Layla
Chapter Twenty-One
On Friday morning I stood at the mirror, looking at the marvels a padded bra could do for my navy wrap dress. Kellan was supposed to come shortly to pick me up.
“You’re beautiful,” Patty complimented, sincerity shining in her eyes.
With her help in blowing out my hair gently and then picking out something to wear, I was finally experiencing my first shred of confidence about meeting Kellan’s family. Thank God, my locks had cooperated and hadn’t started to fall out.
“Thank you. Though I don’t know what I’ll do without you there to do my makeup tomorrow.” She’d done a dynamite job today, giving my face more color than the pale reflection I’d come to know over the last few weeks.
“I showed you what to do. It’s all about the bronzer on the cheek bones. Although after your man sees you in that dress, he won’t notice a thing about your face.”
I giggled, loving the fact I got to surprise him with the form-fitting—yet very classy—dress tomorrow evening. It would be my first occasion back in heels since my surgery.
“What do you think of this to wear today?” I’d picked out dark-wash jeans and a loose-fitting blouse in red. I would cap off the look with matching red lipstick and black booties with a slight heel.
She turned to survey the clothing laid out on my bed. “I think you’ll look smoking hot.”
For the very first time, I wasn’t tempted to say, “You should’ve seen me before the cancer.” This was the new reality. And now that I was over the first self-doubt hurdle of losing my breasts, I was hoping to rock this new me.
“Thank you again. For everything.”
She gave me a knowing look and took my hand. “You’re welcome. Anytime, and I mean it. I’ll see you Monday, honey. Have an amazing weekend. You deserve it.”
She was right. I did deserve it. My energy was back.
My self-confidence was blooming. My emotions were in check.
And I couldn’t wait to spend a weekend where I didn’t have to be the girl who had cancer.
I could simply enjoy spending time with Kellan.
I tried not to think of the fact he saw his ex on a daily basis.
Nor did I dwell on the way he’d pulled back like he’d promised so that we were only seeing each other on weekends.
We were dating. It’s what I’d said I wanted.
Two hours after she left, there was a knock on my door. Opening it, I watched Kellan register shock that morphed into a sexy smile at finding me all dressed up. “You look incredible.”
His compliments were never lip service. I could see he meant every word. “Thank you.” I’d missed him. I pulled him to me, seizing his lips in a kiss. A kiss which started out innocently enough, but soon I was ready to wrap myself around him like he was a pole.
He finally pulled away. “Jesus, Layla. We may have to forget the wedding and not leave the hotel room.”
“You don’t know how much I’m tempted to test you on that.”
Outside by the curb, he opened the passenger side of his truck first, always the gentleman, before setting my bag in the back seat. He smacked another kiss on my lips before walking to his own side of the truck.
I felt as if I had my mojo back. Hopefully, this weekend would show that we could get back to the physical side of our relationship.
The four-hour drive south was uneventful. Normal. Normal was the new epitome of a perfect day for me. And it felt normal when he pulled into his childhood home and squeezed my hand. “Ready to meet the fam?”
“I am. Ready to meet the fam.” We both laughed at my Dr. Seuss rhyme.
As soon as we stepped through the door of Kellan’s childhood home, I could sense the love.
There were family photos on the walls and handmade quilts on the couches.
Or perhaps it was the great smell of dinner cooking that evoked the emotion.
But none of it helped my sudden onslaught of nerves.
I hadn’t met the parents of someone I was dating since high school.
And since I was freaking about the label of girlfriend, how would he introduce me?
As the crazy girl with cancer who was stupid enough not to want a commitment with their close-to-perfect son?
Kellan was always in tune with my emotions, even more than I was most days. He took my hand and squeezed as if he knew I was getting anxious.
The first person to come into the living room was an older version of Kellan with grayer hair. He stopped and grinned. “Son. You’re here. And this must be the lovely Layla. So glad you could come down and meet us.”
He moved toward us with his hand outstretched to take mine.
“So nice to meet you, too, Mr. McNeal.”
“Please call me Daniel.”
Just then a woman stepped through the hall into the living room. She was attractive and petite and visibly excited to see her son. She bounded—yes, bounded—over to us.
