CHAPTER SIX

Liam

 

I don’t know why I enjoyed making her squirm so much. I wasn’t intentionally teasing her, the situations just kept presenting themselves. In my defense, she was a very easy target.

We ate together, a salad prepared using whatever leftover ingredients she had in the fridge. She was amazed at the results.

“I would’ve thrown half this stuff away,” she said between bites.

“Sacrilege,” I said, pushing another forkful into my mouth.

To test the waters, I reached over and tousled her hair. She smiled and blushed, but didn’t stiffen. More progress.

We had a little time until her parents were due to arrive, and she was clearly nervous, so I suggested we watch Netflix to get her mind off things. We sat down to choose something and had our first argument.

Turns out she likes coming-of-age shit and has no interest in Game of Thrones or Dexter. I didn’t see why I should have to compromise, given the favour I was doing her, but given how anxious she was, I wisely decided this wasn’t the time to argue. She put on some sappy crap and I pulled out my phone.

“Really?” she said. “That’s kind of rude.”

I rolled my eyes and tucked my phone away, giving my full attention to the teenage girl suffering from cancer and the handsome boy who takes her away to meet her idol. Who turned out to be a real shmuck, in my opinion. The idol, not the handsome boy. He was kind of cool.

Before I knew what was happening, the movie took an unexpected turn and when the doorbell rang, I was actually disappointed not to see how it ended. Maggie jumped up off the couch and smoothed down her shirt.

“You look fine,” I said, rising to join her.

She put out her hand, indicating I should stay put, and went to get the door. From my place in the living room, I could hear the loud greetings and passive-aggressive comments about Maggie’s hair and weight. I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. I did not like what I was hearing. I was suddenly glad I was there to help her out, no matter who she was.

The voices got louder as they approached, and my first thought when the three of them walked into the room was how much she looked like her parents. Had Justin been adopted? Neither parent had Maggie’s red hair, but they all had the same look to them. In place of Maggie’s lightly-freckled skin, they both had clear complexions, but her father had the same chin, and she and her mother possessed identical sculpted cheekbones and shared those bright green eyes.

“Mom, Dad, this is Liam, my boyfriend.”

I stepped forward and put out my hand to greet them. They each shook in turn, neither of them bothering to hide their surprise at my appearance.

“Liam, it’s wonderful to meet you. Maggie tells us you’re a chef?” her mother said, a note of disbelief in her voice.

“That’s right, Mrs. Grant. At Cagney’s. I made reservations for the four of you tomorrow night. Justin will be driving in to join you.”

Maggie’s father’s face lit up at the mention of his son’s name.

“That’s great news,” he said. “I haven’t seen the boy since last Christmas. I wanted to stop there first, but Sophia insisted we come see Maggie first.”

Mrs. Grant elbowed her husband in the side and he shut up, throwing me a knowing glance. I stifled a laugh and turned to Maggie, who was just standing there, dumbstruck.

“Em, why don’t you give your folks a tour of the house? I’ll put some coffee on,” I offered.

She looked over at me, then at her parents, and then seeming to remember what was going on, she smiled and took her mother’s hand.

“Come. I’ll show you the guest room.”

 

*

We spent the afternoon catching up with Maggie’s parents. Being Monday, the restaurant was closed and I had a day off. They took their time looking through the cottage, checking her pantries and shit. If it had been my folks, I’d have gone apeshit at a certain point, but Maggie took it all in stride. I guess it was what she knew.

They had a bunch of questions for me, and I did my best to answer as honestly as I could. We’d obviously built a backstory that we’d both memorized, so those questions came easy. But at a certain point, Mr. Grant turned to me and said, “So what is it exactly you see in my daughter?”

“Excuse me?” I asked, certain I’d misheard him.

“Well, you’re from two very different backgrounds and to be honest, I can’t even imagine how you met,” he said.

“It’s like we told you, Dad. We were set up,” Maggie interjected.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Well, anyway, I’m still curious.”

I glanced over at Maggie and saw her panicked expression. Ms. Organized was freaking out that we didn’t have a plan in place for this line of questioning.

“Well, for starters, she’s super organized. Likes everything in its place,” I started. Maggie glared at me, but I continued. “She’s got it together. That’s good. And it’s funny how worried she gets when things don’t go according to plan.”

“That’s why you fell in love with her?” Mrs. Grant asked, dubious.

“Well, she’s pretty cute. Look at those freckles. They kill me. And she’s smart as hell. We do kind of hate each other’s taste in television, but that’s okay.”

Mr. Grant laughed and I took that as a good sign. I looked over at Maggie—she was still looking pretty nervous—but I thought I’d done okay. Mr. Grant turned to his daughter.

“What about you? What do you see in him?”

Maggie turned to me and looked me up and down.

“Well, he’s brutally honest, isn’t he?”