never would have agreed if he had told me I would serve at the third wheel pity invite.
“It’s so good to see you again, Carly,” she says.
Turning back to her, I whip out my manners. “It’s good to see you too. I had no idea you were going to be here.”
“Yeah, me either, but Mom threw a fit when I said I was going to stay in Ft. Collins for the weekend. Royce told us all you were coming, so I cancelled plans with my boyfriend and drove down.”
My head snaps back and forth between the two of them.
“But I thought…” I begin to say. “But you said…” I can’t seem to make my brain function enough to make a complete sentence. Synapses are misfiring and all I can think is Blackhawk Down! Blackhawk Down!
“You’re not his sleeping buddy?” I finally spit out. Sleeping buddy? Did I just seriously ask his sister if he was her sleeping buddy? There is no amount of alcohol that will fix this massive blunder.
Her nose wrinkles and she looks to Royce, “Ewwww.”
“What’s ewwww?” a pretty blonde says, walking into the room.
“Oh, you know, Royce never told Carly I was his sister, so all this time, she thought I was sleeping with him,” she says disgustedly.
“Ewwww,” the blonde says, followed by a boisterous laugh. “Royce, if this sweet woman ever agrees to date you, I suggest you buy a lottery ticket because after putting her through this, you would be the luckiest man on Earth if she said yes,” she adds.
Royce attempts to defend himself, but his sisters shush him and Hannah speaks over him.
“I’m sorry, Carly,” Hannah says. “I thought he told you.”
“I’m Becca,” the blonde introduces herself, holding out her hand. “Please don’t let my brother’s poor social skills sway your feelings about our family. I promise, most of us are normal.” She pulls me into a hug and leads me into the kitchen where the rest of the family is.
There are smiling people completely filling the space. “Everyone, this is Carly,” Becca says when we enter the kitchen. She is still holding onto my shoulder, and Royce doesn’t try to pull me away. Instead, he follows close behind and allows his sister to run the show.
I offer a wave similar to the wave that Hannah once gave me and the girls. “Great to meet everyone,” I shyly say.
An older woman with shoulder-length silver hair moves around the kitchen island and briskly walks to me. As she gets closer, I can see where Royce and his sisters get their looks. She pulls me into a warm embrace and solidly wraps her arms around me.
“We’ve heard so many great things about you, hun. I’m glad my son finally got the guts to bring you around. You’re actually the first girl he’s ever brought home.”
My eyes widen and find Royce in the sea of people. He looks as uncomfortable as I feel. He swoops in and pulls me away from his mother.
“All right, womenfolk. That’s enough fawning; you’re going to scare her off,” he says, wrapping a tattooed arm around me. His mother smiles at his affectionate gesture. I feel like I’ve just been through some kind of auditioning process and I’ve moved onto the call back list. I just don’t know what I was interviewing for.
Royce
Carly spent the evening wiggling her way into my family’s hearts just as she has mine. She laughed with my sisters, listened to every embarrassing story my mom and dad shared, sang happy birthday for my niece, and even played a game of checkers with the kids. I knew they would love her, but I needed their green light before I pursued anything. My family means everything to me, so the girl I decide to date needs to mesh with everyone, and Carly meshes.
My mom wasn’t lying when she said I’ve never brought a girl home. I’ve never had a girlfriend to bring home. Have I slept with women? Fuck, I’m surprised my dick hasn’t fallen off. Have I actually dated any of them, or introduced them to my parents? Hell no.
Carly is different. She is settle down, wife and kids, growing old together different, and I’m willing to wait however long it takes to have the chance to be her different, her something special.
My mother’s words play over and over in my head as we walk back to the car after the party. ‘She’s a sweetheart, Royce. Don’t break her heart.’ Her words repeat in my head and are so damn true; I’m scared to death. I’ll do anything in my power not to hurt this woman. I just don’t know if she’ll give me the chance to prove it.
My shoes pound against the pavement and with each step I wish more and more that my sister had a longer driveway. We reach the car quicker than my courage can materialize, and when she reaches out for her door handle, it takes me a moment to realize it’s now or never.
“Wait, I have something for you,” I tell her, hitting the key remote to open the trunk.
She retracts her hand and stands surprised as I walk to the back of the car and pull out a large wrapped present.
“I think I’ve had enough surprises for one night,” she says with a giggle.
“I’m hoping you might actually want this one, though,” I say, handing her the gift. The box is huge; I could barely fit it in the trunk, and she has to set it on the cement to open it.
She looks at me suspiciously and I have to urge her to tear open the wrapping paper. When the flaps of the box open and reveal the hundreds of Ping-Pong balls inside, her brows pull together in confusion.
“There’s a card,” I explain before she can ask.
Reaching into the box, her hands maneuver around the little white balls trying to find the card. I want to laugh, but my nerves stifle the notion. She finally finds the envelope and rips it open, pulling out the card inside.
“I finally found the balls to ask you out,” she reads aloud.
Her silence has me freaking the fuck out. I was hoping to score points for creativity, but I’m thinking my move ended up immature. Just as I open my mouth to explain, grovel, apologize, take your pick, she burst into laughter.