18. Casper
There can’t be a better feeling than this, holding my girl’s hand and walking into my parents’ place to show her off to my favorite people.
She immediately seemed more comfortable once she changed, and, good God, the dress had been made for her. I could’ve watched her change the entire night, but she forced us out of the room after a few stolen kisses.
“I’m going to throw up,” she groans under her breath. “Are you sure about this?”
“Sure about dinner? Having you meet the family? Or us? Because I’m a hundred percent positive about all of them.” I brush the back of her hand and knuckles with my thumb as we walk up the stoop. “It’s going to be amazing, I promise.”
The front door opens before we reach it, a very eager Cambrie appearing in the frame. “Hi, guys!”
“Cam,” I greet her with a side hug, but I’m obviously not the object of her excitement. “This is my girlfriend and future wife, Mona.”
Cambrie’s eyes bulge, snapping back to me, then down to Mona’s left hand. “You proposed?”
Mona giggles. “No, he’s being dramatic. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s so nice to officially meet you too! I knew from the opening night that he was head over heels for you.”
Cambrie lunges, pulling Mona into a hug. She stiffens in my hand, taken aback by Cam’s forwardness, but gives her a polite squeeze before Cam steps back.
Mona smirks, squeezing my hand ever so slightly and looking up at me. “Oh, really? Was that the night I painted the unicorn and butterfly you asked for?”
I scoff, chuckling. “Yeah, that I asked for.”
“How did I miss seeing you like that? Did anyone get a picture?” Cam asks, and I glare at her.
“Let’s go inside.” I stride past Cam, Mona’s hand still in mine as I lead us in the house, hearing giggling from both girls behind me.
My mom and dad are likely in the dining room, already waiting for us. We kick our shoes off, and I undo the laces of Mona’s boots and help her out of them before taking her hand again.
I’m probably going to try to hold her hand when I go out on the ice too. Every day, all day, I need to touch her and never stop.
My mask is fun, and it gave me the opportunity to get to know Mona, to make her fall for me, but watching her eyes twinkle when she looks up into mine? Fuck, nothing compares.
“I hear movement!” my mom calls out, the sound echoing down the foyer.
Mona tugs my hand, and I lean down, giving her my ear.
“This is not a house. This place is bigger than The Schrader House.”
“It is not.” I chuckle. “It’s where I grew up.” I right myself, trying not to laugh at the shock she’s going through.
This will be her life soon enough. If she wants a house this big, it’s hers.
Granted, this place is a bit extravagant, but it’s home to me—in the nostalgic way at least. The only place I’ll call home now is wherever Mona is.
Her head is swiveling, her eyes taking in as much as she can as we pass under the grand staircase, heading to the dining room. But as expected, my mom greets us before our arrival, her smile lighting up her entire face.
“Hi, sweetie,” she murmurs, stealing a quick hug from me as my dad saunters up to her side. “And you must be Mona. It’s so great to meet you. I’m Caroline.”
I’ve seen a lot of variations of Mona thus far, but never deer in the headlights, which is what she looks like right now. Nervous. Unsure. Like she wants to run.
Given her background, I understand how odd and scary this can be.
Her family—if that’s what you can even call them—deserve to be in prison for how they treated her.
But I hope that in some way, probably over time, she’ll feel comfortable calling my family hers too.
I know it’ll never completely replace the holes hers left behind, but maybe it’ll ease the pain just a little.
“Yeah, I’m Mona. Thank you for having me for dinner.” Her voice is sweet and kind.
I can’t help but think of the Mona I’ve really gotten to know. The one who will flip me off, curse at me in the middle of a craft store—it’s hilarious.
For someone who’s struggled to use manners with me, she seems to be doing just fine with them.
My whole family is staring at her, and I have an inkling that it’s making Mona incredibly uncomfortable.
“So, dinner?”
My mom snaps into character, clapping her hands together and spinning on her heel, leading the way for the group. We follow behind her, Mona and I bringing up the caboose.
I lean down and whisper in her ear, “They’ll relax after a little while. They’re really excited to meet you.”
She nods sharply, and our eyes meet as I pull away, spotting a deep vulnerability in her gaze.
“They’re great.”
They are. But I also know they can be a lot, especially when they’re all wound up like this, like a dog getting a new toy. Not that Mona’s a toy … never mind.
We’re seated around the round table, my mom and dad to my left, Mona and then Cambrie to my right. Appetizers are served almost immediately—bacon-wrapped dates, and brie and fig crostini. After everyone gets a quick bite, the small talk follows.
