Nat waves her hand and snorts. "We'll throw your bike in the back of my SUV. And Remy? Don't worry about him. He'll be thrilled to see you. Anyway, Ma likes it when I bring friends home. I'm bringing you as my friend, not Remy's… whatever you are."
Usually, men don't want to bring theirwhateversto their parents either, but I shrug.
"Okay. Why not?" I say, setting off to put the frozen food back in the cooler.
A ball of anxiety lodges in my chest as I follow Natalia into the Hastings' sprawling home.
While Remy hasn't told me much about his childhood, I know that he grew up in this house, which is near downtown Cypress Grove and isn’t all that far from mine. And it's not a surprise that the feel of the place is very much like him: open, warm, and laid-back. I imagine Remy as an adorable, dark-haired boy running through the rambling house. Will he ever tell me about his adventures as a boy? Or as a teen? Will we ever get to the point where we discuss each other's pasts?
And will I want to tell him more about mine? I've given him the abbreviated version, featuring the palatable and not-too-depressing details.
"Ma," Nat hollers. "I found a friend at the store and brought her home."
I follow her down a hallway, peeking into a few spaces — a sunny living room with a huge, flat screen TV, a dining room with a large table set for at least twelve, a messy office — and into a massive kitchen that's best described as having a beach farmhouse style. It's done up with white cabinets and blonde wood, with touches of yellow everywhere, including a massive bouquet of sunflowers on a small table.
The air smells like garlic and the tang of tomato sauce, laced with a hint of vanilla, and it makes my stomach rumble.
There's only one person in the room, and she's a slight woman with the longest, most extraordinary, silvery-black hair I've ever seen. She turns, and now I understand where Remy gets his stunning looks. Her eyes are the same color as Remy's, and they positively glitter like gemstones. She also has Remy's tawny skin color, and when she smiles, her entire face lights up. The oversized, silver, chandelier earrings she's wearing are like teeny wind chimes.
"Hi, I'm Ginger," she says, extending her hand. She's barefoot and wearing a long, gauzy dress that looks like a Moroccan tile pattern with bright yellows and blues.
"I'm Leilani. It's wonderful to meet you. Love, love, love your dress."
"Thank you. I love your name. Welcome to our home. Natalia, did you get the ice cream?"
Natalia's stuffing the quarts of ice cream into a jam-packed freezer. She pulls out a white plastic bag. "Bought the last three cartons. Can we get rid of this to make room? What's in here, anyway?"
"Wonderful. Yes, take that out. It's marrow bones for Steve. We can thaw them in the fridge. Leilani, your name sounds familiar. Are you Remy's…" Her voice trails off and her lips turn up into a smile. “He’s told me all about you.”
"I'm Remy'swhatever, yes." I let out a laugh, and when Mrs. Hastings winks, my heart surges.
He's mentioned me to his mom.
"He's been a little cagey about the details, but I can tell he's smitten with you," she grins. "Plus, I might have peeked at the cards."
I open my mouth, but can't do anything but smile. He's smitten? Squee. Oh, crap. I'm smitten too. Right now, it's dawning on me that I'm thinking of Remy as more than a friend with benefits. And it's adorable how his mother reads Tarot. Remy had mentioned that in passing.
"Oh, Remy's smitten, all right," Nat chimes in.
"What is it that you do, dear?" Mrs. Hastings asks. "The tarot indicated something with water."
"Your tarot is very accurate. I'm a mermaid. Well, and a bar owner. I'm opening a mermaid-themed place here in town, where the Crab Trap used to be."
She claps her hands together and laughs. "That's the most wonderful thing I've ever heard. I love it."
Just then, more female voices waft into the room. I look over to see Isabella and Lauren strolling into the kitchen. Lauren squeals and rushes to my side, hugging me. Isabella's holding Steve, and I go to scratch his head. She hoists the dog into my arms, and I snuggle him while Nat pours several glasses of chardonnay.
"He had a bath today, which is why he smells better than usual," Isabella says.
I press my nose to the top of his head. "Apricots?"
"Yeah, I bought this new oatmeal-apricot dog shampoo. I wash him in the tub myself." Isabella looks unusually proud of this fact and I don't quite grasp why. Maybe she's normally the kind of person who pays someone else to take her dog to the groomer. Of Natalia, Lauren, Kate, and her, she's the one I knowleast. I suspect she's a little shy, because she isn't boisterous and chatty like the other women.
Within minutes, we're all talking and drinking wine. I feel so instantly accepted that I almost forget that I'm the whatever of one of the residents of this house.
"Where's Kate?" I take a sip of my wine.
"She's at the bar. Sundays are a big day, they're doing trivia." Lauren reaches for her wine.