A young, pretty girl named Jane in a pink sundress. Jewel, who I’d already met; her wife, Gwen, a blue-haired Asian woman with a nose ring. Jill, a petite woman with Jacob’s auburn hair in capri pants and a conservative white blouse, and her burly husband, Walter, a Black man wearing a T-shirt for a pit-bull rescue. An old man on oxygen in an electric wheelchair rolled in and bumped into my leg and then sat there glaring up at me in silence. Someone introduced him as Grandpa. He ignored me when I said hello.
The man who I assumed was Jacob’s dad hovered behind the crowd like he was waiting for the chaos to settle before he said hi. And then an older woman in a flowing paisley top with dangling earrings and arms full of jingling bell bracelets parted the crowd and came right in for a hug.
I’d say that all of this would be overwhelming, except that when Mom took us back to El Salvador to visit, I did this exact thing times a hundred at every single family gathering. It took a full hour just to walk around and say hi to all my cousins and their families. This was nothing. And the rules were universal and simple: You smiled, acknowledged everyone, and asked how you could help with whatever they were doing. I knew how to handle this and was completely relaxed. But a glance at Jacob told me he was on the verge of a panic attack on my behalf. I gave him a reassuring smile over his mom’s shoulder before she pulled away.
“I’m Joy,” the woman said, grinning warmly at me. She looked a little familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Maybe she just looked like Jacob? “It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” she said.
I smiled. “You too.”
The older man made his move as the rest of the crowd started to disperse back into the house. He came up next to his wife. “I’m Greg, Jacob’s dad. So pleased to have you.”
Jacob looked a lot like his dad. They sort of had the same mellow energy.
I nodded to Jacob, who had stepped in to stand next to me now that there was room. “We picked up a raccoon for you on the way over,” I said.
Greg lit up. “You did?”
“It’s in the truck,” Jacob said.
His dad rubbed his hands together. “Well, let’s get it.”
Greg edged past me and left out the front door with Jacob, leaving me with Grandpa, the dog, and Joy.
A timer went off somewhere.
Joy looked toward the sound. “Oh, I need to go pull that.” She gestured for me to follow. “Come on, we’ll get you a drink,” she said, already heading down the hall with Lieutenant Dan at her heels.
I snapped my fingers. “Shoot,” I said, remembering. “We left the wine in Jacob’s truck. Let me run and grab that real quick.”
“Okay. Kitchen’s down this hallway,” she called, still walking. Then she disappeared around a doorway and I was alone with the old man.
I smiled at him and he glared at me. “Give me a cigarette or I’ll tell Jacob you’re hittin’ on me. You got five minutes.”
I choked on a laugh. “What?”
“One cigarette and you roll me out to the gazebo and cover for me.”
I shook my head at him. “Sir, you are on oxygen.”
“What the hell is it to you? I’m gonna kick the bucket anyway! I’m half dead already. One cigarette. If you get me a whole pack, I’ll give you my Purple Heart.”
I had to fight to keep my face straight. “I’m afraid I can’t do that for you.”
He narrowed his watery eyes.
Just then Jacob let himself back into the vestibule holding the wine from the truck. His dad wasn’t with him. Grandpa jabbed a finger at me. “She’s hittin’ on me!”
Jacob paused, looking back and forth between us.
“It’s true,” I said. “He’s handsome. I can’t help myself.”
The old man scowled. He made a little fake lunge at me with his chair. Then he turned, pinning me with an impressive nonblinking glare, and left the room.
I turned to my fake date and smiled. This was seriously so much fun.
Jacob set the wine down on the bench by the door, looking exhausted. “I’m sorry.”
I laughed. “For what?”
“That?” He nodded in the direction Grandpa had wheeled off in.
“Who says he’s lying?”
He let out a snort.
“I told you it was going to be a lot,” he said.
“Jacob, I have twenty-two first cousins in El Salvador,” I said, taking off my shoes and setting them next to everyone else’s. “This is nothing. You should just relax.”
I nodded to the way he came. “You should go do stuff with your dad or something. Skin your dead raccoon. I’ll hang out with your mom in the kitchen.”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to leave you alone with them.”
“What’s gonna happen?”
He slipped his hands into his pockets and peered at me wordlessly, and I imagined those wheels turning again, running through every scenario that could possibly end in disaster.
“Okay,” I said. “Then come with me. But chill out. I’m having a good time.”
He clearly didn’t believe me.
I sighed. I was glad I’d made tonight work because if this was too much, the next one with the brother and the ex would have been a disaster.
This place was an introvert’s nightmare for sure. Loud, overcrowded. Lots of social expectations crammed into a tiny window of time coupled with the stress of introducing a new person to his family. The worry that we wouldn’t pull off this charade.
The next time he wouldn’t have that pressure because we will have gotten it out of the way. He’d still have to deal with all the rest of it, but at least the two of us would have worked out the kinks of this arrangement by then.
I nodded to the house. “Come on. Give me a tour.”
I suggested this on purpose to give him a chance to decompress before we joined the group again. I could tell immediately it was the right thing. He let out a breath that sounded relieved and nodded for me to follow him.
The house was enormous. I got the feeling it was the family hub. It was built for entertaining. The basement had a full bar and so did the pool. There was a water slide and a pool house with a nice outdoor BBQ. They had a movie room and a very comfy, very large living room where the twins were playing on a PlayStation. A big dining room with a table that seated twenty and lots of guest rooms.
“Did you ever live here?” I asked as we strolled past the open door of a guest room strewn with the twins’ toys.
“I grew up here.”
“Ohhhh,” I said, turning to smile at him. “Show me your room.”
“It’s not the same as when I was a kid. Dad uses it now,” he said.
“I still want to see it.”
I stopped at a bookshelf off the hallway. There were framed photos tucked in with the books—a picture of Jacob in eighth grade. His hair stuck up every which way and he had braces and an overbite.
Damn. Puberty hit this man like a bus. The glow up was unreal.
“Oh, look at that,” I said, spotting a book I knew. “Love Shows Up. I read this.” I tapped the spine.
“Mom wrote that.”
I froze. “What?”
“She’s a couples counselor and sex therapist. Bestselling author. She has a PhD in clinical sexology. She’s also a board-certified OB-GYN.”
I turned slowly to stare at him in horror. Then I hustled him into the nearest room and closed the door behind us.
“Please tell me you’re kidding,” I whispered.
He blinked at me in confusion.
“Your mom is Dr. J. Maddox? A world-renowned relationship expert? Are you serious, Jacob? You didn’t feel like this was something you should have mentioned?”
He looked positively baffled.
I shook my head at him. “It is literally her job to call bullshit on us.”