On His Turf (16 page)

“Meet your family? Isn’t that a little soon?”

“You can leave your car at work and I’ll drive you in tomorrow,” he instructs, totally ignoring my comment. “I’ll pick you up at five.”

“But wait - I’m not ready! I don’t even have a change of clothes!” I protest.

“What are you wearing?” he asks and I look down at my royal blue blouse and gray pencil skirt.

“Work clothes!” I shout and he chuckles. “I’m sure it’s perfect. See you at five.” He hangs up before I can talk my way out of it and I stare at the phone dumbfounded.

“Catching flies?” Leigh’s voice interrupts me as she takes up residence on the edge of my desk.

“Huh?”

“Your mouth is hanging open and you look like you’re about ready to swallow the phone. What’s up?”

“Shane wants me to meet his parents tonight,” I answer sounding more than I little stunned.

“Wow…so it is serious,” she nods thoughtfully.

“That’s the thing it’s not serious. We have had a sum total of zero conversations about the direction of our ‘relationship’ and we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. I’m not even sure if we are exclusive!” I yell, a little too loudly and the front receptionist gives me a dirty look.

“Are you sleeping with anyone else?” she asks and I snort.

“What do you think?”

“Is he sleeping with anyone else?”

“I don’t think so,” I answer honestly.

“There you go - you’re exclusive. So stop obsessing over the little details and start thinking about how you want to present yourself to his parents.”

“Present myself?” I laugh shortly. “I was planning on going as say, I don’t know, me?”

“I forget how naïve you are, grasshopper.” Leigh pats my hand soothingly. “They’re his parents - they are going to be reading into and interpreting every little look, every touch and every word that comes out of that pretty little mouth of yours. Trust me, I know about this.”

“Well now I really can’t wait to go.” I let my shoulders sag and Leigh hops off my desk and blows me a kiss as she leaves.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

***

Shane’s parents live about an hour outside of Austin on the north shore of Lake Travis. I’m nervous for most of the ride and I can’t stop fidgeting which only gets worse when we reach the entrance of a massive estate property. As the wrought iron gates swing open he leans over and grabs my hands to steady them.

“Relax, you’re fine,” he says reassuringly, giving me one last squeeze.

As the car rolls up the long driveway I take in the perfectly manicured lawn sprinkled with mature trees and colorful flowerbeds. At the end of the drive he parks in front of a sprawling rancher with a stone and cedar exterior and a wrap-around porch. To the left is a standalone three car garage and beyond that a big red barn and horse pen.

“We have five acres of fenced pasture,” he tells me as he climbs out of the truck. I hop down from the cab just as two big dogs lumber over to greet us. One of them licks my hand and I bend down to scratch behind its floppy brown ears.

“That’s Ace and the other one is Beau,” he introduces them.

“He’s beautiful,” I say, laughing when Ace’s rough tongue darts out to lick my cheek.

“He’s a flirt; just ignore him.”

Shane holds his hand out and I take a deep breath before accepting it. I’ve gotten myself all riled up thanks to Leigh so I’m a little surprised when no one swarms us at the door. He leads me into the foyer which is all high ceilings and exposed wood beams and through to the country kitchen and open living area at the back of the house. I suck in an awed breath as I take in the panoramic view. It’s just after six and the sun is casting a rosy glow off the lake that makes the water seem to almost sparkle.

“What do you think?” he smiles.

“There aren’t even words,” I say truthfully. “I can’t believe you grew up here.”

He motions for me to follow him out back to the sprawling deck that has a large patio table on it. He pulls out a chair and as I sit down I take in the rectangular in-ground pool and outdoor fireplace, and beyond that a stretch of sandy white beach.

“This really is waterfront,” I say as my eyes follow a path of unlit lanterns to the shoreline.

“Nine hundred feet of it to be exact,” he laughs. “But the sands not original - dad brought that in.”

“Where is your family?” I ask.

“Hovering probably,” he says smirking. “I told them to hide out so I could show you around first. Do you want to sit here and wait for them or do you want the grand tour?”

“Grand tour!” I say nervously as I jump to my feet and he laughs.

“I’ve never seen you this flustered before,” he grins. “It’s kind of cute.”

