26
“Absolutely not.” I can’t remember when I’ve been so emphatic with Jack. We’re in the garage apartment, which was my idea because I absolutely need to have sex with him to get my head back on straight. I need a fresh, successful sexual experience to wash the image of Wyatt in that T-shirt from my mind. Jack’s ruined the moment by telling me his parents want to visit tomorrow.
“Why not? They think it sounds like a nice place for the wedding, and they love the whole Skip Warren thing.”
“Skip Warren? Are there real people who care about Skip Warren?” I’m sitting on the nicely made bed while Jack carefully unbuttons his shirt like this is actually going to happen.
He stops halfway down. “I am one of those people. Plus my parents make three. Look, let them come for the day. We’ll see them for a walk around and dinner, that’s it.”
It’s too much. I put my head in my hands and try to think of something to say that will make Jack know how I feel. “It’s too much.”
“Wherever we get married, we’re going to have all of our family together. This is a mini version of it. And if they like it, maybe we will get married out here. Maybe everyone will be happy.”
Jack’s mom, Donna, is an office manager. She’s precise like Jack, and I have to guess that the books where she works are balanced and dust free. I love precise people; I’m marrying one, after all. I like the way she sends me a birthday card that arrives exactly the day before my birthday each year. I bet she renews her driver’s license online before it expires. Like Jack, she has a standing hair appointment to keep the edges razor sharp. People like this don’t blow up their families. People like this have long-term-care insurance and living wills.
My parents have met Jack’s twice in four years. Both times we met for dinner in the city, neutral territory. Jack’s dad, Glen, won my dad over with questions about a New York Times article he’d read about Current. Donna won my mom over by saying that I’m the daughter she’s always dreamed of. They are truly lovely people.
“Okay, fine,” I say.
“Good,” Jack says, pulling down the covers for me. “Because they’ll be here in the morning.”
I’m thrown by this, both the fact that they’re coming and the fact that it was a done deal before I even knew about it. I’m thrown by the prospect of Donna walking into my mother’s kitchen. But I look up at Jack, who is opening himself up to Oak Shore and my family, and I start to undress.