AFTER
October was the worst month of my life, and the following four had been a significant improvement.
I’d been stuck in a hotel suite for a week, the secret service standing outside my door, waiting for me to show any signs of infection before I was cleared.
I had no contact with the outside world, not even permission to call my parents. They were sure I was dead.
My sweet mother asked how Elias was, if he had made it out with me, despite never having met him. Both she and my father repeatedly thanked him, but Elias couldn’t accept their thanks without letting them know how large of a part I played in saving him, too.
My own work was fine, and they kept their promise that my responsibility would be dedicating my time to the scientific community. The work had been fair so far, I worked my eight hours a day, clocked out, and went home, with no discussions of shipping me off. I wasn’t ready for that.
To top off the last four months, I had to learn social skills I should have learned a long time ago.
Not that I didn’t have a few boyfriends through college, but my studies really took precedence, even more so in graduate school.
Dating was hard and I had no idea how to do it.
Being someone’s girlfriend was weird, and I didn’t understand the nuances.
I didn’t know what I was supposed to wear, or how much makeup I should put on.
How many official dates did I need to go on with a guy before I could tell him I loved him?
I wasn’t sure how many dates was the appropriate number before I could introduce a man to my parents either, but it was happening.
My parents were meeting my boyfriend for the first time, and they’d flown to Virginia for the occasion.
My mother was ecstatic of course, she planned out an entire vacation itinerary for her and my father.
They’d never been to D.C., so they had to visit as many museums as possible in the day they spent there.
Staying in a hotel closer to me, they chose a few cities to see over the course of their visit.
My mom asked us to join them, but I’d been on a “date” to every place that she wanted to go, and I would rather just enjoy the time off, visiting with them in the evenings.
I was criminally early to dinner, of course, I didn’t have a late bone in my body. Butterflies fluttered around in my stomach, my nerves acting up again. The rain had nearly melted off my face and ruined my hair. Perched at the bar of a small pub, I was sweating through my dress.
“Two whiskeys. Neat, please,” I said to the bartender.
“Any preference on the whiskey?” she asked.
“Not really, something top-shelf?” I shrugged. “My boyfriend is coming too, he’s the picky one. I’m sure whatever you have will be fine, though.”
“You got it,” she said, and got to work, quickly getting the drinks to me.
I heard the front door swing open, but I was too scared to look, choosing to sip from the drink in my hand instead. I didn’t want to be disappointed.
Heavy footsteps moved across the wooden floor, creaking under the weight.
“Dr. Hayes,” a familiar voice crooned from behind me.
Whipping around in my stool, I nearly fell on my ass before throwing my arms around his neck.
“I missed you,” I said, giving him a quick kiss. We were in public after all, I had to control myself.
“I missed you, too, pretty girl.” He wiped at my bottom lip with his thumb. “Better be careful, you’re going to ruin your lipstick.”
“You’re right. No kissing,” I said, choosing to lay my head against his chest.
“I didn’t say that,” he said. “Uh, why are you wearing lipstick anyway? We all know what you look like.” He paused, rethinking the words coming from his mouth.
“Not that you don’t look nice. Because you do, by the way.
I’m sorry I didn’t start with that. You’re hot.
” He poked his finger into my arm before pulling it quickly away.
“Ouch.” He made a little sizzling noise.
I pulled away, only holding onto his hand. I sat down and pulled him to the barstool next to me.
“You’re laying it on a bit thick, tonight,” I chided, taking a sip of my drink. “That one is for you.”
“Thanks, babe,” he said, taking a drink. “That dress is really nice.”
“Oh you like it? My boyfriend bought it for me,” I laughed.
It was nothing special, and it wasn’t particularly expensive.
Black thick corduroy hung just past my knees, the only adornment a silver zipper on the bodice.
I wore a pair of clunky black Mary Janes for him, saving his neck from bending down so far to kiss me.
He was probably sore, either from work or the flight.
He raised his eyebrows. “I did?”
“Well, your credit card did.”
He rolled his eyes at me.
“I also just bought what I’m wearing underneath it,” I whispered. “I think you’ll like that even more.”
His eyes traveled down my body, trying to see through the clothes to peek at my lacy underthings. “Please don’t tease me right now, Cassie. I’m all pent up.”
“Elias, it’s only been a week.”
