Chapter 31

Eliza

Just a few days later as Steve and I walk into my mother’s home, nerves wash over me, though they’re a different sort than I would have expected. This is the first time Mom is meeting Steve, and I just really want her to like him, not because I need her approval or because it’s part of any kind of plan, but just because.

Her apartment is dark. I look around, confused. “I spoke with her this afternoon. I know I didn’t get the time wrong.” I look in the kitchen, and there isn’t anything prepared, but Mom is more likely to have something delivered anyway.

“Mom?” I yell into her apartment.

I hear some rustling, and it takes a few minutes, but Mom finally comes out in a silk bathrobe. “Sorry, sweetheart. The afternoon got away from us.”

I roll my eyes, and I’m a little grossed out because I can absolutely tell that we interrupted Antonio and Mom’s afternoon delight. “Would you like us to come back or meet you somewhere later?”

She waves that away. “Nonsense. I’m sure, sometime, I’ll do the same to you.” Her eyes twinkle. She rushes over and pulls me into a hug. “Who is this handsome devil you’ve brought with you?”

She really is too much. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Steve McCormick.”

“You’re the one who stole my little girl’s heart. I’m so happy to meet you.” She surrounds Steve in a hug as well.

And yes, she’s only wearing a bathrobe.

“Steve, this is my mother, Nicolette.”

She ushers us into her living room, and Antonio joins us, wearing jeans and a disheveled T-shirt.

“Mom, feel free to go get dressed,” I say, more direction than suggestion.

“I don’t know how you ended up so puritanical. Your father and I—”

I hold up my hand as I interrupt her. “I don’t want to know about you and Dad. Please get dressed.”

I introduce Antonio and Steve. Antonio nods at Steve and once again picks up my hand to kiss my knuckles. It gives me shivers, and I can tell Steve is not happy.

Antonio flips on the television, and I leave him and Steve to discuss the nuances of soccer and football as I go in search of Mom. I find her wearing a maxi dress and brushing her hair in her bedroom.

“Have you already ordered dinner?” I ask.

“Not yet. I figured we could decide what we want together. What are you thinking?”

“Steve and I are pretty easy to please on that front.”

“How about Moroccan? Greek?”

“I’m sure either would be just fine.”

“Steve’s very handsome.”

I nod. “Agreed. He doesn’t have a hard time picking up women. ”

She looks at me with her brow raised.

“I’m just trying to keep my expectations under control.”

She stops brushing her hair. “I thought you were getting serious.”

“We are, but there’s a little voice in the back of my head that reminds me we started as a one-night stand. This isn’t anything I was expecting, so it’s still hard to wrap my mind around sometimes.”

“Some men are meant to be placeholders until the next one comes along. Only you can decide if Steve is the one who’s going to stick around.”

“Well, if he’s going to sleep with other women, that’s his decision not mine.”

“I see how he looks at you. Trust me. It’s up to you.”

We walk back out, and the guys have decided on paella from a Spanish restaurant not too far from here.

Mom sits so close to Antonio she’s practically on his lap. “That is perfect.”

Mom and Antonio are engrossed in one another, their eyes sparkling with joy. I look at Steve and roll my eyes. He puts his arm around me and kisses my temple.

We make small talk while we wait for dinner. “What kind of work do you do?” I ask Antonio.

“I am a sculptor. I saw your mother wandering the town I was visiting, and I wanted to create her in marble. I spent many hours drawing her, and that led to many hours of making love.”

“Wow. That’s really great,” I say, not sure of the appropriate response to that.

“I love a woman’s body—the roundness of her hips and the fullness of her breasts.” Antonio looks at me carefully. “I would love to sculpt you too.”

“Not a chance,” Steve says before I can respond.

Thankfully, the buzzer sounds.

“Steve, can you help me get the food downstairs?” I ask.

“I’d love to. ”

When we get in the elevator, Steve turns to me. “That guy is a little creepy.”