I glare at him over my shoulder as I walk back toward the home. He shows me the rest of the five bedroom, six bathroom four thousand square foot house. We linger for a while in his bedroom as I take my time studying the soccer trophies, sports pennants and bikini posters. When I sit down on his bed he grins so widely that I think his face is going to split in two.

“What?” I say, glancing around suspiciously.

“Nothing. It’s just been a long time since I’ve had a girl in my room and never one this hot before.” His eyes darken takes a step toward the bed and I crawl backwards on my hands toward the pillows.

“Not happening, Shane. Your parents are somewhere downstairs.”

He takes another step closer as his eyes travel greedily over my body but I’m quick enough that I’m able to duck under his arm and head for the door.

“Like I said - not happening,” I protest.

He tickles my ribs and I giggle as he leads me to the stairs but a door at the end of the hall catches my attention. It’s closed and it’s not somewhere we stopped on the tour.

“Whose room is that?” I say curiously and his eyebrows slam down.

“No one’s,” he answers and I’m taken aback by the change in his tone. As he tugs me away I quickly scan the family photos that line the walls. There are school photos of his brothers along team sports photos of Shane, one that looks like his parent’s wedding photo and a family shot with a teenage-looking Shane and three other boys - one close to his age and the other two babies.

Before I have time to really process what I’m seeing he’s leading me back downstairs to the kitchen to where a woman is hard at work kneading dough. When she sees us she comes around the counter and pulls me into a hug, though she’s careful not to touch me with her floury hands. She pulls back and wipes them on her apron as she beams at me.

“You must be Carmelina. It’s so nice to finally meet the girl my son can’t stop talking about!”

“Mom!” Shane yells but she just shushes him.

“Well aren’t you just as cute as a possum!” she adds and he groans. I personally don’t know what, if anything, is cute about a possum but I’m willing to go with it for her sake. “Now don’t have a hissy fit Shane Patrick Mitchell, I won’t break the baby albums out just yet,” she teases and I laugh.

“Can I help with anything?” I ask, breaking up the banter and she claps in delight.

“That’d be wonderful, dear. Shane mentioned that you love to cook.”

“He did now?” I say, raising an eyebrow at him and he shrugs. It makes me wonder how much he’s actually shared with them about me considering I know almost nothing about them. I join Mrs. Mitchell, who insists that I call her Brenda, back at the island and she hands me a wad of cold dough.

The kitchen is welcoming and cozy in the way that country kitchens usually are complete with its distressed wood cabinets painted antique ivory and the large stone hearth that’s built over the range. The same wide plank floors from the front hallway are continued in here and from the homey touches like the braided rug, frayed rooster potholders and black bottomed copper pots hanging from the ceiling rack it’s clear that this is a well-loved room. Natural light streams in from the overhead skylight and the mingled smells of cinnamon and fresh-baked bread fill my nose. Brenda hands me a circular cookie cutter and I follow her lead in shaping out the buttermilk biscuits. Shane leans back against the counter and watches us with interest as I pound out the chilled dough.

“Do you cook much at home?” Brenda asks while concentrating on her task and I look up at her. Her honey blond hair is pulled back into a chignon but a few wisps have escaped around her tanned face. She has dark blue eyes that crinkle slightly at the corners but an otherwise youthful face. She’s shorter than me and a little plump but her rounded curves suit her frame perfectly.

“Whenever I can though it’s sometimes hard to justify for just one person. To be honest some nights I end up having cereal or popcorn for dinner,” I admit embarrassedly.

“I remember those days well,” she sighs. “Though I wasn’t too long out of college when I met Shane’s father.” She tells me that she went to culinary school to be a pastry chef and worked for a short while at a high-end hotel in Austin. “We got married after only a month of dating and next thing you know Shane was coming along.”

“That’s so romantic,” I say.

“More like impulsive,” she giggles. “But now I get to use my pastry skills for all the handsome men in my life,” she says, spinning on her heel to retrieve an apple pie from the oven. When she rests it on the counter my mouth literally starts to water.

“Good thing I didn’t grow up here - I’d be huge!” I say on a sigh and she titters.

“Hush now, look at you. You couldn’t be fat. I would’ve killed for a body like that at your age.”

