I throw a glance at the clock before I walk down the hall to my room. I can be dressed and get my room straightened up in plenty of time. I’m pretty sure my band t-shirts are out of the question, so I move to the back of my closet where all of my dressy—rarely worn— clothes are. My mom has been pushing me to wear dresses for years, so she’s always buying them when she sees one I might like.
I slide hanger after hanger down the rod, snarling at each one. Yeah, this dress thing isn’t going to happen . . . oh wait, this one isn’t too bad. It’s a simple summery dress with thin straps at the shoulders. Its delicate pattern of pale blue flowers is offset by the black leather belt at the waist along with the leather piping around the bottom, making it feminine but a little edgy. After slipping it on, I shove my feet into a pair of black flats and check myself out in the mirror. God, I look weird. Good, but weird. Wearing dresses to a formal event is one thing, but wearing a dress for no reason is another. It does fit well, though, and it also shows off my curves better than a t-shirt does.
I sigh. Fine. I’m wearing it.
I run a brush through my hair, spritz on a little perfume, and put on another coat of mascara. I’ve never been one to wear a lot of makeup, so I know my mom will know something is up for sure if she sees me in a dress and full makeup. I do think I need a little jewelry, though, so I dig through my little box, immediately coming across the onyx earrings and necklace that Wes got for me.
I put them on and smile. He’ll really like this. I like this.
I’m just finishing straightening my room when I hear the door open. After taking one last look in the mirror, knowing how much my mom is going to freak when she sees this, I head toward the sound of rustling takeout bags.
“Hey, baby, I picked up lasagna and salad. Is that okaaaa . . . whoa. You’re wearing a dress.”
I shrug. “Yeah, I decided to start acclimating myself to dresses and slacks since I only have a year left of wearing yoga pants and jeans to classes.” Hmm, good save. And probably not a bad idea.
Mom pulls a bag of rolls out and drops them onto the counter, staring at me in that sickening, motherly way. “My baby girl is growing up. Next thing you know, you’ll be bringing a man over here, saying you’re in loooove.”
I immediately start choking on absolutely nothing, which gets me a strange look of concern from my mom.
“I know. After college. Relax . . . I’m not naming my grandchildren. Yet.”
Oh God. I’m going to throw up now. Knowing that Wes will be here soon is making me nauseated, and my mom is only making it worse.
“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure of coming home to find the two most gorgeous women in the world right in my kitchen?” Dad strolls into the kitchen from the garage, immediately kissing my mom on the cheek. “And you made my favorite lasagna, too.”
Mom screws up her face, looking at him like he’s totally lost it. “I didn’t make it. This is from Venecetti’s.”
“I know.” Dad winks at me. “It’s as close to cooking as you usually get, so I’m giving you credit for making the trip to pick it up.”
She slaps him with a dishtowel before he circles around the island to hug me. “You look nice, Callie Lily. What’s the occasion?”
I haven’t heard that nickname in a while, but I love it when he calls me that. It reminds me of being a little girl. His little girl. “Oh, you know . . . just being a girl for a change.”
“Well, as much as it pains me to say it, you’re not just a girl anymore.”
I just almost think about blushing, but the doorbell ringing halts every thought, every movement. This is it. I’m about to introduce my parents to Wes, and I’m scared out of my ever-loving mind. I just don’t know how they’ll react.
“Callie, what is wrong with you? Go let Makenna in, you goofy girl.” Mom puts her fists on her hips and stares at me incredulously.
Dad grabs a roll and pops a piece in his mouth. “Oh, good. I didn’t know she was joining us. I haven’t seen her in a long time.”
The doorbell rings again.
“Mom . . . Dad . . .” I turn to face them. “It’s not Makenna. Please be nice, okay?”
They look at each other, silently contemplating on whether or not they’re going to admit me into a psychiatric ward somewhere, I’m sure. Taking a deep breath, I gather my strength to cross the room toward the front door, straightening my dress before I pull the knob and step out on the front step.
As soon as I see him, as soon as I see his gentle smile, all of my worries fade away. I know that they’ll love him as much as I do because they’ll see what I do in him. He’s the most incredible man I’ve ever known.