SHARI HELD HER glass of red wine and stood in the corner of the living room, taking it all in. The house was lovely, a split ranch decorated in warm earth tones, welcoming and comfortable. She knew that Brenda and Gary Sonntag had lived in Oceanside for almost forty years, raising their three children there—Evan had told her that, along with some other things. His older brother, Mitchell, was married to Leslie, and they had two girls and a boy, all under nine years old. His older sister, Alison, had married her college sweetheart, and they had twin boys who were already in their early teens. The family was a close-knit group, Shari could see that easily. They talked, laughed, and bantered, filling the house with vibrant sound and warmth. The smells floating from the kitchen were heavenly, and Shari couldn’t wait to taste what hinted to be a delicious meal.
She’d offered her help in the kitchen, but Evan’s mother had refused to let her, insisting she was a guest. Then Evan’s father had poured her a glass of merlot and asked a few innocent questions about work, her family, did she like where she lived, those kinds of things. Evan had his hands full playing Xbox with his nephews in the living room, but kept glancing her way and tossing her a smile or a wink.
Evan. She was head over in heels in love with him, but had been careful not to let him know just how much. Nothing drove men away faster than a clingy woman. She’d seen it in her line of work one too many times. So, even though she considered herself to be strong and had never been shy with showing her affection, something in her held back at times with him, and she knew it. Because . . . he was too important to her. Because he mattered, their relationship mattered, and she didn’t want to open herself up one hundred percent in case it went wrong, which she knew would leave her devastated.
She loved him more than she’d loved any other man. Though they hadn’t really discussed a future together, taking those steps, she could easily envision a future with him. It was almost too much to take, so she swallowed it. Until she was sure he wanted the same things, and sure it would work out. Maybe that was wrong, holding back just how much she loved him. But for the past few months, it’d felt like the only way to survive the astounding power of her feelings for him. It overwhelmed her sometimes, how much she loved having him in her life.
But when he’d asked her to come to his family’s annual Chanukah party—where she’d meet everyone who mattered to him most—she’d been delightfully surprised, and hope had sparked. Maybe it was a way of showing her what she meant to him, and showing his family, too. Maybe it meant he was ready to commit to something more serious. Or maybe it meant nothing and she was reading into it. She’d tried to get some info out of him on the train, but of course once he started kissing her, her brain melted and she lost herself in the feel of his mouth and his hands and gone all gooey. No one had ever affected her the way Evan did, physically or emotionally.
Shari slipped into the bathroom at the end of the hall. When she came out, Evan was standing there waiting for her. He pulled her into his embrace and dropped a sweet kiss on her lips, his arms banding around her waist. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself.” With a smile, her head tipped back as he trailed a line of kisses along her jaw, then down her neck. “What’s this for?”
“Missed you,” he murmured into her skin. His head lifted. “Also, you’ve been summoned.”
Shari blinked. “Excuse me?”
“My Bubby’s here. Got here with my aunt and uncle while you were in the bathroom.” Evan quirked a grin. “She wants to meet you.”
Shari’s stomach rolled. “Oh. Okay. Um . . .”
“She doesn’t bite,” Evan teased.
“That’s good to know.”
“C’mon.” Evan took her by the hand and led her back down the hall. The noise grew louder as they approached. She took a deep breath, squeezed his fingers with hers, and set down her wineglass on the dining room table as they passed it. When they entered the living room, Mitch had taken over gaming with the boys, and a sweet-looking old woman sat in the corner armchair, where she could survey the whole scene.
“Bubela!” Evan cried, as if he were the grandparent. “You look fabulous!”
“Yeah, I don’t look a day over a hundred, right?” she quipped.
“You’re a goddess.” He let go of Shari’s hand to crouch down and hug his grandmother. Shari hadn’t known what to expect, but Rose Sonntag looked fairly spry for ninety-one. Thin and bony, with soft wrinkly skin and her silver hair cropped short, her dark eyes were clear and her smile and voice were bright as she hugged Evan back.
She gripped his face between her hands and rubbed his scruffy jaw. “What is this?” she asked. “You need to shave. You look like a rabbi.”
Shari pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh. She loved Evan’s dark scruff, found it sexy as hell. Apparently, his grandmother disagreed, and it was adorable.
“Bubby, it’s cold outside,” Evan said, seriously charming as he continued to hold her hand and crouch at her feet. “It’s winter now. I need it to help keep me warm.”
“You grew it to impress your girlfriend, I’ll bet,” Rose said with a mischievous smirk. “All the young men with their beards nowadays. You’re hiding that handsome face. So? Where is she?”
