Chapter 42 Willa
WILLA
Ihad warned him. I had absolutely warned him. My family was…well, it was a lot and they were going to be ten times a lot since I’d given them the heads-up I was bringing a boyfriend to Sunday family dinner—and that it was serious between Eng and I.
Now I wondered if I’d overdone it, because Eng looked as if he were preparing to go into battle. Which was comical given that he was holding a pie in one enormous hand and a bottle of whisky in the other. I wouldn’t want to go into battle with a pie, but a bottle of whisky might be a useful weapon.
“Eng,” I said gently, squeezing his arm, “they’re going to love you. They’re going to be loud and obnoxious and give you all sorts of shit, but they’ll love you. Because I love you.”
I reached out for the door handle, trying to ignore the faces peeking out at us from behind curtains.
The door flung open as Michaela yanked it right out of my hands. “She’s here! And with the boyfriend, damn it.”
“Hah!” Leroy appeared by her side. “You owe me twenty. Michaela bet me that you’d break up with him between Friday and tonight,” he explained with a grin.
“Willa? Let me see this man of yours.” Dad squeezed between Leroy and Michaela and eyed Eng up and down. We were still standing outside the door, blocked from entering by my enthusiastic family.
“Dad, this is Eng. Eng, this is my father, my sister Michaela, and my brother Leroy.” The orc had made a list on his phone which he studied this weekend in an attempt to memorize my various siblings, their spouses, and their children.
I’d informed him it would be worse at Christmas with aunts, uncles, and cousins here as well.
Eng stiffened and straightened his shoulders. “Good evening, sir. I am happy to meet you.”
“Sir?” Dad barked out a laugh. “There’s no sir in this house. You can call me Mr. Filipkowski until you marry my daughter, then you can call me Dad.”
Eng extended the whisky. “This is for you, Mr. Filipkowski.”
My father swooned like he’d been presented with the Holy Grail. “Whisky? And my favorite brand? Okay, forget the Mr. Filipkowski, you can go ahead and call me Dad. Or Peter, if you prefer.”
“Dad, let them inside for goodness’ sake.” Charlene nudged my other two siblings aside. “Get in here you two. You’re letting all the heat out.”
I laughed at my sister parroting one of Dad’s stock phrases.
Charlene grabbed Eng’s sleeve, pulling him inside. “I’m Charlene. I take it Willa already introduced you to Leroy and Michaela and Dad. That’s Trey over there, and Terrance. Then that’s James, and Jamie, and Jacob, and Joshua…”
I squeezed through the doorway and shut the door as Charlene recited a litany of names that I guarantee Eng instantly forgot. He clutched the pie as if his life depended on it, and nodded, looking around with a dazed, somewhat terrified expression.
The house was bursting with people. The television blared a football game. Someone was singing off-key. Someone else was yelling about green beans. One of my nieces sprinted by wearing a cowboy hat.
“This is chaos,” Eng murmured.
“This is my family,” I giggled.
“It’s Enzo!” my grandfather shouted, struggling to rise from the sofa.
“Enzo?” I asked, because from his excited greeting, it was clear my grandfather knew Eng.
“That’s what he calls me,” Eng grinned, stepping forward to gently pat the elderly man on the shoulder. “Piotr! I’m sorry I have not been by to the pub for liquid breakfast or to play games with you and the others.”
“Because you’ve been busy with work and with winning my granddaughter’s heart.
” The old man’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Wait a minute. What happened to that girl you were dating before? The one where you screwed up and she never wanted to see you again. Because I don’t want my Willa to be some kind of rebound. ”
“The female I told you and the others about is Willa,” Eng hastily told him. “She has forgiven me for my screw up and has agreed to see me again.”
“Well in that case, welcome to the family.” Grandpa pounded Eng on the biceps. “When’s the wedding?”
“Holy crap, Willa. This is your hockey player? The goalie? Look at him. He’s built like a container ship.” Trey reached out a hand to shake Eng’s.
“Is that Willa? Did she bring her man?” Mom and Grandma emerged from the kitchen. “Oh Lord, is that him?”
Good grief. Football had been abandoned, my siblings and their spouses, and their children all crowding around us.
“Mom, Grandma, this is Eng. Eng this is my mother and grandmother.”
“Ooo, he’s a big one, isn’t he?” Grandma pushed her way through the crowd then stood and eyed Eng like he was a prized livestock animal. “Look at those shoulders. And those arms. I’ll bet he could carry a lot of groceries.”
“He could,” my mother mused.
“Mmmm.” Grandma reached out to poke at Eng’s arm. “Strong boy. Good for heavy lifting. Can he cook?”
“No, ma’am. I am very good at ordering food at restaurants.” Eng shifted awkwardly.
“Then you better get your credit card ready because you shouldn’t expect Willa to do all the cooking once you’re married,” Terrance commented.