“It is a nice body,” Shane agrees, clearing his throat and I give him a look over my shoulder at the same time one of the double ovens on the wall starts to beep.

“That’ll be ready for my biscuits,” she chimes so I hand over my completed tray. She pops the tray in then pulls two wine glasses out of the cupboard.

“Can I offer you a glass?” she offers and I nod.

“Sure, I’d love one.”

“White or red?”

“Whatever you’re having,” I answer and she fills our glasses generously with a bottle of chardonnay she unearths from the refrigerator. She hands one to me and clinks my glass before taking a big sip.

“What about me?” Shane protests.

“Beers in the fridge, son,” she winks conspiratorially at me as she takes another long pull of the wine.

“Shane also tells me that you’re a journalist?” she asks politely and I shake my head.

“No, but I would like to be. I’m just an Assistant at the Observer at present.”

“Never say just, darlin’,” a loud voice booms and I look over to see a man wiping his cowboy boots on the side-door mat.

“Pardon me?” I say, swallowing down my mouthful of wine.

“Never say ‘just’. It’s diminishing,” he repeats, placing his hands on his lean, narrow hips. He’s wearing wranglers and an untucked plaid shirt and his silver hair is all mussed up. At first glance I find his appearance is at odds with the world renowned neonatal surgeon I was expecting but his clear, sharp eyes tell me a lot more about him than his outfit does.

“You must be Carmelina.” He steps forward and I hold my hand out to shake but instead he grabs my cheeks and lays a kiss on my lips with a loud smack.

“Dad!” Shane shouts at the same time Brenda swats him with a tea towel and says, “you ole cuss!” She frowns in mock disapproval and he holds his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry, son, but I couldn’t help myself,” he answers as Shane sidles up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. It’s an intimate and claiming gesture and I blush in response, unprepared for a display of affection in front of his parents.

“You are going to scare her off.”

His father gives me a wink before turning his eyes to his son. “I’d hold on to this beauty if I were you.” This time he does extend his hand and I shake it. “I’m Mike Mitchell and thank you for joining us this evening.” Mike is slender and even taller than Shane’s six foot one, and looking between both his mom and dad it’s easy to see where he got his good looks from.

“It’s my pleasure,” I say shyly and Shane’s arms tighten around me.

Two teenage boys come bounding into the kitchen but they both stop when they see me and the one closest to me whistles.

“Colby,” Shane says and there’s a warning tone to his voice.

“What? She’s hot, bro.”

“Yeah, too hot for you,” the other one snickers and Brenda gives them a chastising look.

“Is that how I raised you to speak to a lady?” Shane’s father bellows and both boys bow their heads and mutter a round of ‘sorries’.

The one closest to me steps forward and introduces himself as Colby and his brother as Caleb. On the way in Shane reminded me that they were twins and I can see now that they are identical in every sense of the word. Their hair is a darker blond than Shane’s and they both wear it long enough for the ends to stick out of the bottoms of their backwards baseball caps. Their eyes are a golden hazel color and like Shane they are tall, but they still have some of the lankiness that comes with youth. I also know from Shane that they are on their first summer break from college. After the initial awkwardness passes Shane rushes over and pulls them both into a firm embrace that’s followed by a lot of back slapping. From the look in Shane’s eyes it’s clear how much he adores his brothers and watching how playful they are makes me wish I had siblings of my own to torment.

“How’s school?” Shane asks and they talk about their classes for a bit.

“Either of you punks have girlfriends yet?” Shane snorts and they both fall silent. I notice that Caleb looks away with a grimace and I figure there must be a story there.

“Nah, no girlfriends. Lots of girls though if you know what I mean.”

“Colby James Mitchell you watch your mouth!” Brenda shouts. “Now all of you get on over to the table!”

Mike ushers me into the adjacent dining room that holds a large harvest table that is surrounded by eight wooden chairs. The table flanks a wall of bright, airy windows and a ceiling fan churns above it. The walls are decorated with more rooster folk art and a weathered antique china cabinet sits in the corner. I take the chair next to Shane and inhale the delicious scents of fried chicken, fresh biscuits and sautéed green beans.