She tells them where she’s from, where she went to school, and thankfully, they don’t pry deeper than what she’s willing to share. She’s honest though, not holding back about the no contact with her parents. Of course, my mom tells her that she is always welcome in this home.
When the appetizers are devoured and the plates are cleared, my mom leans back in her chair and asks, “So, how did the two of you meet?”
Mona scoffs with a laugh, the glass of wine she’s sipping on clearly loosening her restraint. I open my mouth to tell the story—at least the version that is family friendly—but she beats me to it.
“We met at Moore’s Crafts actually.”
I jump in, in case she hadn’t figured out who her crafting benefactor was. “I was such a gentleman and paid for her cart. But I was too nervous to get her number ... and then he appeared at The Schrader House.”
Her pupils dilate and cheeks redden. “It really was so sweet.” Sliding my hand over her thigh, I watch her in awe as she opens up to them about working at the house and about her in general. She leaves out a few select secrets about our relationship, but that’s probably for the best.
My parents and Cambrie are full-on swooning when she finishes, looking back and forth between us like they can’t believe this is real. Trust me, it wasn’t smooth sailing. There were a few hiccups, but we’re locked in, no escaping now.
Mona gradually relaxes more and more as the night rolls on, enough to join my family in making fun of me.
She’s right at home in that department. They’re all laughing, and the conversation shifts down a rabbit hole everyone wishes their parents would skip—the part where they spill embarrassing stories.
Mona eats it up, a lightness in her shoulders I’m not sure I’ve ever seen. But as much as she’s enjoying it, I can see the pain behind her smile. Likely because she’s comparing my upbringing to her own. I don’t blame her; comparison is a natural human response.
I wish more than anything that I could’ve given her my life. Even though she said she wouldn’t change a thing because we ended up where we were and who we were because of what we had gone through, I wish I could take the edge of agony from her gaze.
By the time dessert rolls around, I’m full, both my stomach from the food and my heart from the night. I can barely get two bites of the fresh strawberry cheesecake before I have to stop eating, worried I might have to unbutton my pants on the way home.
We stay and chat for another two hours, moving to the main sitting room as the night fades away with ease. Eventually, Mona starts yawning, and I decide to call it.
“I’d better get her home and myself. I’ve got a game tomorrow.”
“No!” Cambrie whines, physically pouting. “I mean, you can leave, but Mona can stay.”
I laugh. “You can see her again. And how nice. Thanks, Cam.”
She groans. “Yeah, yeah, just go and ruin the fun, Cassy.”
Mona giggles, her cheeks warming. She feels the love.
My mom and dad stand from the sofa.
My mom scolds us like we’re kids again, “Keep fighting, and you’ll both go into time-out.”
“See what you did.” I scoff. “Getting us in trouble in front of my girl.”
Cambrie flips me off as she hops up from the chair and walks over to Mona, pulling her in for a hug that Mona eagerly accepts. “Please call or text anytime. We need to get together, not just with my brother either.”
“I’d love that,” Mona murmurs as she pulls away.
I wrap my arm around Mona’s shoulders, flattening my hand on her collarbone and pulling her back flush against my chest. “Get your own friends. You can’t steal my girlfriend.”
“Watch me,” she snaps back.
Perfection, that’s how natural this entire night has felt, how seamlessly Mona fits in with my family. I had no doubts about that though. She was destined to be a Ridley.
“Oh, Mona, it was so great meeting you.” My mom pulls her from my embrace and into one of her own. “I’m sure we’ll see you soon. Will you be at the game tomorrow?”
Mona shakes her head as she rears back. “No, I have to work tomorrow. But I checked the schedule, and I’ll be at the next one.”
“You will?” The words fall from my lips in a shocked and enthusiastic whisper.
She peers up at me, relaxed shoulders and bright eyes. “I will.”
“You guys are seriously too cute.” Cambrie beams. “Cas, don’t fuck it up.”
“Cam,” my mom scolds her for cursing, as if we’re not all adults.
A classic Minnesotan goodbye drags on for the next ten or fifteen minutes, and then we say another wave of farewells at the door. Eventually, I manage to wrangle a slightly wine-drunk Mona into my car, and then I pull out of the gated driveway and community.
“That was the best night ever,” Mona sighs with the biggest smile as she melts into the seat, her pretty face illuminating up every few seconds from the streetlights as we drive.
“I’m glad you had fun,” I coo, reaching my hand over and settling it on her bare thigh.
She throws her arms up and out, a small squeal leaving her. Okay, maybe she’s more wine drunk than I realized.