I texted her back and said I’d be outside, and sure enough, minutes later, she showed up, parking right behind my Tesla.
When she emerged from her car, there was a certain elegant grace that defined her movement and her dress. Gone were the bruises and the swelling, although if one knew where to look, faint outlines of a few things could be seen. In their place was smooth skin, a beautiful tanned complexion, and a personality that could be fierce one second and gently loyal the next.
She had on a black dress that extended down from her shoulders to her knees, covering up most of her cleavage. She did well to make herself beautiful without looking seductive; it went without saying that I didn’t need Brett and Leo gawking at her breasts during dinner.
“Hello,” I said. “Welcome to the Ferrari Estate.”
“This place is…enormous,” she said.
And you know what?
I had never thought about it quite in such terms, but she was right. I thought I had a big place, but really, that was just in comparison to the rest of the Bay Area. This place…it was absolutely enormous.
“Well, it’s the place you’re having dinner tonight,” I said, pausing briefly to kiss her. “You feeling all right?”
“A little nervous, but nothing too crazy.”
So she’s very nervous.
“Well, I promise you in due time, you’ll feel right at ease. Plus, we have some of that Ferrari Wine that relaxed you so much ten days ago.”
She elbowed me gently in the ribs as I escorted her to the front door. I had to get my innuendos somewhere; I definitely wasn’t going to risk saying them around my siblings, who would pick up on them far too quickly.
The first person who saw us was Layla, and I watched for her immediate reaction. Much to my relief, it was one of excitement and curiosity, not judgment and glares.
“Izzy, this is my sister, Layla, the only sane Ferrari sibling.”
The two shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. They briefly discussed Ferrari wines while I took a step back, content to let Izzy do the talking.
I probably hadn’t given her enough credit. I’d talked myself up that I was going to be a great host and show her around, but that wasn’t giving her the agency she could assume. She did, after all, work in a marketing firm; it wasn’t like she was a shut-in artist who didn’t know how to communicate with the world.
Brett and Leo came in seconds later. Perhaps the biggest surprise was that both of them behaved the exact same way—respectful and without jokes. Brett, I would have figured, would have made some off-color joke, while Leo would have just waved from a couch or chair. But both of them engaged her and asked questions.
This, however, was the easy part, especially compared to—
“Get your butts in here; dinner’s ready!”
Meeting my grandfather and grandmother.
I held my breath as I led her into the dining room. I was determined to introduce Izzy before the meal started. But to my pleasant surprise, again, I didn’t need to worry about a thing—my grandfather was waiting.
“You must be Izzy,” he said. “Alf Ferrari. Welcome to my home.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said. “It’s a beautiful place.”
“My wife does all the beautification of it; I can’t keep up.”
And…
“Oh, stop, Alf. Hi there! I am Mary Ferrari.”
The words were a little, just a little, thick, like Grandma wanted to say something biting and scathing but had held her tongue for the sake of the moment. I tried to get a sense of if Izzy picked up on that, but I did not notice anything. It still irked me, but like all family introductions, I decided to just bite my tongue, let the good-natured conversation play out, and then talk about it with Izzy after.
The dinner itself could not have gone any better, though. No one mentioned kids or made smart-ass remarks about children. Layla and my grandfather especially engaged Izzy, wanting to know about her work at her firm, even using it as an opportunity to crack jokes about how I must have been the bottom of the barrel for their ideal speakers. For the most part, even though this dinner was to celebrate my new contract, I let it unofficially be a celebration of my new partner.
Which, come to think of it, we haven’t even had that conversation yet.
But, I mean, do we really need to?
So much had happened between us or to us that I couldn’t foresee anything that would somehow split us apart. Of course, nothing was guaranteed, but what external condition could keep us apart? And if she was here, she probably felt the same way.
“Well, that was delicious,” Grandpa said when the main course and even dessert had wrapped up about an hour later. “Izzy, this is the point when us old farts usually retire to the lounge and drink some wine.”
“Old farts?” Grandma said incredulously, but I knew she was kidding.
“You are more than welcome to join.”
“We’ll come,” I said, trying to take the pressure off of Izzy. “She loves the Ferrari Wine.”
“Oh good!” he said, sounding genuine. “Then, there’s no reason to wait. Let’s go.”
Izzy gave me a bemused look, and I recognized I’d probably been a little too zealous and eager to play the part of caring boyfriend. At least it was probably better than me being an ass of a boyfriend or something like that.
We got to the lounge, and Grandpa turned on the television. Grandma had one of the maids bring out glasses of wine, and we took our seats. My dad was on one side with my grandparents, Izzy and I were in the middle, and the siblings were off to the left. We all got
