Page 9 of Say You Will
“Love you both.”
We said our goodbyes and I ended the call, immediately pulling up the Larks’. Momma answered.
“Darren, my dear. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, of course. Why do you think something’s wrong?”
“The game’s on.”
“Right.” Even I could hear the uncertainty in my voice.
“So what can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if I could take you and Papa Lark out for breakfast or lunch tomorrow.”
There was a beat of silence. “Tomorrow? Yes, of course. Papa loves going out for breakfast. Shall we meet you somewhere?”
Momma and I made plans of time and place, and again, I ended the call. I reclined in the office chair, twisting myself left then right, mulling over the words I would say tomorrow. The doorknob rattled, followed by a soft knock.
“Dare, babe. You okay? I’m getting nervous out here.”
I shoved myself up and across the room, throwing the lock, and opening the door. “I’m fine.”
He cupped the back of my neck and pulled me in for a swift kiss. “This secret…you really can’t tell me?”
“I can’t; I'm sorry.”
“No, no. You know how I feel about that. If you promised, you promised. The locked door just surprised me is all.”
I nodded. “It’s all good, love. I swear.”
He gave me another kiss. “Okay. I trust you. Come back and watch the rest of the game with me?”
“Let me grab my tea, and I’ll be right there.”
With one more kiss, he returned to the den.
I picked up my mug and phone, took one step, and stopped. Biting my lower lip, I turned on my phone and deleted my last two calls from the log.
Just in case, I told myself. The surprise was paramount.
I met Ace’s parents at Papa Lark’s favorite diner. We’d eaten there before, a hole in the wall by its looks on the outside. Inside, however, was classic old school. Pictures of antique cars filled the walls, the tables speckled Formica. The booths of classic red vinyl seated four to six, and the counter seated another twelve.
Personally, I adored the pastries in their Plexiglas cases, but a sugar hype wasn’t what I needed right now. Nope, a big slug of vodka would’ve hit the anxiety-ridden spot.
I sat across from them, cradling my mug of coffee. The waitress came around for orders, but I couldn’t. Not yet, at least. Butterflies or maybe a tornado tangled my gut.
“Darren,” Mama Lark said, reaching across the table and laying her hand on my forearm. She glanced at Papa Lark before meeting my gaze. “What did you want to talk to us about? Everything okay with you and Ronnie?”
I blew out a staggered breath. “We’re good, I swear, but I…I need to ask you something.”
At their nods, I continued, mumbling. “God, this shouldn’t be hard.” Louder, I said, “Okay, so Ace and I, we’ve been together for three years now, and you know I love him.”
“We do,” Mama Lark said, patting my arm, a soft smile on her lips.
“Well, I want to take it to the next level.”
“And what level is that?”