Evan straightened and held his hand out to Shari. Suddenly overcome with uncharacteristic shyness, she stepped forward and slipped her hand into his. “Bubby, this is Shari Cohen. Shari, my grandmother, Rose.”
“It’s such a pleasure to meet you.” Shari smiled, reaching out to shake the old woman’s hand.
Rose smiled back, taking Shari’s hand between both of hers. Rose’s skin was cool and soft as velvet. She peered up at Shari and said, “Nice to meet you. Shari? Or is it Sherri?”
“Like Sharon, but with an i at the end,” Shari said. “People have gotten it wrong my whole life.”
“I like it,” Rose said. Her dark eyes raked over her from head to toe, and Shari couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so openly scrutinized. “You’re a beautiful girl.”
“Thank you,” Shari said demurely, flattered and a touch self-conscious. She saw Evan watching their exchange as he stood beside her, intent and curious. She felt like she’d been summoned to meet the queen or something.
“You’re so fair,” Rose said, still looking her over. “Where are your people from?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your people. Your family, ancestors, whatever.”
“Oh! Poland and Germany,” Shari said.
“I thought so.” Rose gestured to her grandson. “We’re Russian, the Sonntags. Evan’s Russian and Romanian, with a little bit of Hungarian mixed in there. Between you and him, you’ve got half of Eastern Europe covered.” She raised a hand to her short hair. “This silver was black as night when I was younger.”
Shari just smiled. Evan’s dark good looks had made her swoon from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. Her fingers often found their way into his thick wavy hair, such a dark brown it was almost black. His full sensual lips were wonderful to kiss, beat only by when they curved into a beautiful smile. He was five-foot-ten, which felt tall compared to her five-foot-three, and his lean, solid body appealed to her more than she cared to admit. But it was his warm brown eyes that she loved the most. His steady, intense gaze made her feel adored and special when it was fixed on her . . . like it was now. She lifted a brow at him, and he winked in response. Something in her relaxed; apparently she was passing the test so far, if he was at ease.
“Sit, both of you,” Rose commanded gently, gesturing to the nearby love seat. “Talk to me. You met at work?”
“We met through work,” Evan said as he sat next to Shari. “Company picnic.”
“We work for the same firm,” Shari chimed in, “but different departments.”
“She’s in Family Law also, Bubby,” Evan said, taking Shari’s hand in his. “But she’s Family Court, an advocate for women and children.”
Shari was surprised he hadn’t let her speak for herself on that, but warmed to the note of pride in his voice and let it go.
“Admirable work,” Rose said, nodding in slow approval. Her steady, focused stare reminded Shari of Evan. No doubt about it: her hands had a bit of a tremor, her skin so paper-thin you could see the blue veins beneath, and her soft wrinkled face was kind, but Rose was still as sharp as a tack. Shari liked her immediately.
She went on to answer all of Rose’s questions. “I grew up in Philadelphia. Yes, my parents are still married, and I have one older sister. Yes, she’s married, too, and she has a little girl . . . Tufts for undergrad, Columbia Law School . . . worked as a public advocate before switching to the private sector a year ago . . . I share an apartment in Fort Greene with a roommate, my friend Beth . . . no, it’s had a renaissance, it’s not a bad area of Brooklyn, it’s nice now . . .”
But Shari couldn’t help but gape at the old woman with the last question in her amiable but assertive interrogation. “Excuse me?”
“Do you want to get married?” Rose repeated. “Have kids, have a family?”
Shari felt her face heat, and couldn’t look at her boyfriend sitting right next to her. Awkward! She recovered quickly. “Um . . . yes, of course I do. Eventually.”
“How old are you?” Rose asked without missing a beat.
“Thirty-one,” Shari answered. “I’ll be thirty-two in February.”
“Mm-hmm,” was all Rose said, but it was loaded with a million unspoken words that Shari had heard over and over from the day she’d turned twenty-nine. Time’s ticking away, better find a man, don’t you want to get married, if you want to have kids you better not wait too long. . .
“My career is important to me,” Shari said. “But I’m sure one day I’ll find a way to balance both.”
“You’re a smart, beautiful girl,” Rose said. “I’m sure you will.”
“Dinner’s ready!” Evan’s mother’s voice rang out through the house. “Come to the table, everyone!”
Grateful for the timely interruption, Shari got to her feet. Evan had already risen and was gently helping his grandmother up from her chair. Shari loved watching how he doted on her, how sweet he was with her. In their time together, she often saw his quick, sharp wit, his strength, his self-assurance that on occasion bordered on cocky—all of which had made him only more appealing to her. But this side of him, Evan being the tender, attentive, and loving grandson to this feisty older lady . . . Shari fell in love with him a little more, a little deeper. God help her, she loved him so much.