"Mom," I call from behind her as she attempts to perfectly align the silverware with the plates. She snaps her head up to look at me, automatically plastering a smile on her face as she notices the dashing young man standing beside me, "this is Noah-"
"The boyfriend," he finishes my sentence, introducing himself. "Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Sterling" he says extending his arm to politely shake her hand.
"Oh please, no need for such formalities. Call me Meredith." She says in the special sweet tone she reserves for first impressions and phone calls.
"Well then, Meredith, these are for you," Her face lights up as Noah hands her the second bouquet of roses he brought, differing from mine in the fact that hers are white "And this," he says handing her whatever's hiding in the glossy box, "is for after dinner."
"So thoughtful," my mom gushes and peeks inside the box "And raspberry cheesecake, my favourite!" she gasps "I like you already" she adds, stepping toward the kitchen, probably to put the dessert in the fridge. I take a look at Noah raising one eyebrow at him.
"What?" He questions innocently.
"You're good." I say.
"I told you they love me" he flashes me a quick wink as my mom comes back and approaches the stairs.
"Sterling, will you come down? Our guest is here!" She calls after my dad.
"I'm coming honey! Geez, no need to yell." My dad says appearing at the bottom of the staircase, buttoning up the cuffs of his shirt. As soon as Noah spots him he hurriedly let's go of my hand and steps towards my dad.
"You must be Noah," my dad smiles giving his hand a firm shake.
"Yes I am Sir, very nice to meet you."
"Likewise, and please, call me Marcus." My dad steps closer to my mom and Noah lowers down to whisper in my ear "See? No need to be nervous, I'm already making progress."
His little comment makes me smile. I love the fact that Noah contrasts with me in that way. I'm an introverted overthinker, but he exudes confidence in a way that makes people drawn to him. He's charming, has such a way with words, and even his body language expresses that he's not one to shy away from conversation. We complement each other in a sense.
"Shall we?" My mom speaks up, catching our attention and gesturing towards the table. She heads into the kitchen and the rest of us take our seats, Noah and I sitting beside one another and across from my dad so that he can take the seat next to my mom's.
She comes back with oven mitts on and carrying a silver platter that her roast is sitting on, which fills the air with a mouthwatering smell. She sets the platter on the table and proceeds to collect our plates, serving a piece of the meat and a side of roasted potatoes and carrots to each one of us before taking her seat. "Enjoy!" She says with a housewife-from-the-fifties smile and we all dig in.
"Noah?" My dad points a bottle of wine at him, offering him a glass.
"Oh, no thank you. I don't drink." He says with a dismissive hand gesture. That's a lie bigger than the Buckingham Palace, but he's quick and obviously noticed that it was a test. Well played.
"Meredith, I must say, this tastes incredible. You should become a chef." Noah says before picking up his glass for a sip of water.
"I'm glad you think that, because I actually am one." My mom says lifting her gaze from her plate.
"Really? Then I must say you definitely chose the right career path. You've got a real gift." She blushes and I mentally roll my eyes. He's such a sweet talker and my mom is eating it up.
"So, tell us about yourself," my dad speaks "for starters, how old are you?"
"Uhm, just turned eighteen Sir. Sorry, Marcus." he corrects himself "I'm a senior in high school. Maddison and I are in the same grade and we share a couple of classes."
"That's good." My dad nods, "Do you have any plans for after you graduate?"
"Well, I'm the captain of the school's football team, which betters my chances at getting an athletic scholarship I've been striving for." subtle brag, but a welcome one in this context. "I'm very interested in a career in business, my plan is to get a degree in finance."
"Good at sports and business oriented, very impressive" my dad clasps his hands together, ticking the boxes in his mental checklist of attributes the perfect candidate for his daughter should have.
My parents keep shooting questions at Noah for a while, and by the time they're done interviewing him, we've all finished our food and we're ready for dessert.
We all help carry the dishes to the sink and we switch the big dinner plates for identical, but smaller dessert ones. My mom brings the cheesecake to the table and cuts each of us a slice. I eat silently, enjoying how well Noah is getting on with my parents, conversation flows naturally between them and he even gets them to let out a few laughs. My dad seems to be pretty pleased with him, and I can tell my mom has already fallen for his irresistible charm.
