28
The kitchen was lovely – more Real Simple ideas at work, with a couple of pretty flower arrangements and a tiny herb garden in one of those round, space-age terrariums you buy at Bed, Bath & Beyond. There wasn’t too much in the cupboards, so we ate potato chips and carrot sticks with dip as we sat around the island in the middle of the kitchen.
After a few minutes, I heard whispering behind us. Two little brown-haired girls, about 9 and 12, were poking their heads around the corner, watching us. As soon as they saw me look at them, they burst into giggles and darted out of sight.
“Hey – who’s that back there?” Derek said loudly.
More giggling, and then the little girls came tearing around the corner and slid into the kitchen on their socks.
“Hi Derrrrrrek!” they both shouted at once, and dissolved into giggles again.
“Hello, ladies!”
“Out!” Ryan shouted.
“AWWWWW!” they complained.
“Come on, man, they can stay,” Derek said good-naturedly.
Ryan grumbled and ordered them to behave. They both stuck their tongues out at him and proceeded to moon over Derek, hanging on every word he said.
“Uh-oh, you have competition,” Shanna whispered in my ear.
I just rolled my eyes at her.
“This is Kaitlyn and Shanna,” Derek said. “Kaitlyn and Shanna, this is Bob and this is Marley.”
“THAT’S NOT OUR NAMES!” they shrieked at the same time.
“Whaaaaa? It’s not?” Derek said, astounded.
“I’m Mara!” the older one said.
“And I’m Casey!” the smaller one shouted.
“Wait – are you sure?” Derek frowned.
They loved it. Eventually, though, they glanced over at me and Shanna.
“Are they your girrrrrlfriends?” the nine-year-old asked. I expected her to start singing Derek and Kaitlyn, sittin’ in a tree… K-I-S-S-I-N-G…
“Not yet,” Derek said, and winked at me – which made my stomach flutter. “But we’re workin’ on it.”
Shanna looked over at me with a OoooOOOOH look.
I rolled my eyes again.
Somebody else had a reaction, too: Mara, the tween. She shot me icy daggers I would have expected from somebody twice her age.
Maybe I did have competition.
It was pretty funny, though.
Derek saw her, and immediately leaned over and gave her a noogie. “But YOU will always be my real girlfriends,” he said as he lightly rubbed his knuckle into Mara’s head.
She shrieked and forgot all about me.
Derek apparently had all women wrapped around his little finger, even the prepubescent ones.
“We heard you singing Katy Perry!” they shouted.
“I was practicing for you,” Derek said seriously.
“We wanna hear Katy Perry!” they whined.
“Next time,” Derek promised, laughing.
“We wanna hear Katy Perrrrryyyy!”
“You see?” Ryan asked in exasperation. “It’s like a stray dog – you feed it once, you let it hang around, and it never freakin’ leaves.”
“I’m gonna tell Mom you said a bad word!” the little one shrieked.
“Freakin’s not a bad word,” Ryan snapped.
“It’s gettin’ a little too close for comfort,” a Southern-accented voice said behind us.
A woman walked into the kitchen. She was probably mid-40’s, pretty, blonde, and conservatively dressed in a business suit. She was a lot shorter than Ryan, but she was still pretty tall in her heels – maybe even taller than me.
“Hello, Derek,” she said, and ruffled his hair as she passed by.
“Hi, Mrs. Miller,” Derek said affably.
“Mom!” the little girls shrieked in a chorus.
She kissed their heads and turned to kiss Ryan’s cheek – but he recoiled visibly.
“Moooom,” he said, embarrassed, and motioned with his head towards us.
Ryan’s mother turned and looked at us – first at me, then at Shanna, then at Shanna’s prominently displayed cleavage.
Mrs. Miller’s demeanor cooled down noticeably after that.
“Friends of yours?” she asked with a chill in her voice.
“They’re Derek and Ryan’s girlllfrieeends!” the littlest one cackled, like she’d just gotten them in trouble.
Maybe she had. Mrs. Miller raised her eyebrows slightly.
“No we’re not, we just came over to hear them play,” I said nervously, and extended my hand. “I’m Kaitlyn.”
She took my hand and warmed up a little. “Hello, Kaitlyn.”
“I’m Shanna,” Shanna said. She waved half-heartedly, put her elbows on the countertop, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She was no fool.
“Hello,” Mrs. Miller said a little less warmly, then turned to Ryan. “And will Derek and your friends be staying for dinner?”
“Uhhhhh… we hadn’t really discussed that,” Ryan said, looking at me.
“No. We don’t want to impose,” I said.
“Ah, come on. She feeds me all the time,” Derek said jovially.
“That’s true,” Mrs. Miller admitted, and gave him a playful scolding look. “And you’re eatin’ me out of house and home.”
“Noooooo, never,” Derek grinned back.
She smiled, then turned back to Ryan. “But I was going to fix spaghetti, and I don’t have enough hamburger meat and sauce for everybody.”
“We’ll get it,” Derek volunteered. “We can go to the store.”
“No, really,” I said, “that’s too much trouble – ”
“If y’all go get it, it’s no trouble at all,” Mrs. Miller said.
“Yaaaaayyyy!” the little girls cheered. “Derek’s gonna stay for dinner!”
“I guess we’re staying,” Shanna whispered.
I didn’t roll my eyes this time.