Marge asked.
"I just found out yesterday. I thought I had the flu."
"Can we watch a video. Aunt Marty?"
"Sure, Mindy. You know where they are."
"I don't want to watch TV," Mike Junior said. "Can Nikki and I play on your computer?"
Marisa smiled at her nephew. "Sure, Mike."
With the two younger kids settled in front of the television watching Beauty and the Beast, the adults went into the kitchen for coffee and conversation.
"So I can't wait to meet Grigori," Barbara said. "What's he look like?"
"A GQ model."
"Really?" Barbara grinned lasciviously. " 'Bout time we had a handsome man in the family."
"Hey!" Mike exclaimed. "What about me?"
"You?" Barbara shrieked as Mike poked her in the ribs. "What about you?"
"I'm handsome. Aren't I, Marty?"
"Well..."
"Hey, come on, I'm your brother. You're supposed to back me up."
"Right. Like you backed me up when I asked you if Steve Renouf liked me, and you spread it all over the school that I had a crush on him."
"Haven't you forgotten about that yet?"
"No, and I never will."
"Okay, kids, settle down," Jack said. "I don't wanna have to send you to your rooms."
Marisa and Mike exchanged looks and then burst into laughter, and Marisa thought again how wonderful it was to have her family there, to feel the love they shared for one another.
They reminisced about old times, exchanged news, talked about the wedding. Before long it was time to get ready for dinner. Mr. Abbott's wife had agreed to come and stay with the kids while the adults went out to dinner.
Marisa ordered pizza for the kids, and then it was six o'clock.
There were millions of butterflies going crazy in her stomach by the time Grigori arrived. Would her parents like him? Would he like them? Would they notice there was something different about him?
He kissed her cheek when she opened the door. "You look lovely," he whispered, and his breath felt warm and intimate against her ear.
"Thanks. Are you ready to meet everyone?"
He nodded. "Worried?"
"A little."
He smiled down at her. "I love you, cara."
Words. They were just words. Ordinary words that were said every day, but they washed over her like a soothing balm, calming the butterflies.
"I love you, too." She took his hand and led him into the living room. "Hey, everybody, this is Grigori."
Was it her imagination, or was there a sudden lack of oxygen in the room? Her father and Mike exchanged glances she couldn't interpret. Her mother pressed a hand to her heart. Barbara murmured, "Oh, my, you were right."
Grigori slid a glance at Maria. "Right? About what?"
"I told them you looked like a GQ model."
"Ahhh."
She quickly introduced Grigori to everyone, including the kids, and then they trooped outside.
Mike let out a long, low whistle when he saw Grigori's Corvette. "Wow, nice wheels."
"You should see mine." Marisa tossed the words over her shoulder as she slid into the passenger seat. "Mine's red."
Mike looked at Grigori. "She's kidding, right?"
Grigori shook his head.
"But... but how?"
"And it's a convertible," Marisa added.
She grinned at the look of astonishment on her brother's face.
Mike, Barb, and her parents climbed into the van Mike had rented, and Grigori pulled away from the curb. He checked the rearview mirror to make certain her family was following, then gave her knee a squeeze. "You look like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary."
"I can't help it." She grinned at him. "This is the first time I ever had a better car than Mike." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for that."
"You are most welcome. How was your day?"
"Fine - " The words died in her throat as she recalled Edward's visit that morning. In the rush of her family's arrival, she had forgotten all about it.
Grigori glanced over at her, noting the worry lines in her brow. "Is something wrong?"
"I don't want to talk about it now."
"As you wish."
They drove the rest of the way in silence.
Dinner went well. Marisa watched Grigori carefully. She recalled the time they had gone to dinner at the North Woods Inn. He'd ordered a steak and she would have sworn he ate it. She knew better now. He toyed with the food on his plate, but never really ate anything. Yet she knew that if she were to ask her parents about it later, they would assure her that he'd eaten a full meal.
Talk at the table was polite and restrained at first, but gradually everyone relaxed. They talked about the wedding; then Jack and Marge told about their wedding, and