Running Back to You (The Running Series, #1) (31 page)

The rest of our dinner conversation seems to focus mainly on my present
career.  When I explain for the tenth time that I’m hoping to transfer to Wilkinson’s
Sweet Shoppe this summer, my mother seems somewhat satisfied.

After dinner, my mother and I are standing at the sink washing while my
grandmother sits and Evan clears the table.  The moment Evan leaves the room
for more dishes, I ask my mother for her impression.

“Juliette, it’s very clear that he’s absolutely crazy about you.  Do you
love him?”

“It’s a little soon, but I’m pretty sure I do,” I have to admit.

“I’m not sure about this professional football career; I really don’t
know a darn thing about football.  But it will take a lot of sacrifices on both
your parts to make this work.”

“I know, mom.”  She’s right.

“Well, then go in with your eyes completely open and don’t hide anything
from him.  When you’re worried, tell him.  When you’re happy, share it with
him.  Let him in, Juliette.”

She’s right.  She usually is. 

“D
id you have a nice dinner, Juliette?” Evan asks me as we drive towards
our next destination.

“I did.  Thank you.  You really made an impression on them both.”  I
squeeze his hand and weave our fingers together.

“Your grandmother’s got a very keen sense of observation.  She was onto me
immediately.”

“Yes, she was.”

The Sky is the
Limit

W
e drive along I-280 for nearly half an hour, and before long, we arrive
in a quaint neighborhood in Cedar Grove.  Evan turns into a cul-de-sac, and
takes us to one of the homes at the end of the street.  Every house we pass is
beautifully landscaped and well maintained.  In a few months when the leaves
once again fill the trees and flowers grace the lawns, I imagine this to be
lovely.  It strikes me as a nice place to raise a family.

I’m starting to feel anxious.  It’s been a long day and now I’m going to
meet Evan’s parents for the first time.  I pull a brush out of my purse and fix
my hair.  I add a little lip-gloss, check myself in the mirror one final time,
and snap my bag shut with a sigh.

“Don’t be nervous, baby.  They’re going to love you.  You look absolutely
beautiful,” Evan assures me.  “This is sort of a first for me, too.  I haven’t
brought anyone home in a very long time, years in fact.”

Holy cow
.
  “Oh,” is all I can manage to say.

As expected, Evan asks me to wait while he walks around to open my car
door.  Hand-in-hand, he escorts me up the sidewalk and to the front door.

The house is a beige contemporary two-story home with a large yard and
full basement.  “Has your sister lived here long?  It’s a beautiful home.”

“She’s been here about five years now.  Her business is doing quite well
and they moved here when they decided to start a family.”  He gives my hand a
reassuring squeeze.  “Let’s go.”

Evan opens the large front door, which opens into a foyer with vaulted
ceilings.  A formal dining room set for dinner is to my right and straight
ahead is a sitting room with a fireplace and a piano.  Of course, the sight and
scent of fresh flowers envelop the entire room.  We can hear lots of chatter
going on from the great room at the back of the house.  Still holding tight, he
leads me into the gathering.

“Evan!  You’re here.”  A petite woman with long sandy-brown hair in her early-thirties
is standing at the stove, stirring what appears to be a pot of spinach.  The
kitchen is striking.  There are two dishwashers, a double oven, a heating tray,
and a generous amount of counter space.  This is the kitchen I dream about
having some day.

Evan leads me right over, kisses his sister, and introduces me.  “Callie,
this is my girlfriend, Juliette Fletcher.  Juliette, this is my sister, Caroline
Warren.”  Callie wraps her arms around me and gives me a warm hug.

“Juliette, it’s so nice to finally meet you.  My little brother over here
can’t stop talking about you.  Welcome to my home.”  Immediately, I like
Callie. She’s a very attractive young woman with blue-gray eyes and a beautiful
smile.

“Thank you for including me.”  Evan wraps one arm around my waist and
pulls me close.

Emerging from another room, carrying two bottles of white wine is a well-dressed
woman in her mid-fifties.  She, too, has sandy brown hair, but hers is
stylishly trimmed to just above her shoulders.  She has striking blue eyes and
a smile that I immediately recognize.  She is, without a doubt, Evan’s mother. 
Excitedly, she places the bottles down on the nearest counter, and makes a beeline
directly towards us.  I take a step back to give Evan the opportunity for a
proper greeting.

He towers over his mother and welcomes her into his arms, giving her a
loving kiss on the top of her head.  She steps away from Evan and takes both my
hands into hers.  “So, you must be the lovely Juliette I’ve been hearing so
much about.  It’s so nice to finally meet the girl that’s got my son here so
smitten.”  She gives me a friendly kiss on the cheek.  “And please, you must
call me Jill.”

Evan has my hand around my waist and is smiling warmly at me.  My heart
is full of love for this man beside me.

Jill leads us into the great room where the men are watching baseball. 
“Evan and Juliette are here!” Jill announces.  Scattered all over the floor are
preschool toys that belong to Callie and Dean’s daughter, Regan, but she’s
nowhere to be seen.

