Part 6 (1/2)

Me: Awwww. Awwww.

Max: Did you just see a puppy? Did you just see a puppy?

Me: What? What?

Max: 'Awwww'? People say that when they see a puppy or a baby. I was hoping you would say 'I'll make it up to you'. 'Awwww'? People say that when they see a puppy or a baby. I was hoping you would say 'I'll make it up to you'.

Me: I'll make it up to you. I'll make it up to you.

Max: Abined with a little talk of Chris, and the random way my fears reared their ugly head, I hoped I wouldn't have one of those nightmares again while I slept in the same room with my sister.

TEN

The next morning, we all ate at a nice restaurant that served a great breakfast. My dad said it was too expensive a place to eat, and when I said I was buying, we spent the next ten minutes with him and my mom arguing that I ”can't” and then ”shouldn't have to” pay for all of us to eat when we could grab something quick at a fast-food place.

I won the debate, mostly because I just started walking into the place and Grace followed.

After breakfast my parents wanted to see where I worked. Gulp Gulp. I hadn't even thought about that. Later the night before, after Grace got off the phone with her husband, I told her the rest of what was going on with me: quitting the job, but soon working with Max. She promised not to say anything to my parents. Luckily, it was a Sat.u.r.day, so all we had to do was drive by the building and I pointed while saying, ”That's it. Just a regular building.”

Whew.

We spent the better part of the afternoon taking a tour of Universal Studios. It was something I hadn't done yet since coming to LA, so I didn't mind doing something so ”touristy.”

I got to push the stroller around for a while and at one point when my parents and Grace went to use the restrooms, I sat on a bench in the shade, alone with my baby niece. People-mostly women and girls-stopped by and cooed at her, telling me how beautiful she was. I just thanked them, not telling them she wasn't mine.

I'd never even thought about being a mother before. Certainly not like my own mother had, and not even like Grace had. But that was the first time I'd experienced anything resembling the desire to have a child. Definitely a strange feeling for me.

I got a text from Max: Let me treat your family to dinner. Let me treat your family to dinner.

Me: Well, h.e.l.lo to you to. Well, h.e.l.lo to you to.

Max: Hey there, dream girl. Hey there, dream girl.

I smiled at that, but it didn't last long. He wanted to take my family out for dinner?

Me: We talked about this. Not ready. We talked about this. Not ready.

Max: I don't have to be there. Let me make reservations at a nice place. You take them. I don't have to be there. Let me make reservations at a nice place. You take them.

Me: Where is this coming from? Where is this coming from?

Max: I just want to do something nice for you. And for them. I just want to do something nice for you. And for them.

I sighed and thought about what I'd write back. It was a very generous offer, and I wasn't surprised by it, considering that's just how Max was. But I really did think he was trying to angle his way into meeting them.

Me: Why do you want to meet them so bad? Why do you want to meet them so bad?

Max: Because they're your family. But I don't have to. Just let me set this up. Because they're your family. But I don't have to. Just let me set this up.

Me: Are you sure? Are you sure?

Max: Yes, but you have to promise me one thing. Yes, but you have to promise me one thing.

Me: Oh G.o.d. Does it involve handcuffs? Oh G.o.d. Does it involve handcuffs?

Max: I hadn't thought of that, but we can try. I hadn't thought of that, but we can try.

Me: Ha! Seriously. What is it? Ha! Seriously. What is it?

Max: You'll come with me to meet my mom. You'll come with me to meet my mom.

s.h.i.+t. He was really pus.h.i.+ng this. How often does a guy insist on meeting your family and you meeting his? He was clearly serious about us. It showed in his actions, but for some reason, not his words. Several times I had to hold myself back from blurting out the fact that I was in love with him but had thankfully spared myself the potential embarra.s.sment and, worse, abandonment. I was sure it would be too much for him, too soon.

But all this family meeting stuff... Maybe I just needed to let him go at his own pace. He had walls. High walls. Maybe even higher than mine. But those walls were coming down, and for the first time in a while I was giving him a peek over my barrier. He was letting me over his, too. Maybe I'd let him take the lead on the timing of all this.

I texted: We'll talk about it, but yes I'll meet her. We'll talk about it, but yes I'll meet her.

Max: Let me work on dinner and I'll get back to you. Let me work on dinner and I'll get back to you.

Me: OK. Thank you. That's so nice. OK. Thank you. That's so nice.

Max got us a reservation at Spago in Beverly Hills, a restaurant owned by the famed chef Wolfgang Puck.