“I’m in pain,” he groaned.
The bartender tried to stay out of our conversation, but we were basically on top of her.
“Celebrating tonight?” She asked, making small talk.
Elias shook his head no, but I spoke up. “Well, his birthday is tomorrow, and my parents are flying in to visit.”
“Happy early birthday!” cheered the bartender.
Elias thanked the bartender with a smile, but scowled at me when she turned her back.
“I don’t care that you don’t want to. If you’re with me, we are celebrating your birthday,” I said, returning the glare.
He considered it. “Do these celebrations include taking off your dress?”
I punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Have you no shame? We are in public.”
“No, I don’t feel ashamed.” He turned his head to the bartender, speaking up. “I’m sorry, I’m being rude. Ma’am, what is your name?”
“Amy,” she answered.
“Now, Amy, I apologize for my behavior. It’s inappropriate. Also, a great choice of whiskey.” He toasted his glass to her.
Amy raised her hands in defense. “I have eyes. I don’t blame you.”
“Oh my god,” I said, putting my face in my hands. “This is embarrassing.” Recruiting the bartender to his side was too far.
“I could be worse, I’m sure,” he said, and I wasn’t sure if that was a threat or meant to be comforting. Probably both.
“How did you know that Amy chose the whiskey and not me?” I asked, offended.
“Cassie,” he side-eyed me. “Please.”
“I picked it, in a roundabout way.”
“So, you asked for something top-shelf, is that what you’re saying?” He smiled.
“Maybe. . .” I trailed off. “Are you nervous?” Elias wasn’t the type of guy to meet the parents. From my understanding, he wasn’t the type of guy who anyone could put up with long enough to bring them home. Meeting my parents might have even been a novel experience for him.
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “They already love me.”
“You’re definitely not wrong about that,” I concurred.
My mother was obsessed with him, always asking how he was doing.
Sometimes, he’d take the phone from me and just talk to my mother.
He might not admit it, but he loved talking to her.
She’d ramble on about a quilt she was going to make for us, and he’d smile the whole time, asking about her choice of fabric and her stitching techniques.
My dad was far more stoic, but it was clear he held Elias in high regard. How could he not? He gave his baby girl a gun and kept her safe, even after she ran right back into danger.
“When are they going to get here?” Elias asked.
“They had a hiccup with the rental car, but are on their way now. So any minute, really,” I answered.
“I could have carpooled with them from the airport, but I really wanted some time with you to myself,” he admitted.
“I don’t blame you,” I said. “My dad needs to do things his way, anyway. I offered to pick them up but he likes to have his own car so he doesn’t feel trapped.”
“You didn’t offer to pick me up,” he teased.
“You gave me like a three hour window of when you were going to land,” I argued. “I was already nervous enough about today, trying to look nice. The rain ruined my hair, and I had to fix my mascara in the bathroom when I got here.”
“I’m just messing with you, and you look beautiful, as usual.” He tapped the tip of my nose. “No stressing.”
I sighed.
“Which car did you bring?” He asked.
“The nice one,” I said.
“Good,” he smiled. “We’ll have to make sure they know it's mine. I don’t want your parents to think I’m only in it for your money.”
I laughed. “You make more money than I do.”
“Not that much,” he said, but it was that much. “Besides, they don’t know that.”
“My dad will figure it out when he sees your watch,” I said, looking at the piece on his wrist. He’d spent thousands on that thing.
“Is he a watch guy?” He asked, perking up.
“He wishes he had the money to be a watch guy, how about that?”
His hands found his hair, pushing it back. Pulling it back, really, I could almost see him tugging on it. “Should I have bought them something? I feel like I should have gotten them a gift,” Elias said.
“No,” I answered. “I think my dad would be offended.”
“Shit, maybe I should take him fishing.”
“In February?” I asked.
“Crappie. Walleye. There’s always fish to catch,” he argued.
I giggled, poking him in the ribs. “You’re such a liar. You’re definitely nervous.”
“A car just pulled up,” he breathed. I noticed a moment later as the headlights shined against the wall behind the bar. “Do I smell nice?” He asked. “Sniff me, I’ve been on a plane for hours.”
“You smell expensive. Are you trying to pick up my mother with that fancy cologne of yours?” I asked, teasing him to hopefully settle him down.
“Nope,” he said. “Just you.”