Christmas. Grant, Pat and I made a
promise to my mother that no matter where we are, we would always
come home for Thanksgiving or Christmas.”
“What did you tell them about me?” Jan asked
absentmindedly taking in the scenery now that they were out of the
airport
“I just told them you were divorced with two
daughters. And I mentioned that you run your own business.”
“That’s all?”
“Yeah. That’s all they needed to know. I
didn’t want them to have any preconceived ideas. When they meet you
they’ll love you. Just like I did.”
She paused and stared out the window. “This
is so awkward, Mac. I’m too old for this kind of stuff.”
He treated her to a sexy smile that put
butterflies in her stomach. “Cut it out, will you? We’re going to
have a great time. I want to give you a heads up though. They’re
planning a big ol’ Texas-style barbecue in our honor.”
“Oh, Lord,” was all she could mutter.
The towering skyscrapers and modern
architecture of the Dallas skyline temporarily took Jan’s mind off
her apprehension. She made him promise that they would spend some
time downtown before they returned to Atlanta.
John and Ruth Sinclair lived in Richardson,
the home of Mac’s alma mater, the University of Texas. He fondly
recalled his college days while they drove past the campus. Jan
finished touching up her makeup as he turned into the street where
his parents lived in a sprawling ranch house on an acre of
land.
In a matter of seconds after he pulled into
the driveway, his mother and father appeared at the front door and
rushed down the walk before Mac could even open Jan’s car door. Her
apprehension level dropped considerably when his mother greeted her
with a warm hug. “Jan, we’re so happy to meet you. This is my
husband, John.”
Tall and extremely fit for his age, Mac’s
father had with mixed gray hair and that distinct military posture,
Jan couldn’t get over how much Mac resembled his father. True to
Mac’s prediction, he stood back, looking Jan up and down in the
same way Mac had done the first night she cooked for him. “You’ve
got excellent taste, son.”
“Yeah. Just like my father.” Mac kissed his
mother’s cheek.
Ruth took Jan by the hand and told them all
to come inside. She opened the door to aromas that rivaled a
Thanksgiving morning. “What smells so good?” Jan asked as they made
their way into the family room at the back of the house.
“I fixed Mac’s favorite meal since he was a
child – homemade chili, coleslaw, cornbread, red Kool-Aid and
glazed lemon pound cake for dessert,” Ruth answered with a smile
that radiated love for her firstborn.
“Looks like somebody is going to get spoiled
this weekend.” Jan said, giving Mac a wink.
John slipped an arm around Jan’s shoulders
and steered her over to the sofa to sit with him. “He knows he’s
his mother’s favorite,” John chimed in. “She just pretends she
loves all of her children the same.”
“John Sinclair! I do love all of my children
the same,” Ruth protested unconvincingly. “It’s just that Mac has
always lived so far away. I don’t get to see him too often.”
“Whatever you say, darlin. So, how long are
you two going to be here?” he asked.
Mac answered. “Until Monday. I have to be
back at work and Jan has a client on Tuesday.”
“That’s right. He mentioned you’re a personal
chef. Tell me more about that, Jan. It sounds interesting,” Ruth
said, instantly making Jan feel more comfortable.
“I love it. Cooking has always been a source
of expression for me. Now I get paid for it. It’s great to be able
to make a living doing something you enjoy.”
“So tell me how you ended up with this
clown.”
Jan told them the story of the night Mac
hired her to cook for his dinner party and how persistent he’d been
in convincing her to come back the next night. Ruth and John seemed
to get a kick out of hearing about the romantic side of their
son.
• •