“He seems like he’s into my mom, and he makes her happy. That’s all that matters.”

Steve harrumphs.

When we return to Mom’s with the huge bag of food, the table is set, and Antonio is pouring wine into Mom’s glass as she sits at the table.

Antonio rushes over to pull out a chair for me, and Steve gives him a questioning look. “I’ve got this,” Steve assures him.

“So, how did you two meet?” Mom asks as we distribute the food.

“We met at a Tigers party,” Steve says. “Eliza was wearing this stunning red dress, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I didn’t want to spend any time with anyone else but her that night.”

I look at Steve with surprise. “I had no idea.”

“Of course he did. You’re a beautiful woman,” Antonio says. “Just like your mother.”

Mom reaches for his thigh, and I’m about ready to gag when Steve turns and looks at me with a silly grin. Once everyone is eating, the conversation flows easily.

Throughout the evening, Antonio keeps touching my mother, his gaze always lingering on hers for just a moment too long. I try to ignore them, but it’s a constant reminder of their age difference.

Mom flirts with Steve, and it should bother me, but it doesn’t. That’s just her way, and I know she’s happy that she’s found love with Antonio.

After dinner, when we stand to say our goodbyes, Mom pulls me aside. “Steve’s a real catch.”

I look over at him, again talking to Antonio about soccer, and I smile. “I think so too.”

I change my sweater for the third time.

“You look great in dark green. Why are you changing? What you wore to your mom’s this morning would be fine for tonight.”

“Because I wore that to dinner at Paisley and Davis’s house before. I can’t wear the same thing twice,” I explain as if he’s a small child.

Steve rolls his eyes. “The gallery opening is in less than an hour, and we need to leave to get there on time.”

I stop looking through my clothes. “Has something changed?”

“What do you mean?”

“We have a rideshare arriving at six thirty. It’ll drop us off at the Aquabus, which will shuttle us across False Creek. We’ll be there before the gallery even opens. The opening is invite only, so it’s not like they won’t let us in.”

“I don’t like being late.”

I step in close. “Dr. McCormick, this is a side of you I’ve never seen before. Why are you so worried?”

“I want the good scotch tonight.”

“Okay, I’ll be ready. I promise. Go downstairs and wrap up the bouquet. I’ll be right there.”

Steve leaves, and I turn back to the closet. I should have bought something new. If the gallery gets too crowded, I could get hot. I don’t want to get all shiny. I reach for a light green sweater set. It’s conservative, and if I get too hot, I can take the outer layer off. I run lip gloss over my lips, and as I start down the stairs, I hear Steve call, “The rideshare is here.”

I look at my watch. “It’s early, and I’m on time. ”

We get in the back of the Subaru wagon, and we’re off to the Aquabus. Granville Island is on the other side of False Creek, so rather than struggle with the traffic over a bridge and fight to get parking, we’re doing this. I love it.

Steve still seems nervous. I’ve never seen him like this before.

When we arrive at the Aquabus, Nadine and Michael are getting out of their own rideshare.

“Great minds think alike,” Michael announces. He wraps his arms around me. “If you get to the point that you want Nadine or me to distract him so you can get away, just let us know.”

I smile and look at Steve. “He was very stressed about arriving on time.”

Nadine links her arm with mine. “That’s because within the first half hour, everything Paisley has on display will be sold.”

I look at Steve. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

He turns a great shade of crimson and shrugs.

“I’m so glad you two are back together,” Nadine whispers. Then she freezes. “You are back together, aren’t you?”

I smile. “We are. For real this time.”

“You two belong together,” she says.

The trip across False Creek is less than ten minutes, and then we walk to the gallery. I adore Granville Island. It is an artists’ enclave, so besides some hipster restaurants, there are shops that sell all sorts of art. My favorite is the washed wool boutique. She has the most beautiful sweaters and coats. I also love the jewelry sellers.

