Page 87 of A Real Goode Time

She was assessing him, both as a woman and as my mother. Letting him have the full force of the Mom-looking-INTO-you stare, that left you feeling like she’d seen just about everything there was to see and was weighing it all.

“Thank you for helping my daughter get here, Rhys. We’ve all been worried about her, knowing she was too stubborn and independent to let us help her.”

Rhys just held the smile, not at all discomfited by her assessment, confident in who he was. “She’s a remarkable human being, Mrs. Goode, which, from where I’m standing, means you must be a hell of a woman yourself.”

Mom grinned at me. “He’s a charmer, Torie.”

“Don’t I know it,” I said.

And that, for some reason, was when I realized I’d entirely stopped checking in with Leighton and Jillie. They were going to be so mad.

Later. All of it, later.

Mom laughed. “So you two crazy kids drove all the way here from New Haven?”

I nodded. “Almost nonstop, too. Once we started, we just…kept going, trading off when one of us got tired. We only stopped the first night, in…Ohio, I think it was?”

Rhys nodded. “Just outside Cleveland.”

Mom shook her head. “That’s crazy. But you’re here, you’re safe, and there’s plenty of time before the wedding to find you a dress.” She looked me up and down. “And, no offense, but a bra.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Oh, don’t start that up, Mom. I brought one. I just don’t like to wear them. But I will for Lexie’s wedding.” I frowned. “Not thrilled at the idea of a dress, though.”

Mom laughed, glanced at Rhys. “Not sure if you’ve picked up on this, but my dear Victoria is not exactly the type to wear dresses.”

I shook my head. “I’ve worn a dress exactly twice in my life. And I’ve hated it both times.”

“I’ve picked up on it, yes.” Rhys grinned. “What were the two times?”

I winced. “Um. Grandma and Grandpa, Mom’s parents, died within days of each other, when I was…nine? I wore a dress to their joint funeral. And then to…um. To Dad’s funeral.”

Rhys closed his eyes briefly. “Shit, I should’ve known. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s okay.” I brightened, with a bit of effort. “I’m glad to be wearing a dress for a happy occasion.”

“Amen to that,” Mom said, then clapped her hands. “So, kids. Where are you two staying?”

We glanced at each other.

“Oh…I…we—” I stammered. “Um.”

I glanced at Rhys, but he was no help.

“Um.” I sighed. “I hadn’t thought that far, and Rhys and I are…we’re not…we haven’t quite figured out…”

Mom’s eyes widened. “Oh, shoot. I guess I assumed the wrong thing, huh?” A pause, as she sorted through the situation. “Well, Rhys, you’re staying for the wedding, yes? You drove all the way here, so you may as well stay. It’s going to be a big old party, and we’d love to have you.”

He stammered. “I…I…” He glanced at me. “I mean…”

I was still holding his hand. “He’s staying for the wedding. As for who’s staying where, we’ll have to figure that out.”

“You’re both welcome to stay here, but if you’re not stayingtogether, then Rhys can hang with Myles and the guys. The week leading up the wedding itself has sort of turned into this weird, crazy bonanza bachelor-bachelorette…thing. The guys hang out by themselves all day, the girls with the girls, and then at night we all get together and just…” she sighed. “Well, you’ll see for yourself. Point is, Rhys, if you’re comfortable getting acquainted with a bunch of loud, vulgar, rough, wild, Alaskan men, then I guarantee you’ll have a great time, and they’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

“Ma’am,” he drawled, “I grew up in no-name holler in the backwoods of Kentucky. Loud, vulgar, rough, and wild sounds like home to me.”

She laughed. “You’ll do just fine, in that case.”

I looked around. “Where is everyone else?”