I face-palmed. “Can we stop marrying me off for five minutes?”
Eng lifted the pie slightly. “I brought dessert.”
Mom reached out to take the pie from Eng. “Here. I’ll put this in the kitchen. Oh, it’s from Dangerously Delicious Pies! Caramel apple crumb—my favorite.”
Grandma patted Eng’s shoulder in a move that mirrored Grandpa’s earlier affection. “You’ll do. But if you don’t treat our Willa right, then we’ll have to kill you.”
Worried at my grandmother’s threat I caught Eng’s eye. He looked overwhelmed, but also oddly proud, like he’d passed an exam. And in a way, he had.
Once Mom and Grandma had gone back into the kitchen, the interrogation began.
“You’re the orc goalie?”
“Are you really a prince?”
“Do you bench press cars?”
“Are you gonna leave any of the pork roast for the rest of us?”
Thankfully Nana and Pops arrived, and the conversation shifted from Eng to their mini leaf-peep cruise, where Pops won an oyster eating contest, and Nana reenacted the Boston Tea Party by throwing a bag of Earl Gray over the side of the ship just outside the famed city.
Dinner was loud, chaotic, filled with overlapping conversations and at least three arguments about recipes. Eng and I drew the short straws and ended up at the kids’ table where he sat like a calm, green boulder as Olivia and Jamie climbed on him like he was a jungle gym.
“Guys! Get off Uncle Eng. And Olivia, eat your green beans,” I scolded.
“It’s okay.” Eng’s grin made my heart melt. “I love children. And I’ll eat Olivia’s green beans if she doesn’t want them.”
My family adored him. I adored him. And Eng looked happy. Comfortable. Overjoyed, even as Olivia scraped her green beans onto his plate.
After dinner I left Eng to play basketball outside with the kids and began helping with clean-up. I’d just put the leftover pork roast in the fridge when the door to the dining room swung shut.
Shut. Firmly shut. With intent. Slowly, I turned to see Mom, Michaela, Grandma, and Nana blocking the exit.
“Oh no,” I said. “Absolutely not. Whatever this is, the answer is no.”
Michaela pointed to a chair. “Sit.”
“I’m not a dog.”
“Well, I’m going to sit.” Grandma pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and plopped down. Nana and Mom did the same. It felt silly to be the only one besides Michaela standing, so I took the last remaining seat.
“We have questions,” said Michaela with the tone of someone about to read medical test results. “You brought this man to family dinner night.”
“He was invited.” I looked around the table. “I called Mom and asked if I could bring him and introduce him to you all.”
“This is the man with the leftovers, the one you were mad at and had broken up with, the one who left a leg of lamb on your doorstep.” Mom leaned forward.
“Willa, this seems rather fast. You’re dating him, then not dating him, and a week later you’re introducing him to the family.
Can you not see how we might be worried? ”
“He’s redeemed himself,” I insisted. “I love him. He loves me. This is serious.”
Nana gasped dramatically. “Are you secretly engaged? Have you set a date yet? Let me get the calendar out because we might need to cancel a cruise and I want to make sure we’re not past the deadline to get a refund.”
“You’re engaged?” Grandma clapped her hands. “Oh good. Now I won’t have to poison him.”
“Do you have a guest list yet? Gift ideas?” Michaela asked.
“We’re registered at OrcMart.” I said dryly. “The wedding will be held in his palace, so make sure you have your passports ready.”
Nana sucked in a breath. “Are you serious? Because Pops and I will schedule a few extra weeks to tour his kingdom.”
“Are you serious?” Mom leaned closer.
I squirmed. “We’re definitely headed in that direction, but haven’t formalized anything yet. Which is okay. He said he wants to marry me. I just…we just… It’s only been a few days since we got back together, and like you said, Mom, it’s a little fast to be sporting a ring and setting dates.”
They all fell silent. Finally Mom reached out and took my hand in her own, entwining her fingers with mine.
“Take your time, Willa. I know we all tease you about getting married and having children, but we just want you to be happy—whether that’s with Eng, or some other man, or remaining single. Just be happy. And know we love you.”
“And we’ll bury him if he hurts you,” Nana said.
“You couldn’t bury him,” I said. “He’s like seven feet tall.”
Grandma perked up. “Okay, so cremation—”
“No one is cremating Eng,” I laughed.
“Okay, okay.” Grandma winked at me. “We won’t kill him. But we will start planning your wedding.”
Oh Lord.
Michaela pulled out her phone. “I’m starting a group chat called Willa-Eng Wedding. Do orcs wear tuxedos, or is their formal attire more of a kilt-thing? Is he Methodist? Should we plan for vegetarian options at the dinner reception?”
I smiled, happily accepting my family’s teasing and pretending to co-op my wedding plans. They did love me, and I knew they’d be happy for me and Eng whenever we decided the time was right.