Part 27 (1/2)

He laughed again. ”I must have picked that up somewhere.”

”Apparently, my proclivity for a.s.signing nicknames is contagious.”

He put a hand on my head. ”Apparently it is.”

Suddenly I was starving. Everything on the buffet looks delicious. Croissants, ham, turkey, steak, mashed potatoes, scrambled eggs, French toast. I couldn't decide what to eat, so I served myself a bit of everything, and then made my way back to the table. When I sat down, I noticed that I had more food than Jake did. There was literally no room for daylight anywhere on my plate.

”Oh my G.o.d, do I look like a pig?” I whispered to him.

He looked at my plate and laughed. ”Hungry much?”

”Oh my G.o.d, I totally look like a pig,” I whispered again. ”What should I do with all this food?”

”How about eating it?”

I tilted my head to the side. ”Thanks for that, you're really helpful. Have I ever told you that?”

Still whispering, he laughed and pushed a strand of loose hair out of my face. ”You look beautiful today. Have I told you that?”

I laughed too. ”d.a.m.n you. You're impossible to get mad at.”

We settled into brunch and were soon engaged in light and funny conversation. I was impressed by how witty everyone was, especially Brett. Twice he said something so out of left field that I nearly spat out my French toast laughing.

Just when I was finally feeling comfortable, Jake's mother took a sip of her orange juice and gave me a polite smile.

”So, Waverly, tell us a little more about this television job of yours. I understand the show is quite popular.”

I broke out in a cold sweat and gave her a smile of my own, albeit a nervous one. ”Oh, um, well, it's a daytime talk show called Love, Wendy. Wendy Davenport, the host, interviews a lot of interesting people, um, you know, celebrities promoting their movies, authors promoting their books, that sort of thing.” I cleared my throat and reached for my water gla.s.s.

”It's a fun show, Ava” Michele said. ”I watch it all the time.”

I stole a glance at Michele. I wish I were as composed as you are around this woman.

I swallowed and looked back at Jake's mom. ”So, um, I do a semi-regular feature for the show called Honey on Your Mind. It's based on an advice column I used to write for the San Francisco Sun.

”Advice?” She ran her fingers over her pearl necklace. ”What kind of advice?”

I nodded and hoped no one had noticed the sweat mustache I was sporting. ”The column was mostly dating advice, but, um, the TV show is a little different. It's sort of expanded to a lot of different things.” Good G.o.d, I sound lame right now.

”She does a lot of man-on-the-street interviews,” Jake said. ”You know, taking the pulse of the city, that sort of thing. They're really funny.”

I looked at him, so grateful that he spoke up. ”You really think they're funny?”

He put his hand on my head. ”Come on, you know I do.”

”I loved the one where you asked people if they were more annoyed by, let me see if I can remember your exact words.” Michele used air quotes. ”*Jacka.s.ses who yap on their cell phones in restaurants or people who immediately post results of sporting events on Facebook.' I think that was my favorite one.”

I blushed. ”I remember that one. I definitely got a little carried away that day. I hope I didn't come across as too mean.”

”Oh G.o.d no, it was fantastic. People drive me nuts all the time doing stuff like that, so it was great to see someone speak up in an effort to stop the madness,” she said.

I smiled. ”Thanks.”

”I liked the one where you stopped people and asked them to tell a joke on the spot,” Natalie said. ”Those people were terrible!”

Jake looked at me. ”I didn't see that episode. Is that where you get your material?”

”Hey now.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

”Waverly likes to tell jokes,” Jake said to the table. ”Although I'd use the term *jokes' lightly, so as not to offend the professionals.”

I put my hand on his arm. ”Be nice. If not, I may have to tell you my newest one.”

”Oh no,” he said.

Brett rubbed his hands together. ”Lay it on us.”

Jake held his palms up. ”Don't say I didn't warn you. I take no responsibility for this.”

The oldest Mr. McIntyre took a bite of his scrambled eggs. ”I love jokes. Let's hear what you've got, young lady.”

I quickly scanned the table, making eye contact with nearly everyone, and I was surprised to realize that instead of feeling freaked out, I felt...comfortable. As an only child whose one serious romantic relations.h.i.+p had been with another only child, I'd never attended such a big family gathering.

This is kind of nice.

I smiled and nodded. ”OK, sure.” I took a breath and paused for just a moment.

”What do you call a cow with only two legs?”

They all looked at me.

I tilted my body to one side. ”Lean beef.”

Everyone, or more accurately, everyone but Jake's mom, chuckled.

”What do you call a cow with no legs?” I said.

They all kept looking at me.

I hesitated before speaking again.

”Ground beef.”

This time everyone genuinely laughed. Even Jake's mom, who was quietly folding and refolding her napkin on the table, smiled.

”That's pretty good,” Michele said.

Jake's dad held up his plate. ”I've got a cow with no legs right here next to my eggs.”

I turned to Jake and playfully pushed his shoulder. ”See? I'm not that bad.”