Steve laces his fingers with mine as we walk.

“What are you looking for this evening?” I ask.

“I don’t know. Before long I won’t be able to afford her work, so the group of us have been buying whatever strikes our fancy, knowing it’s a great investment.”

When we arrive, there’s a line, and Tanya is already here with her new boyfriend, Beau Compton. We take our places behind them, and Beau seems to get along well with Steve and his friends as we wait for the gallery to open.

When the doors open, we’re checked in one couple at a time. When we get to the front, Steve gives the woman his name. She looks at the list. “I’m sorry. I don’t have you down.”

“What?” Steve says. “There must be some kind of mistake. McCormick—M-C-C-O-R-M-I-C-K.”

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. This is by invite only, and we’re at capacity.”

What could be happening? Steve and I step out of line.

Michael and Nadine step forward as Steve types frantically on his phone.

“Don’t worry about it. There’s a great brewery right around the corner,” I suggest.

“I have a Nadine Khalili and a plus one,” the woman announces into her walkie-talkie. She steps aside and lets them pass.

I think for a minute. “By chance do you have a reservation for Elizabeth or Eliza Rourke?”

Impatiently, she looks at her list. “Yes, I do have you, and a plus one.”

I smile and grab Steve by the hand. “Come on. You’re my guest tonight.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m going to kill Davis. I know that he did that on purpose.”

I stop just as we get inside. The only light in the room comes from small pendant lamps and lights on the artwork. It takes my breath away.

Steve points to a watercolor of the Lions Gate Bridge. “What do you think?”

“I love it.”

He walks over to the woman behind the desk. “I’d like the Lions Gate Bridge painting.”

He plops down his credit card, and we continue to look. As she’s getting the sale registered and paid for, two other people come up to ask about the painting. “I need to get the red dot on the card,” she murmurs.

Nadine walks up. “We got a piece for Michael’s parents for Christmas. After all they do for us, it’s the least we can do.”

Michael nods. “I like this one better than mine.”

Allison joins the line to buy a piece and gives me a hug. “I was hoping I’d see you tonight. You saved my bacon. Since you couldn’t go, I took Julia and Paisley with me to look at the MacLean Museum, and it was fantastic. With a generous donation, we’ll be the first event hosted there, and we’ll have the entire grounds to ourselves. Paisley did have to promise a piece for them to display when the museum opens though.”

“I’m so glad! I love the drawings I saw of those gardens. I can’t wait to see photos.”

“Well, you’ll be with us for the rehearsal dinner and wedding.”

“I will?”

“Steve is one of Henry’s groomsmen, so of course.”

I hug her again. “I can’t wait.”

I’m thrilled to be here. I truly enjoy Steve’s friends, and they’ve been so welcoming to me and supportive of our relationship.

After the gallery opening, the party moves upstairs to Paisley’s loft space. She’s invited only a small group of us to stay.

“Congratulations,” Nadine tells her. “I heard someone complain that they arrived thirty minutes after the event opened, and there was nothing left to buy.”

Paisley blushes. “I am the luckiest woman alive.”

“I agree,” Davis says. “You married me.”

That leads us down a rabbit hole of weddings, and already Steve’s friends want to know when we’re going to get engaged.

I finally hold up my hand. “We’ve just begun dating again.”

“We’re just happy for you,” Julia Martin says. “I saw your mother the other day, and she seemed in good spirits.”

“She’s returned from Italy with a man younger than me,” I tell her. “He seems to make her very happy.”

“I think that’s great,” Julia gushes. “What do they call it when the woman is older than the man?”

“She’s a cougar, I think?” Davis offers.

“I thought she was a MILF,” Julia says.

Henry spits his drink, spraying us. “I’m so sorry,” he says, coughing and cleaning us up.

“Mom, do you know what a MILF is?” Henry finally asks.

“Of course, I do. I watch television.”

I really like Julia.