“There’s my girl!” the loud booming voice of my father greets me as I step into the dining room, Justin tucked behind me and his hands immediately drop from my hips.

“Daddy!” I exclaim and I’m ten years old, running into his arms after he’d been gone on a long business trip.

He’s just slightly taller than me, his body thin but warm as I hug him tight, the smell of pipe tobacco and talcum powder invading my senses. I pull back and he holds me at arms length looking me over thoroughly. I bite my lip, suddenly wondering if my sweater is severely rumpled from mine and Justin’s roll in bed.

“Where’s my little girl?” he exclaims brightly and I grin at him. “I could have sworn the last time I saw you, you had pigtails.”

I dip my head, blushing and smiling under my father’s attention. His eyes flit past me and he stands a little straighter. I look back to see Justin standing in the doorway to the living room, his face pulled into a pleasant expression but nervousness shows in his eyes.

“And who is this young man?”

“Daddy, this is Justin,” I say, holding my hand out to him and Justin steps forward taking it and nodding at my father.

“Honor to meet you Mr. McKibbons,” he says, his voice low, his shoulders back and he’s standing tall, stretching every inch of his six foot one frame to its full height.

“Ah, Justin…” my father says, nodding and shaking Justin’s hand firmly. “My wife says Skylar talks about you constantly.”

“Dad!” I exclaim blushing.

“Oh, did I botch this already?” my father teases me, letting go of Justin’s hand and smiling at me. “I’ve never done this before. What is the proper thing to say to the first boy your little girl brings home?”

My face is on fire as Justin turns to me smirking and I wish the floor would swallow me whole.

“Oh Jim stop!” my mother exclaims, rescuing me in only the way mothers can. “Dinner’s getting cold.”

We move into the dining room and I see that we’re eating off of my great grandmother’s wedding china, reserved only for the most special of occasions. I can only remember eating on it once in my entire life and that was when my father had gotten his promotion from District Manager to Regional Director when I was fourteen. I grin, squeezing Justin’s hand in mine before letting go taking my usual chair closest to the door. My father moves to his chair in front of the china cabinet and my mother moves around the table to take her usual seat closest to the kitchen. Justin sidles around taking the empty chair in front of the window.

I take a look at the spread before us, fried pork chops and mashed potatoes and corn. The salad is in the crystal salad dish instead of the usual plastic tupperware container. Slices of bread are fanned out neatly on a serving plate instead of one of us having just tossed the bag on the table for consumption. My eyes flit to my mother and she smiles at me, her eyes a little nervous, wondering if all of this is satisfactory and I smile warmly at her. It’s more than I could have ever hoped for.

“Well, lets bless this mess,” my mother says with a sigh and her eyes fall on Justin. “Would you like to say the prayer, Justin?”

I tense my eyes falling to my lap. Justin has a quiet faith, the kind he rarely advertises and while I know he prays he never does it aloud. When I look up at him, fully prepared to save him, he’s smiling and pulling his arms from underneath the table to reach for mine and my mother’s hands.

“I’d love to,” he says and I grasp his hand and my mother does the same, our other hands reaching to my father who takes them and we are joined as we bow our heads. “Father God,” Justin begins and clears his throat slightly before going on, “Thank You for giving us safe travels today and for bringing me here to meet Skylar’s family.” I squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. “I thank You for all that You’ve given us, Lord, especially for this meal and please let it nourish our bodies as You nourish our hearts and bless the hands that prepared it. In Your name we pray, Amen.”

We all pull our heads up and let go, but I wait a beat, running my thumb along Justin’s knuckles before releasing him and we begin to pass the food around chatting easily, Justin charming my mother into giggles, my father watching bemusedly from the head of the table.

“So, Justin,” my father says as our laughter quiets and we’re tucking into our food. “Viv tells me you’re a musician?”

Justin jaw works slowly over the food in his mouth as he nods and when he swallows he says, “Yes.”

“Good money in that?” my father asks and I cringe.

“It’s not bad,” Justin replies, smiling slightly and my father grins.