“Oooh, I’m so happy you’re both here.” She affectionately hugged her son first, then gently giving me a sort of pat-type hug, which I appreciated.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Layla. I’ve heard many amazing things about you from our son.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too, Mrs. McNeal.”
“Oh, please. It’s Wendy.”
“Where is Keira?” Kellan asked, referring to his sister.
“Should be here any minute. And don’t go commenting about her date for the wedding. She’s very sensitive about him cancelling on her.”
Kellan wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t get the scoop. Why’d he cancel?”
Wendy sighed. “Because he wasn’t ready for commitment.”
Guilt welled up. Hadn’t I said something similar to her son?
“They hadn’t been together long, but she would have liked a date for your cousin’s wedding. She’s not looking forward to going solo. Anyhow, come in. Dinner is almost ready. Can I get you something to drink, dear?” she questioned, turning to me.
“Water would be great, but do you need any help in the kitchen?”
She paused, making me think she’d simply tell me to take a seat. But she surprised me. “I have some appetizers I’d love some help putting together.”
Relief hit me. I wouldn’t be the visitor she relegated to the couch to take it easy because I had cancer. Normal. This felt nice.
Dinner was probably delicious. At least it smelled amazing and looked even better.
Kellan’s mother served carved honey ham, mashed potatoes with country gravy, green beans with shallots and bacon, along with fluffy rolls and butter.
Unfortunately, one of my side effects hadn’t gone away, despite being three weeks out.
My taste buds were dead to the world. Still, I ate without complaint, knowing every calorie would fortify my body.
Keira arrived shortly before we sat down.
I could tell by the affectionate way Kellan greeted her they were close.
She was a beautiful young girl. With long, curly brown hair, big blue eyes, and a fresh face which didn’t need any makeup, she was a natural beauty.
She was also quite outgoing and inquisitive.
“So, are you guys staying here at the house tonight?”
I didn’t wish to remind his parents we’d opted for a hotel or get into the whys.
Luckily, Kellan answered. “No, we’re staying at the Courtyard down the street.”
“The Courtyard is a nice hotel. Your father took me there for our last anniversary,” his mom chimed in. She either didn’t care about or didn’t see the please-tell-us-no-more expression on Kellan’s face.
Daniel nodded. “It was nice. Comfy beds, and the breakfast was great.”
Keira frowned. “Why would you go to a hotel room down the street when you have a house here?”
Kellan gave her a look that said “you can’t be that obtuse” while his mom answered with a shrug.
“Because, young lady, sometimes we enjoy spicing things up. Pretend to meet in the lobby bar and go upstairs for a one-night stand.”
I choked on my water. Not only was her comment unexpected, but it also described exactly how her son and I had first met.
Kellan was busy patting my back while his sister cursed.
“You okay, dear?”
Finally, able to breathe again, I said, “Yep, sorry.”
“My mom should be sorry for oversharing,” Keira protested.
But her mother only rolled her eyes. It was funny to see a parent make such a gesture. “Honey. First of all, you asked, and you should’ve known better. Secondly, you’re an adult. Your parents have sex. Get over it.”
Now Kellan was groaning. The entire exchange made me laugh and put me at ease.
“I don’t want to forking hear about it. Ever,” Keira grumbled.
I thought my hearing was off to think she’d said “forking.” But Kellan provided, “My sister has a potty mouth and is now fined one dollar for every swear word used inside the house. Thus, she’s become creative.”
“Yes, my mother is liberal enough to discuss anniversaries at hotels with role play but doesn’t let me use curse words in the house or at family functions.”
Now I was really laughing. “Does the same go for you?” I had to ask Kellan. He didn’t have a potty mouth, but he could let a few slip. Of course, I could, too.
“Let’s hope not because I have a feeling a few will fly at the wedding when you see Brandon,” Keira offered up.
Kellan’s mom gave her son a hard look. “There better not be. We agreed: no bringing up the past at the wedding.”
“Um, who’s Brandon?” I was curious.
Now everyone was quiet. Kellan finally spoke. “Brandon is my cousin, the one I went to college with. He’s the bride’s older brother.”
Now it made sense. The cousin who’d cheated with his ex. “Oh. Him.”
Keira nodded while her brother went silent, his jaw doing that weird thing. This was clearly a subject he didn’t want to discuss. Should make for an interesting wedding.