Jett
Ireach over for Fallon’s hand in the car. I can’t not touch her. It’s a constant need.
Pulling her palm to my lips for a kiss, I smile over at her. “Why do you look so nervous?” I ask. “I’m the one meeting your parents.”
She blows out a breath. “My mom is a piece of work. I apologize in advance for anything and everything that comes out of her mouth tonight.”
Harper giggles from the backseat. “I’m telling Nanny you said that.”
Fallon looks back at her. “You stay quiet, young lady, or I’ll make you eat Nanny’s turkey at Thanksgiving.”
Harper’s face falls in horror, and I chuckle. “What’s wrong with her turkey?”
“It’s as dry as a mouthful of sand,” Fallon answers.
Harper nods. “Grandpa, that’s Daddy’s dad, almost choked at Thanksgiving two years ago.”
I look at Fallon. “You do Thanksgiving with Tanner’s extended family?”
She nods. “It’s just his dad. His mom died a long time ago.” She mouths, “And his brother is an asshole.”
“Got it.” They may have the most amicable divorce of all time. My parents don’t like to spend time together, let alone adding Ginny’s parents to the mix. I can’t imagine us as one big happy family like Fallon and Tanner’s, even when we were married. Certainly not after the divorce.
My eyes meet Harper’s in the rearview mirror. “Noted to steer clear of Nanny’s turkey.”
Harper giggles again. She’s so cute. “Poppy has an endless supply of ketchup packets. He collects them and secretly hands them to everyone to help get the turkey down.”
We pull up to an impressive Philadelphia suburban house. It’s way too much house for people who only live here for a few months a year.
The door swings open as we’re walking up the stairs, and an attractive woman, who very clearly is related to Fallon, opens the door.
I think Fallon said she’s nearly seventy, but she looks a few years younger than that.
She and Fallon share the same eyes and coloring.
She’s dressed nicely in brown slacks and a thin, cream-colored cardigan sweater set.
She smiles widely. “Oh wow, sweetie, he’s very handsome. And so large.”
Fallon tucks her lips behind her teeth and nods. “I’m aware, Mother.”
I chuckle as I hold out my hand. “I’m Jett. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
She pulls me in for a hug. “I’m Doris and very happy to meet you.”
I return her hug and then hand her a bottle of wine. “This is for you.”
She smiles as she examines it. “Thank you. And where’s my favorite little girl hiding?”
Harper runs and wraps her arms around Doris’s waist. “Hi, Nanny. I’m ebullient for our slumber party.” She’s doing a sleepover with her grandparents to give Fallon and me some much-needed alone time.
I need to carry a thesaurus to hang out with this kid.
Doris shakes her head in obvious pride and amusement. “I’m ebullient too. We’re going to make pancakes in the morning.”
Harper jumps up and down. “I love pancakes. Can we make pineapple pancakes like Bails does?”
Doris’s face falls. “We’ll see about that. That’s a little unusual, but I suppose I’m not surprised,” she says judgmentally.
Fallon clears her throat. “Mother, watch it,” she warns through gritted teeth.
Fallon explained that Doris is very judgmental about Tanner and Bailey’s relationship. In fact, she’s salty toward Tanner for hurting Fallon. I can’t say I blame Doris for that, but I understand why Fallon doesn’t want her saying anything bad about Tanner and Bailey in front of Harper.
An older man, who has a small belly and a full head of gray hair, approaches. “Why are we all standing in the door? It’s hotter than a two-dollar pistol. Doris, stop blocking them.” He waves his hand in invitation. “Come inside. I didn’t hear the doorbell. I think my hearing aid needs batteries.”
Doris explains to him that we didn’t ring it as I encourage Harper and Fallon to enter first, which they do, before I hold out my hand and introduce myself.
He returns the shake. “I’m Joel, proud grandfather of this little sparkplug.” He smiles down at Harper before hugging her.
“Hi, Poppy. Are you going to have a slumber party with Nanny and me?”
He shakes his head. “If I get into that tent Nanny put in your room, I’ll probably never get up again. They’ll have to bury me in there.”
Fallon rolls her eyes as she embraces him. “Dad, stop acting like you’re ninety. You’re fine.” She turns to me. “He plays golf or tennis every day. He still gets around well for a grumpy old fart.”
“Who are you calling a fart? The best thing about turning my hearing aids off when I go to bed is I don’t have to hear your mother’s farts.”
Doris smacks his arm. “Joel,” she chastises, “we have company. Behave.”
He winks at me. “Never.”
They’re a hoot.
We spend some time chatting before dinner while Harper showers and gets into her pajamas per Doris’s request. They ask all the normal questions about my kids.
When we sit down to dinner, Joel secretly passes Fallon, Harper, and me packets of ketchup. He quietly mumbles, “You’ll need it for the chicken.”
Fallon and Harper smile at each other in obvious unspoken amusement.
At some point, Doris looks at Fallon. “Any big plans for your fortieth? It’s right around the corner.”
Fallon sighs. “Yes, Mother, I know how much you like to remind me. We have a home game that day, and Jett has an away one. I’ve got my first mammogram the next day.
Amanda is hosting a dinner for me later that week, and Jett is taking me to Napa this fall to celebrate.
We’ll go for a long weekend during his bye week. ”
“Why Napa and not Sonoma?” Joel asks. “I thought Sonoma was where the better wines are made.”
I shake my head. “Not true at all. It’s a personal preference, but I prefer the bolder Napa red wines.
We’ll probably visit one Sonoma vineyard while we’re there because they make such great chardonnays, and Fallon loves pear-flavored chardonnay.
” I wink at her, and she giggles. Fallon tastes pear in every wine, even when she knows it’s not there.
There’s no pear in red wines, yet she insists she tastes it just to mess with me.
“Sonoma,” I continue, “is closer to the ocean, so it’s also a little colder. Given the time of year, I thought Napa would be better.” It’s also a little more exclusive, but I don’t want to come off as pretentious.
Joel nods in understanding while Doris’s face lights up as she claps her hands together. “Oh, how romantic. I’ve seen photos of weddings there…and a few engagements,” she adds suggestively while looking at me and widening her eyes.
“Mother!” Fallon shouts. “Stop it.”
I inwardly smile. I was already planning to propose to her when we’re there.
I’ve been scouting various locations for the right spot.
I want it to be special, not just for Fallon, but for me too.
My first proposal was done with a paternity test in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.
There wasn’t a single part of me that was happy that day. Nothing magical.
It will be so different this time around.
I can barely contain my excitement. It can’t come soon enough.
I want a million flowers in the middle of a picturesque, grape-covered vineyard.
I’ve already contacted a photographer to capture the moment so we can relive it for the rest of our lives.
Ring shopping is also on my to-do list. I want it to be perfect, just like Fallon.
I’m broken from my little fantasy by Doris not so innocently crooning, “Whaaat? You’re no spring chicken, sweetheart. You want more children, and I want more grandbabies.”
The words children and grandbabies hit just as the dry-as-fuck chicken enters my throat. I start choking on it. Joel shakes his head and mumbles, “You should have used the ketchup.”
Fallon wants more children? The thought had never occurred to me.