Evan’s dad is tall like him, and years have aged his hair into a
sophisticated salt-and-pepper.  He wears glasses and has a warm smile.  The men
look so much alike.  I can imagine this is what Evan will look like in thirty years’
time.  He walks over to Evan, shakes his hand, and gives him a slap on the
shoulder.  “Nice to see you, son.  And who is this you’ve brought with you
today?”

“Dad, this is Juliette.  Juliette, this is my dad, John McGuire.”  His
dad has a firm but friendly handshake.

“Juliette, it’s very nice to meet you.  Has this young man here been
treating you well?  Did he offer to get you a drink yet?”  The McGuire men are
very charming, indeed.

“Yes, Evan’s been the perfect gentleman.  You’ve raised a very polite and
well-mannered son.  I’m very lucky to know him.”  Evan places his hand on my
hip and pulls me close.  Everyone is watching his every move with keen
interest.  It’s very unnerving.

Dean joins us and introduces himself, too.  He’s nearly six feet tall
himself, but the McGuire men still have a few inches over him.  I notice
someone hiding behind Dean’s leg, too shy to make an appearance.

I peer behind Dean and discover an adorable little girl with brown hair
and big blue eyes.  She’s wearing a tiny blue dress with butterflies all over
it and a matching blue ribbon in her hair.  “Hi.  You must be Regan,” I say to
the little girl as sweetly as I can.  “What a pretty dress you have on today. 
I love butterflies.”  She nods her head, but doesn’t move beyond the safety of
her father’s leg.

“I see you, little Miss.  Come here.”  Once Regan sees Evan, she runs
over to him and gives him a big hug.  He scoops her up into his arms and plants
kisses all over her face.

“Ewww!” Regan blurts and proceeds to wipe off all his kisses.

“Hey, no fair!” Evan bellows and replaces all the kisses she just got
done wiping away.  Satisfied, Evan places her back on the ground where she runs
over to her coloring book and crayons.

“So, how was the traffic?  Did you take 280 or 78?” Dean asks.  The guys
spend the next few minutes discussing the most efficient route for Evan to take
back home later tonight.  Not in the least bit interested in this conversation,
I decide to wander back into the kitchen to see if I can give Callie and Jill a
hand with dinner.

Jill has two bottles of Chardonnay breathing and Callie is busy filling
bowls with vegetables and other goodies to bring to the table.  “Can I help?”

“Oh, no dear.  You’re our guest today.  Here, let me pour you a glass of
wine,” Jill insists.

I turn to glance over at Evan, and he is now seated on the couch with his
father and brother in-law completely engrossed in the game.  It looks like there’s
a baseball game on T.V. today.  I can’t help but think about those poor guys,
playing baseball on a holiday.  Immediately, images of the players’ wives
preparing holiday meals without their husbands flash into my mind.  I wonder
which holidays Evan will miss.  I know Thanksgiving is a big football day.  But
then again, so are Christmas and New Year’s.  Should I really be thinking about
our future holidays so soon?  Probably not.

Jill calls the men over to help put dinner on the table.  Since we have
already eaten, Evan offers to help take care of Regan while Callie and Dean
eat.  Everyone finds a seat at the table, and Evan ushers me to an empty spot
next to him.  His parents sit at either end of the table, and Callie and Dean
are across from us.  Evan has little Regan sitting on his lap, and an
assortment of coloring books and crayons in hand.  Quickly assessing the
situation, I remove his plate and silverware, giving them room to color.

John pours everyone a fresh glass of wine and Jill begins passing the
food around.  The main course is a magnificent rack of lamb that looks
positively scrumptious.  The food is passed around the table, and Evan looks
like he’s just about to burst.  “Sweetie, would you like me to make you a
plate?”  I ask him.

“Oh, yeah!  Baby, you’re the best.”  I shouldn’t be surprised that Evan
has room for a second meal.  It must take a lot of calories to keep him in
shape.

I begin to make him a plate, but I’m not sure about his preferences. 
Does he like vegetables?  Should I give him a lot or a little?  Salt?  Pepper? 
We have a lot to learn about each other.  Evan gives me some help as I make his
plate.  I hold up dishes and he gives me either a nod or a shake to signal his
interest.  As I might have guessed, he likes just about everything.

Once the plate is fixed, a new problem presents itself.  How is he going
to eat with a toddler on his lap?

“Hey, Regan, can I color, too?”

“Sure, here.”  She hands me a purple crayon.

“Want to sit with me so Uncle Evan can eat dinner?” I gently ask.

“Okay.”  And just like that, she hops off of Evan’s lap and plops herself
right onto mine.  Everyone’s eyes immediately dart over to me, including
Evan’s.

“Oh, Callie, I’m sorry.  I can put her down if you prefer.”  I wonder if
I’ve overstepped my bounds.

“No – absolutely not!  I’m just surprised.  Normally, Regan is very shy
around people she doesn’t know.  It’s not like her to go to a stranger so
easily.  Are you sure you’re okay with her while we eat?”

“This is great, right Regan?  What should we color?”

“You color the twees and I color the bunny wabbit.”

“Do I need green for the tree?”  I ask her.

“Paw-pul trees.  Owange bunny.  See?”

“Oh, I see now.  That’s beautiful, Regan.”