Page 89 of Finding Him
“No,” I lie, stirring the pot again.
She sighs, shaking her head. Claire suddenly appears beside me, nudging me away from the stove so she can taste the sauce bubbling in the other pot.
“You’re supposed to be setting the table,” I remind her.
She shrugs, trying to grab another spoonful but I stop her by the wrist. “I finished, and I wanted to try the sauce.”
“Claire-Bear, you’re worse than Comet.”
She sticks her tongue out at me, grabbing another spoonful and running away before I can retaliate.
Ma has us all dressed up nicely—Claire’s in a blue floral sundress, and my button down is a matching shade. She sent JJ home a few minutes ago to change, since he stays in his pajamas all day whenever it’s the weekend and we don’t have games.
He returns soon enough, and once Ma has approved his outfit she’s having us set the food on the table in these fancy serving bowls. We usually just make our plates at the counter and sit down at the table—but apparently dinner parties call for different etiquette. Mam is still trying to decide if there’s a certain order she wants to switch the bowls around in when the doorbell rings.
The dining room and kitchen are a connected room at the back of the house, so Claire practically sprints down the hallway to be the one to open the front door. Mam quickly smoothes down her apron, takes a deep breath, and follows her out.
I stand frozen behind one of the wooden chairs at the table, which is set for nine people, gripping the curved back of the wood so tightly my knuckles turn white. JJ notices, of course. He steps up beside me and claps a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“Sheesh, Nialler, relax, will ya?” JJ laughs quietly. “It’s not like they’re gonna take one look at ya and decide ya ain’t good enough for their daughter. Though, to be fair, you are punching well above your weight.”
I shove his hand off me. “Shut up, Jonathan.”
He grins, unbothered. “You’re so easy to wind up.”
Before I can retaliate, Claire comes running back into the dining room, grinning from ear to ear like she’s just won the lottery. “They’re here!” she stage-whispers.
“No? Really? I thought the birds were ringing the bell.”
Mam walks in just a second later, with Molly’s mother right beside her. Molly and her older sister follow, and right behind them is a man who must be her father (who she told me yesterday was coming, making my anxiety worse than it already was), carrying Lorraine.
“This is my eldest, my son, Niall,” Mam says, introducing me. Molly’s dad gives me a swift once over, and I fight the overwhelming urge to fidget under his scrutiny.
“And this,” Ma continues, gesturing to JJ. “is my godson. He doesn’t live here but he might as well.”
JJ beams, offering a cheeky wave. “Hiya Mr—I forgot the last name you told me, Mols, sorry—lovely to meet ya.”
Her dad chuckles, charmed by the parasite right away. “Just Luca is fine, JJ.”
Mam then gestures to Claire, who is practically bouncing on her toes with excitement. “And this is my daughter, Claire.”
“Hi! I’ve heard tons about you!”
“Likewise, Claire,” her dad says with a big smile, his dark eyes flicking back to me for a second. He sets Lorraine down, and Mam directs everyone to their chairs. I’m able to hang back for just a second, stepping closer to Molly.
“Hey,” she says quietly.
I let my eyes wash over her. “Hey.”
She’s in an oversized dark green knit jumper, paired with dark jeans. Her caramel hair is pulled back into a loose braid that rests over her shoulder, a few stray pieces framing her face. She looks gorgeous. Unbelievably, unfairly pretty. Beautiful.
“You look...” I start, my brain short-circuiting and I force myself to look at her eyes. “Uh, nice. You look really nice.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “Thanks. You too. Nice hair. Did it take you long to glue it up like that?”
“Funny,” I say dryly, pretending like my heart isn’t doing somersaults.
I’m about to fire a retort about the worn out red Converse she’s worn since the first day I saw her, when my mother clears her throat at the table. She gestures to two empty chairs on very, very opposite sides of the table.
