“I feel like I forgot something,” Erin says again as we deplane with carry-ons after our red-eye. We both managed to nap in the first-class seats, and her eyes are still soft and hazy with sleep. It’s seriously adorable.
“You’ve been saying that since we left L.A. What could you have possibly forgotten?”
I’m the one who should be worrying about forgetting something. Well, technically I haven’t forgotten. But I haven’t had a chance to make the engagement more permanent, either. There was a crisis late last week when plans for one of our major campaigns fell through at the last minute and necessitated us working day and night…through the weekend and beyond. Every waking moment was spent in meetings and crisis management. This is the first time since Erin took cookies to work that we’ve had a break.
But the birthday party’s tomorrow. I just need to find a way to smoothly tell her we should be in a relationship for real before that. Maybe tonight, after she sees everyone in the family and realizes that they’ll accept her the way she is, without any weird ulterior motives like that fucking Fordham. That would best.
Or not. Maybe I should just do it as soon as possible once we’re settled in my parents’ house.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be so bugged by it,” Erin says, interrupting my train of thought. “You know that vague feeling you get, like you’re missing something?”
“Nope,” I say, squeezing her hand. “Even if you forgot something, who cares? We’re in Virginia, not some remote part of the Amazonian jungle. Mom has the newest Echo and Amazon Prime. I bet the latest firmware update for Echo comes with the brain-wave detection functionality, capable of reading your mind and delivering what you need before you even realize you need it.”
Erin laughs. “I don’t think it’s quite that advanced.”
“You never know. The second you enter my parents’ home, an Amazon drone might drop whatever you forgot in your lap.” I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss it. “Besides, the only thing my parents care about is that you’re here.”
She nods. But no matter what I say, she’s going to be nervous, especially when she’s operating with a slight sleep deficit. Just getting this over with might be better. She’s convinced she’s going to commit a faux pas or two. She doesn’t understand that my parents won’t care. Mom’s probably already designing a nursery, and Dad’s happily assisting for the sake of marital harmony. He’s too smart to fight with her about this.
I spot Mom by the luggage carousel and wave. Her face splits into a huge grin and she rushes over. As always, she’s full of energy and verve, her glossy black hair glinting under the fluorescent lights. She’s in a fitted shirt with cropped jeans and sneakers. She believes in being beautiful, functional and comfortable. She hugs me, and I hug her back. My mom hugs the best, with all the warmth and squeezy love that lets you know everything’s right with the world.
She lets me go to hug Erin too. Erin stiffens for a moment, then hugs her back. Mom holds her a second longer than she held me, maybe to compensate for the flinching. And I thank my lucky stars my mother is so freakin’ awesome. This is my chance to show Erin what she gets by being with me for real, because my family comes with me. Even though we live far apart right now, we’re a package deal. Every Darling has the others’ backs.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” Mom says. “Was the flight okay? Did you get any sleep? I hate transcontinental red-eyes. They’re never long enough for a decent night’s rest.”
I laugh. “Mom, slow down and give us a chance to answer.”
“Of course. So…?”
“It was an excellent flight. We also napped a little,” Erin says, all polite and proper.
I pat her hand, hoping the gesture soothes her anxiety. Hopefully, spending some time with my family will help her relax so she can enjoy herself for the rest of the weekend.
“Good to hear. Now, let me see your ring.” She looks down at Erin’s finger, then gasps with both hands over her mouth. “Oh my goodness, it’s gorgeous! I love the color. Ruby is so chic, you know? Very fiery and unique. Diamonds are great, too, but you only get married once, so you might as well get the stone you really want.”
Erin flushes, her shoulders relaxing some more. “Thank you.”
And I give silent thanks as well, for my mom being so damn cool and putting Erin at ease.
“I’m sorry Eddie isn’t here, but he had a teleconference he couldn’t miss. Work, you know?” Mom says with a long-suffering sigh. Dad works for the company too. “But he’s working from home this morning, then heading to the office later. He’s dying to see you now that you’re family,” Mom says. “Do we need to wait for luggage?” She gestures at the baggage claim.
“No. We only have carry-ons,” I say.
“Smart. Let’s go, then. And I’ll feed you my French toast with berries. I already have everything prepped, so it won’t take any time at all.” She looks at Erin. “I make a mean French toast. Once you go Sun Li Darling, you never go back.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Erin says with a small smile.
I pat her hand again, wishing she could taste things, but also respecting her decision not to bring it up. Now that I know Erin better, I understand she might never bring it up. She knows that cooking and feeding the family is a big deal to my mom, and admitting that she can’t taste anything would be terribly upsetting and sad for Mom.
“You’ll love it. I’ve been cooking for Jan every weekend, and I’ve perfected my previous perfection even more. That poor child is struggling to find anything that she can keep down.” Mom shakes her head. “I think she’s losing weight. A pregnant woman should be plump. But not too plump, because then it’s hard to lose the poundage after you have your baby. Anyway, you’ll get to see her and see what I mean. Poor Jan.”
Mom has a special place in her heart for Jan. We all do. She lost her parents when she was little, and my parents and uncles and aunts all have done their best to fill the void left by that terrible loss.
The drive home is short and quiet. Mom doesn’t say much, but she isn’t a big talker when she drives. She says she needs to concentrate on the road, especially these days when there are so many distracted “idiots” who can’t seem to pull their gazes off their phones long enough bother with something trivial like traffic safety.
When we arrive home, I see Dad’s new Porsche in the garage. It’s the birthday present he bought himself this year. We get out of Mom’s Escalade. She tosses me the keys. “You can use this while you’re home.”
“I thought you’d let me have the BMW,” I say, eyeing the sweet blue convertible. Dad bought it for her for the anniversary.