Page 30 of Love, Second Chances and Other Nonsense
“See? Four out of five isn’t bad,” Adam says, his dimples deepening as he smiles. “And Mom will come around completely once she gets to know you better.”
I nod, though I’m not convinced. There was a reserve in Paula, a distance that never quite went away, even when she was smiling and complimenting my cooking or the way I’d decorated our apartment.
“I just want them to approve of me,” I say quietly. “I want to feel like I belong with you, with your family.”
“You do belong with me,” Adam says firmly, leaning forward to press a kiss to my forehead. “And they’ll all see that, if they don’t already. Mom just takes time to warm sometimes.”
I force a smile. “I’ll keep working on her.”
“You don’t need to work on her,” Adam says. “Just be yourself. That’s who I fell in love with.”
I nod, but in my mind, I’m already planning. Next time I’ll ask more questions about her church activities. I’ll wear more conservative clothes. I’ll find out her favorite flowers and have them delivered for her birthday. Somehow, I’ll get Paula Kelley to approve of me.
We settle on the couch, Adam’s arm around me as we watch a movie, but my mind keeps returning to the visit, turning over moments and conversations, looking for clues. There’s one thing in particular that’s been nagging at me since the second night of their stay — a conversation I wasn’t meant to hear.
It takes me until the movie credits are rolling to work up the courage to ask about it.
“Adam?” I say, my voice smaller than I intend.
“Hmm?” He looks down at me, drowsy and content.
“Who’s Millie?”
His body tenses slightly against mine. “Where did you hear that name?”
I sit up so I can see his face better. “The other night, when you and your mom were doing dishes. I was coming back from the bathroom and I heard her say something about how she’d always thought you’d end up with Millie.”
Adam’s expression flickers through several emotions too quickly for me to read before settling into something carefully neutral. “Oh. That.”
“Yeah, that.” I keep my voice even. “Who is she?”
Adam shifts, creating a small space between us on the couch. “Millie Greene. She’s the daughter of my parents’ best friends, Eric and Rhonda. We grew up together.”
I wait for more, but he stops there, as if that explains everything.
“So why did your mom think you’d end up with her?” I prompt.
“I don’t know, just one of those funny ideas she gets. Millie’s practically my third sister.”
“Sisters aren’t usually who your mother expects you to ‘end up with,’” I point out.
Adam winces slightly. “Okay, maybe not exactly like a sister. We did date for a bit in high school.”
Something cold settles in my stomach. “You dated.”
“For like a year, my senior year.” Adam rushes to explain. “It was one of those things where everyone expected it. Our families have been friends forever; we’d grown up together. But we quickly figured out we made much better friends than a couple.”
“So you broke up with her?” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual.
“Yeah, right before college. I wanted to go to an out-of-state college, and she wanted to stay in Iowa. It was mutual,” he adds quickly. “We both knew it wasn’t going anywhere romantically.”
“But your mom hoped it would,” I say, connecting the dots.
Adam shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “Mom and Millie’s mom, Rhonda, have been best friends since they were kids. They always had this fantasy about their kids growing up and getting married, joining the families officially.”
“That explains some things,” I murmur, thinking of Paula’s reserved politeness.
“What does it explain?”
