She was usually the picture of politeness, but not when she felt like her home was being invaded.
A half hour passed by, and my mind wandered. I probably should have been thinking about Sterling, but instead I wondered whether Dante had ever had true Southern barbecue before, what he would think of the ranch, and what he would think of my parents. I hoped they liked him.
I heard a car, and I went over to the window, but it turned out to just be the delivery driver. He left after handing my mother the food, and about ten minutes later I heard another car coming into our driveway. This time it had to be him. There was a lightness in my chest, and adrenaline coursed through me as I went out to the porch to greet him.
He was in jeans and a dark blue T-shirt today, much more casual than I’d anticipated. I wore a pale pink dress, as I’d thought he might have dressed up. He came up to kiss me hello. “You look just horrid today,” he said with a grin.
“You’re looking very unpleasant yourself.” I smiled back.
I led him inside to the parlor, where my parents waited. My parents were slow to warm up to people, and I hoped this evening wouldn’t turn into a huge, awkward disaster. “Mother, this is Dante. Dante, this is my mother, Sue Ellen Beauchamp, and my father, Montgomery Beauchamp.”
My mother held her hand out to him while simultaneously glaring at me. I’d let her down yet again. She probably thought I was being too informal, given his title. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Dante took her hand and, smart man that he was, kissed it hello. Like he’d just waltzed out of the nineteenth century. “This can’t be your mother,” he said to me. “You told me your mother was fifty-eight years old.”
My mother giggled. Giggled! “Parts of me are,” she said conspiratorially, which caused Dante to laugh, and my mother actually looked flustered. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her even a little discomposed. “Should we call you Your Highness or Prince Dante?”
I’d guessed right about the source of her displeasure.
“Just Dante, please.”
My father stood up to meet him, and Dante gave him a hearty handshake. “I’m also pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise. Lemonade has told us so much about you. She’s just gone on and on, and I’m glad we get a chance to finally meet you.”
Now it was my turn to be flustered, and I could definitely feel my cheeks turning pink. Dante gave me a knowing grin, and my face got hotter.
My parents stood up, with my father offering my mother his arm. “If you would care to join us in the dining room, we’ve prepared one of Lemon’s favorites.”
Dante offered me his arm, and when I took it, he leaned in to whisper, “It’s cute that your father calls you Lemonade. Maybe I should start calling you Limonata.” I knew why he liked it. I could actually hear him thinking the words, “sweet and tart.”
I told my rising blood pressure that this was neither the time nor the place for that.
And despite my decision, I still managed to say something I shouldn’t have. “I like when you call me Limone,” I confessed.
His eyes shone, like he was lit up from within. “Then Limone it is.” While my heart tried to resume its normal beat, he turned to my mother and asked, “What is that delicious smell?”
“That? Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little something I put together.”
“Translation,” I whispered into his ear. “My mother made her world-famous phone call to our favorite barbecue restaurant and had them deliver.”
I could see him trying not to laugh as he helped me into my chair. I got the ecru linen napkin from my plate and put it over my lap. My parents had shortened the dining room table so that we could all sit close together. Momma and Daddy sat next to each other across from us, and Dante was seated next to me.
“Let’s say grace.” My father reached out for my hand and I took Dante’s with the other, and braced myself so that I wouldn’t jump or react in front of my parents. I managed to keep it under control. As my father prayed, Dante ran his thumb gently back and forth across my skin, and it was very hard to give thanks to the Lord since all I could focus on was that tingling sensation Dante caused.