Page 60 of Daring Destiny
The Next Morning
Todayisamonumentalmilestone.
Yep. At thirty-two years old, it’s the first and only time I’ve ever met a girlfriend’s parents.
I’m not sure how it’s gonna go. Astrid’s been acting weird all morning. I can’t tell if she’s nervous about what her parents will think about me or what I’ll think of her parents. Either way, she’s been quiet on the drive over to West Seattle.
We arrive at Salty’s on Alki a bit earlier than our reservation and take a moment to enjoy the incredible view of Seattle’s skyline shimmering across the water like something on a postcard. This place is a Seattle institution.
“Have you been here before?” I take Astrid’s hand as we walk up the concrete steps to the front door.
She shakes her head. “Strangely, no. But my mom always wanted to eat here. I’ve invited them a few times and they’ve always said no. Today, I’m guessing you’re the draw.”
I hold the door open for her and we step inside. She looks around nervously, which kills me. Astrid is the most confident, put-together person I know and to see her being skittish freaks me out a bit. She’s shared stories of her family ever since we became friends, but I’m reconsidering whether this introduction should be in a public setting.
Well, we’re here. Seated by a large window with a panoramic view of the city. I place my hand over hers, give it a squeeze and look around the place. It’s nice, but definitely geared toward tourists rather than locals. It has a chain-restaurant vibe. A quick glance at the menu makes me realize we’re paying mostly for the location.
“They’ll be fine,” she mutters to herself a couple of times.
I brush a hair from her forehead and clear my throat. “So, uh… How should I act around them? Are there any topics I should avoid?”
“You’re not prepping for a board meeting, B.” Astrid raises her eyebrows and swats me lightly.
“Yeah…” I hesitate because I don’t want to screw this up. “But, I want to make a good impression.”
She sighs softly. “Just be you. Don’t overthink it. Trust me, they’re the ones who should be trying to make an impression on you.”
“Oh-kay.” There’s something in her tone that puts me on edge. “Hopefully they like me.”
“They don’t like anyone. It’s how they are.” Astrid gazes at me sadly.
I decide not to push. If there’s anything gleaned, Astrid’s family dynamics are complicated. Today’s brunch will be a real test for her, maybe for us.
I kiss her, sensing she needs some reassurance. “I’ve got you. I love you.”
“I love you too.” She wipes the lipstick off my lips and smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Jens and Brigitte arrive a little late. Her father’s tall and lanky, with a bit of a hunch, his thick, gray hair is slicked back. Brigitte is short and birdlike with long, silver hair and wire-rimmed glasses. They walk briskly toward us but seem like they’d rather be anywhere else but here. We stand as they approach.
“Hi, Mom, Dad,” Astrid greets them and hugs her father.
Jens pats her back awkwardly. When Astrid leans over to hug her mother, Brigitte stiffens. Like Astrid has a contagious disease. Hmm. Maybe she doesn’t do affection.
I extend my hand to her parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Gustaffson. Nice to meet you.”
Jens takes my hand and shakes it firmly but Brigitte barely looks at me. She turns to Astrid. “Brunch on the waterfront. I should have guessed.”
Astrid’s smile tightens, but she doesn’t say anything. Her eyes flick to mine for a moment, an apology buried in their depths. She knew this was coming.
We sit down and a waitress comes over with menus. As soon as Brigitte sees the prices, her face pinches with disdain. “Twenty-four dollars for avocado toast?” she mutters to herself but loud enough for everyone to hear. “Absurd.”
I watch Astrid closely as she skims the menu. Her fingers absently trace the edges of the paper, but she doesn’t seem to be reading it. She’s tense, almost like she’s bracing herself for whatever’s coming.
It hits me wrong. I hate she can’t be herself around her parents. This version of her is different—guarded, like she’s shielding herself from something I can’t quite comprehend.Yet.
The conversation starts slowly. After some—eh—pleasantries, Jens asks about my work. Before I can dive into anything about CognifyAI, Brigitte jumps in. “Technology,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I don’t get the obsession. Everyone glued to their phones, chasing after the next shiny thing.”
“I’ve told you about Brennan’s company CognifyAI.” Astrid takes a sip of water. “What I haven’t mentioned is when we first reconnected he agreed to help me with our high-school reunion. We came up with a cool idea and now we’re business partners in a new start-up we named Reuniverse. Brennan’s developed some cool AI technology with real market potential.”