Chapter 17 #3
Wiping away the trails of tears, she did her best to put herself back together. “I haven’t been alone. Margo has been checking in on me. And you’ve been so helpful. You don’t even know.”
“I have an idea.”
“God.” She exhaled, blotting at her eyes, forcing the redness to retreat by sheer force of will. “This night has been a lot. Are you sure you want to add to it by meeting my family?”
He took one of her hands and gave a reassuring squeeze. “Now, more than ever, I want to meet your family.”
She stared, half expecting a snarky remark before he sprinted out the door, muttering that he’d dodged a bullet. But he just stood there. Like he really was excited to have dinner with her family. Like she hadn’t unloaded half a year’s worth of emotions onto him.
When he didn’t run away, something inside her switched. A long-ago broken piece slid into place. And for the first time, she wondered if this was what love felt like.
“There you are!”
Her father’s booming voice greeted them as they walked into the main house.
For once, the dining room table was set.
Her parents were usually content to eat in the living room, but apparently this Sunday was a special occasion.
At one time, the old farmer’s table had seated her father and his five siblings.
It catered to a rowdy group of Brody boys who’d grown up in Tenison.
It held scratches and scars from nights of spilled food, rough-housing kids, and frustrated homework sessions.
Even Lilian had left a few grooves in its dark wood from when she was a child.
The air smelled of lasagna. Her mouth watered instantly.
Since the cancer diagnosis, her dad had stepped into the role of family chef.
For months that meant their diet consisted of proteins.
Steak and chicken and brisket with only microwavable frozen vegetables for sides.
But he was making an effort to expand his culinary skills.
She prayed tonight’s adventurous meal would be a success.
Her mom was already seated at the table, her small frame looking even more dwarfed by the large table.
As far as days went, it looked like this was a good day.
There was color to her cheeks and an air of excitement as she fidgeted with her shawl.
“So, I finally get to meet the young man who has been revitalizing my bookstore.”
Hawk gave Lilian a sharp look. “She knows about me?”
Lilian laughed. “She’s been waiting to meet you since you brought me soup.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“Come closer,” her mother called out, “let me see those handsome features.”
“Hey now.” A low growl of warning came from the kitchen area where her father was taking the lasagna out of the oven.
“Don’t worry, honey. You know you’re my one and only. I just want to meet the mystery man.” As Hawk and Lilian stepped closer to the table, a smile split across her lips. “Oooh, good job, Lilian.”
“Mom.”
Hawk dutifully reached forward and extended his hand, introducing himself with a firm shake. “Hawk Carlisle.”
“Beatrice Brody. And you met my husband.”
Her father came over and set the last plate on the table. “We’ll have plenty to talk about. Now let’s dig in.”
“Oh, yes.” Her mom giggled. “We want to hear it all. How you two met. When you started dating.”
“Oh, we’re not—” Her protest was interrupted by Hawk, who didn’t hesitate in his reply.
“We met at the faire.”
Warning bells went off in her head. The faire! She couldn’t exactly tell her parents that she’d hated Hawk when they first met. Or that they weren’t officially dating yet. Or that he was technically her boss.
But Hawk didn’t seem concerned at all about navigating the conversation.
He graced the table with an easy smile and explained how Lilian had asked him for help with the Tenison shop.
It was a stark departure from the man who prowled the faire paths with a permanent scowl.
She was mesmerized by the shift in his demeanor.
This was the Hawk who had taken her to The Pretty Pages. The one who could watch The Lions’ Den with her while explaining the complex intricacies of business negotiations.
When he explained his role at the faire, that was where he kept the focus. Not on titles. No on being the manager. Not on being her boss. But on the way he worked with vendors, how he supported them, and how everyone played a part in making the event success.
“The shop looks great!” Beatrice remarked. “Everyone in town is talking about the revamp.”
“There’s still a lot of work that needs to be done,” Lilian added. “But Hawk really is the brains behind the changes.”
“But you’re the muscle,” her father remarked, eyeing Hawk from across the table. “You come up with the plans and have my daughter do all the work?”
“Dad,” Lilian hissed. She knew he was teasing, partially.
Hawk didn’t rise to the bait. “Lilian and I agreed that I would help her, but the changes have to be done by her. She wanted to be the one to ensure the store’s success, and I need to make sure business owners are dedicated. You two have raised an extremely hardworking and kind woman.”
Her mother beamed with approval, and her father scooped up a forkful of lasagna with a nod.
“And what do you do?” came Hawk’s polite follow up as he looked at her dad.
“I run the tractor repair shop here in Tenison.”
“I don’t know anything about that kind of business,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “I’d love to pick your brain about it.”
Her father’s eyes widened. A scoop of lasagna fell off his fork with a wet plop. “I… sure. We can talk about it.”
“After dinner,” Lilian pleaded. “Mom and I already know way more about tractors than I ever cared to learn.”
Something in her father caved completely after that. The second he learned that Hawk had not only graduated from K-State but was also invested in college sports, it was over. The two men talked at length about the current football season. It was a relief not to be the focus of the conversation.
When their plates were empty, her father took Hawk to the living room, where apparently a Sunday night game was on. The two men talked in low voices as they watched the flashing screen.
“He seems nice,” her mother observed, nursing a cup of tea while Lilian gathered the dishes.
“He is nice,” Lilian said. “Didn’t come off that way at first, but he’s been really great these last couple weeks.”
Her mother reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you found someone who supports you.”
Her throat tightened as she remembered how, an hour ago, Hawk had seemed to hold her together while she’d cried.
It felt so good to share her grief with someone and be reassured.
For weeks, his advice had given her that same comfort.
Letting her know that she was taking the right steps and supporting her the whole way.
She stared at the living room and let herself imagine if this could be more than a one-time thing. If Hawk might want to come over again. If he would start to carve a way into her home life the same way he had with her business. It was surprisingly easy to imagine that future.
“Me, too.”