Parents

Chapter 2 Dinner Dates

We gave her parents a tour of our home and watched as they took it all in. We left them to get settled in the guest bedroom and headed down to prepare dinner. "Hugging your parents felt like hugging my own. It felt so good and then to be allowed to cry. That was priceless. I love them."

I hugged him at the bottom of the stairs. "I knew you would. They know how happy you make me and how well you treat me." I leaned in and kissed him softly. "I love you. They do too."

I smiled into her kiss, pulled her to me and cradled her gently against my body. I looked up the stairs and hoped the door to the guest room was closed. It was. I pulled her closer and kissed her as deeply as she would let me. "God. I need this." I smiled happily and pressed my forehead to hers. "You have no idea how happy you make me. I just can't explain it. I love you." I kissed her forehead and moved to go start dinner. "You ready to cook?"

A kiss like that would have usually led to other things, but we had dinner to fix and guests in the house. "You make me very happy. So happy." I took his hand and followed him into the kitchen. "What are we making?"

"Your favorite. Roasted Chicken, gravy, mashed potatoes, wheat rolls, steamed and glazed carrots and salad-- yuk, and a blackberry cobbler. Side by side, we attacked the kitchen and prepared the meal for our families. "My parents will be here soon," I said after checking the clock for the 15th time as I pulled the potatoes off the stove and strained them. "The cobbler will go in and bake while we are eating. Did we remember the ice cream, do we have enough plates and silverware. I'm so happy we have two ovens here. Oh, I think the carrots are almost done. Do you want to mash these? I set the ingredients in those ramekins there." Anxiety was kicking in. I stopped moving and looked at her wide-eyed, trying to breathe.

I stepped up to him and put my hands on his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. "Deep breath in, deep breath out. You do this better than anyone. Yes, we got the ice cream and yes we have enough plates and silverware." I gave him a light kiss. "You've got this." I took the ingredients for the potatoes and put them in the mixer to mash them.

That was exactly what I needed. "Thank you." I breathed and went about finishing up and basic cleanup while cooking stuff. The rolls were prepped and the last thing that needed to be done once the potatoes were mixed and in the microwave to be kept warm. I turned to find her mother and father sitting at the small bar watching us work and the doorbell rang. I looked at Lizette, alarmed and happy. "I'll get that." I washed and dried my hands and went to get the door.

I pulled the dishes out of the cupboard and went to set the table. My mom followed me and grabbed the silverware. I went and got the glasses and was returning to the dining room as Avi was bringing his parents in.

I waved at Lizette as she was walking to the dining room with the glasses for dinner in her hand. My mother took my other hand and my father patted me on the shoulder. I sighed and laughed. I think they were just as nervous as I was, but their touches immediately calmed me as they surrounded me with their love and protection. I introduced my parent to hers and was pleasantly surprised at the hugs they all shared. We all gathered around our dining room table with the two fathers sitting at the heads of the table. We said a prayer, which was custom in my parents home and passed the food around. "Did you cook, Avi," my mother asked softly, she already knew the answer or she thought she did.

"Lizzie and I both cooked. It's her favorite." I smiled at Lizzie and thought, 'let the questions begin.'

Everyone seemed to be getting along really well. "To be fair, I just did everything Avi told me to. He is a magician in the kitchen." My mom asked for the recipes and Avi promised to send them to her. The conversation was easy and pleasant. Avi's dad asked my parents how their travels were. They answered politely. Somewhere in the back of my head, I was afraid of what questions might come up.