Awkward Meet Normal

Chapter Nineteen

Annabelle

It was a disaster—a dumpster fire.

I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Or at least lay there until the coast was clear.

"Darling," his mother came in a couple of moments after the doorbell rang. She had a code as well, it seemed.

She was elegant, and both of them had brown hair, and both were dressed in high-fashion summer clothes. I looked down at my yoga pants and tank top and regretted changing before I came here.

I regretted coming at all. I was not prepared for this.

Dash's sister looked like him; she was gorgeous and appeared a couple of years younger than me.

I should have bolted when he said the word mother, but there wasn't enough time for a getaway.

Dash's mother pauses when she rounds the corner into the kitchen.

"Hello," her hand goes up to her chest as she stares back at me.

Dash tugs on my hand and makes me take a step forward.

"Hello, Mother," he said, "a call beforehand would have been nice." Yes, especially since I have a feeling if this had been twenty seconds later, I would have been in some sort of undress.

"Oh, don't be like that. Who do we have here?" She asked, looking at me.

"Annabelle, this is my mother, Patricia, and my sister Patrick."

His mother rolls her eyes, and the sister smiles at me.

"Her name is Patricia as well," his mother said     

"Mother loves it here when I call her Patrick."  Dash said sarcastically while he rolled his eyes.

I nod and smile. "I can understand. My name is Annabelle, and everyone calls me something different. Ann, Anna, Annie, A, even occasionally." I was rambling. "I'm rambling; it was nice to meet you. I should go." I check the time on my phone.

Dash's eyes shoot to mine, and I can tell he's saying, "don't you dare run again."

His mother was better at this game than me. "Nonsense. I suppose the overnight bag by the entrance was yours."

Shit. I swallow. Why did I have to pack the black purple-overnight bag? It had feminine charm.

"Mother," Dash warns.

Patrick, the sister, brushes by us. "Do you have any wine? Mothers judgment rolling off of her is giving me a headache."

"Oh, hush, Patricia." Patrick pauses and turns back to her mother.

"Mother, I really do hate it when you call me that."

I can tell this has been an ongoing feud their whole life.

The mother gives it up and looks at me again. "How long have you and my son been seeing each other?"

"I'm not," I start, and Dash jumps in.

"Mom, how about you help Pat, and I'll get supper going."

"Does that mean we are invited to stay?" She asked.

"Of course," Dash replied. After she had followed her daughter, Dash looked at me. "You doing okay?" He asked.

I nod. "Yes, why?"

"Because you look like you have seen a ghost, and your hand is shaking."

I looked down at my hands and then folded them over one another. I was trying to contain the shaking.