"About your parents, is there any chance we know them?" my mom says, and I notice the sudden change of Noah's cheerful expression to a more serious one "Uhm..." he trails off searching for the right thing to say, and noticing his discomfort I discreetly slide my hand under the table and place it on his thigh. He relaxes a bit and lays his hand on top of mine before he begins speaking.
"That's highly unlikely. We moved to this town when I was born, but they've never been the type to get involved with the community. They like keeping to themselves."
"Well, I'd love to meet them." My mom says "If they raised a nice young man like you then I'm sure we would get along quite well." I see Noah wince the slightest bit and I flip my hand so that it's palm up and lace our fingers together.
"Then, unfortunately, you'll have to meet them separately. They can't stand being in the same room with each other." He purses his lips into a thin line, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. We all go quiet for a moment, until my mom predictably feels the need to fill the silence.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Noah,"
"It's no big deal," he shrugs "They have been divorced since I was about ten, so it doesn't really have an impact on my life anymore. And besides, most people's parents are either divorced or separated nowadays so I guess you could say it's pretty normal." He's downplaying it, I can tell by the visible tension on his shoulders that there's way more to this story than a simple, mutual decision to split.
"Not us, twenty years and counting," my mom says, smiling at my dad and taking his hand, being completely oblivious as to how insensitive she's being.
"Twenty years," Noah repeats impressed by the number, "You don't see that often these days." he shifts the spotlight away from himself.
"Actually, only married for twenty, we've been together since high school. Well, if you don't count the little mishaps that is."
"What do you mean?" Noah inquiries.
"We got together in junior year, dated for about three years and then we split because of some...differences," mom discreetly points at my dad and rolls her eyes, making Noah let out a little chuckle. "Anyway, I told him he could call me when he was ready for a mature relationship, and a year later he did, and we gave it another shot. We've been inseparable ever since." She rests her head on my dad's shoulder and he gives the back of her hand a little kiss.
"That's so great that you could grow separately and find each other again later on in life." Noah says.
"Yeah, I guess we were pretty lucky in that sense."
After that I decided to veer the conversation towards a more lighthearted topic, and thankfully it worked. We chatted, shared a few laughs over my dad's cheesy jokes, and ate a lot of cheesecake. Once we were done, Noah and I volunteered to do the dishes, me washing and him drying, while my parents lounged around at the table.
Stepping back into the dining room, Noah runs a hand through his hair "Well it's getting pretty late, I should probably get going. I just hope my bike didn't get too wet." And as he bends down to say goodbye to my dad, he interrupts him.
"Are you kidding? There's a huge storm and you drove here on a motorcycle. It's not safe for you to go out in this weather, especially when it's dark. You should stay."
My eyes widen at my dad's suggestion, and I wonder whether I'm hallucinating or those words actually did come out of his mouth just now.
Noah looks taken aback for a second, "Thank you so much for your hospitality, but I wouldn't want to be inappropriate and overstay my welcome, Sir." Noah politely declines.
"Nonsense." my dad dismisses Noah's concerns, "I'm offering, so it's obviously fine by me. It would be rude of me to make you leave in these conditions, so please stay." he offers again "Maddison darling, why don't you show him downstairs, and get him settled there for the night. The big mattress is tucked behind the entertainment centre." he instructs.
"Are you being serious right now?" I ask incredulously.
"Why? Would you prefer I throw him out in the rain?" he shots back sarcastically.
"Well if you insist...I'm not one to go against my father's wishes."
"Just one thing," he says from the second step on his way up the stairs "Keep your hands to yourself Noah. I'm a cool dad, but not that cool."
"Dad!" I say in embarrassment with my cheeks burning hot.
"Have a good night kids." he laughs before disappearing up the steps.
Noah and I stand in silence, unsure of what to do next. I'm half expecting this to be a trap, and I keep thinking my dad's head is going to pop back down here and be like 'just kidding, now get the hell out of my house' but I hear him shut his bedroom door, which means he won't be coming back down until tomorrow morning.
Taking that as my cue, I walk a few steps down the hallway and slide the door to the basement open. I peer over my shoulder to see Noah still standing in his place, staring back at me.
"You coming?" I say looking at him through my lashes. And all I can see is the flash of his devilish grin before I'm swallowed by the darkness of the staircase.