Page 52 of Beautiful Trauma
I gasped, pretending to be shocked. “Shameless.”
Henry linked our fingers and led me back down to the Wolverine. “Let’s not keep your parents waiting. After dinner we’ll go back to your place, and I’ll introduce you to the shameless hussy.”
“Oh, baby. He might be my favorite one yet.”
“Good,” Henry said. “I think I’m ready to drive now, Ezra.”
I stopped then reached into my pockets and pulled out the Wolverine keys. “Here you go.”
Henry smirked. “Oh, that wasn’t what I meant, but I can give this a try too.”
I nearly swallowed my tongue when I realized what Henry was referring to. He laughed wickedly and continued walking toward the Wolverine.
“Who’s the cruel one now, Henry?” I called after him.
AFTER OUR DRIVE UP TOthe ridge, I was too excited about my plans for Ezra later that evening and forgot to be intimidated by his parents. I should’ve just trusted Ezra in the first place because both his parents greeted me warmly when they’d introduced themselves. Simone hadn’t even waited for us to walk up to the door before she welcomed me to their home. I forgot I was wearing clothes someone else had worn before I owned them. Worries over our seventeen-year age difference and the reality that Ezra was my professor faded because of the way Ezra looked at me up on the hill. For the first time since meeting Ezra, I had real hope that a relationship was possible between us.
Cherished. Adored.That’s how Ezra made me feel every second we were together. I thought I had known those feelings before I met him; I thought I knew what it was like to be the center of someone’s universe. I was wrong.
“What did you think?” Paul asked when we returned from washing our hands in the powder room.
“I think you own a piece of heaven,” I replied.
“I think the piece of heaven owns us,” Paul quipped.
“Your home is stunning,” I told them. I knew nothing about architecture or maintaining the integrity of an old farmhouse, but I recognized beautiful when I saw it.
“Thank you,” Simone said. “All the woodwork is original. It took the previous owners three years to completely restore the home to its original grandeur after decades of neglect. Unfortunately, the wife was diagnosed with terminal cancer not long after they moved in, and the place was just too much upkeep for the husband to take care of by himself, so they put it on the market.”
“That’s so sad,” I said.
“It really is,” Simone said. “Life is precious and fleeting.”
Beside me, Ezra whispered, “Carpe diem,” in his best Robin Williams voice. I had to bite my lip to keep from giggling. Nothing about the movie was funny, but Ezra finding ways to quote the movie’s lines at every opportunity was hilarious.
“Dead Poets Society,” Paul said, nodding his approval. “Excellent movie.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Ezra said. “It was my choice last week. Henry had never seen it.”
“It is a beautiful but tragic movie,” Simone said.
“Very,” I agreed. Neil Perry’s struggle with a strict, unaccepting father reminded me so much of the last fight I’d had with my mother. Ezra had regretted his movie choice when I burst into tears toward the end, but he kissed away the hurt. Seeing the parallels between Neil’s life and mine were heartbreaking, but it also reminded me of the beauty in my life. After Ezra had fallen asleep, I lay awake in the dark more determined than ever to pay my blessings forward to help others.
“Speaking of seizing the day,” Paul said, gesturing with a dramatic flourish to the food spread out over the kitchen island. “Let’s eat.”
The ridge had made me forget my fears, and the first bite of delicious smoked meat made me forget my manners. I didn’t lick the barbecue sauce off my fingers, but I was tempted to lick it from Ezra’s—parents present or not. I didn’t belch or toss the cleaned bones over my shoulders, but I forgot all the pleasantries I’d learned from the time I could sit up at the table. I didn’t participate in the small talk exchanged at the table, and I didn’t compliment the hosts on their delicious meal. I wasn’t even aware of my rudeness until I was halfway through my second plate.
I set my fork down and wiped my mouth with the napkin I’d at least remembered to lay across my lap. “Oh my goodness. This food is so amazing I forgot myself. These are the best barbecue ribs I’ve ever had, Paul. The potato salad is the best I’ve had since my grandmother passed away, Simone.”
She reached over and patted my hand. “Seeing you enjoy the food so much is the only compliment we need. Paul takes great pride in his ribs. He’s thinking about entering them in a Pitmaster contest held at the county fairgrounds later this year.”
“Really?” Ezra asked, his voice and eyebrows lifting in surprise. “You’ve adjusted to country living extremely well.”
“Your mother is thinking about entering her jams at the county fair next year,” Paul said so fast it almost sounded accusatory.
Ezra smirked. “Dad, you might as well have just pointed at Mom and said she started it.”
“I kind of did start it,” Simone said sheepishly. “I started dragging him to farmers’ markets and pick-your-own-fruit farms. He started playing around with seasonings and spices to make his own dry rub and barbecue sauce, and I started baking and trying my luck at making jam.”