“What kind of music?” he asks and I wonder if he’s ever heard Justin’s music before. I seriously doubt it since the only thing he listens to is talk-radio and a few old Johnny Cash records.

Justin takes a drink of his water. “Oh all kinds. Pop mostly. Some R&B…electronica, it really just depends on the vibe of the session.”

“Vibe huh?” my father says, his eyes cutting to me mischievously. “You’re younger than Sky yes?”

I nearly choke on my food, swallowing hard and Justin shifts in his chair. “A little, yeah.”

“Dad,” I say, dipping me head and he smirks at me.

“Oh Jim stop,” my mother sighs, rescuing me again and I love her more than I ever have before.

“Pop music huh?” my dad says, pushing us back into something a little more neutral. “Like that dancing in unison malarkey?”

Justin laughs openly. “Yeah I used to do that,” he grins good naturedly, “Now it’s more of a choreographed freestyle. Which I guess is an oxymoron.” He chuckles at himself and I beam at him.

“A what?” my father asks, quirking an eyebrow at Justin, leaning a little into the table and Justin swallows the bite he just took.

“An oxymoron? Like combining two contradictory words-”

“No, I know what an oxymoron is,” my father says, smiling slightly and Justin shuts up immediately his face pinkening. I wish I could reach for his hand. “I mean this dance business.”

“Oh it’s just…um…” Come on Jus baby you can do it. His face changes and his mask slips on. Interview mode. “It’s just free you know, but we still have the dancers so we have to have some kind of order.”

“Dancers?” my father asks and Justin nods.

“Yeah, like on the last tour we had nine dancers and we would all be doing things on different parts of the stage but it was all somewhat unified.”

“Uh huh,” my father says, eyeing Justin warily and his eyes flit to me and my heart drops a little.

His eyes are questioning and I know he’s wondering what the hell I’m doing with this kid. His eyes say “a dancer Skylar? Really?” and I look down at my lap. I really wanted them to get along. I wanted them to sit on the front porch and talk about sports and play golf together. My chest lightens.

“Daddy, Justin loves golf,” I say suddenly and both men look at me as if I have just spoken in tongues.

“Yeah,” Justin says looking at me and smiling a little. “I do. Do you play, sir?”

“I’ve played a little in my time,” my father says, leaning back and pushing his empty plate forward which cues my mother to stand and take his plate along with hers into the kitchen.

“Are there many good courses around here?” Justin asks, adding more mashed potatoes to his plate and shoveling them into his mouth in that way he does when food tastes good to him. I grin.

“We’ve got a pretty nice club the next town over,” my father says. “What’s your handicap?”

“Um I think I’m around a six now,” Justin says hanging his head slightly.

My father’s eyebrows raise. “Really?”

Justin nods. “Yeah I was at four at one point but I’ve just been so busy. Haven’t had that much time on the links.”

They launch into a conversation on golf courses, Justin telling my father about the different courses he’s played, my father asking questions occasionally and regaling Justin with his tale of how he once got a hole in one. Justin listens, seemingly enthralled, watching my father with admiration. It’s all I can do to keep from grinning like an idiot. This leads into talk about the perfect golf clubs and the right form and when Justin finally finds a way to slip in that he shot a 98 at Torrey Pines I can see my father coming around slowly.

“Are you finished, honey?” my mother asks, returning from the kitchen and reaching for Justin’s plate.

“Oh, yes ma’am,” he says, sitting back and allowing her to take it from him. “Do you need some help? I can-”

“Oh hush,” my mother says, patting him on the shoulder and I grin.

“I’ll help, Mom,” I say, standing now that I know things are going better between the men at the table.

“Are you sure?” Justin asks, looking from me to my mother. “Because I can-”

“You don’t move a muscle,” my mother scolds lightly and Justin looks down in concession.

I smile, running a hand across his shoulders as I pass behind him enroute to the kitchen. He cranes his neck to watch me and I can feel his eyes on me as I pass. My father is standing from the table and opening the bottom cabinet of the large curio behind him.

“What’s your drink of choice, Justin?” he asks and I stop in the doorway to the kitchen. I know where this is going.

“Jack Daniels,” Justin says, nodding his head, puffing his chest out slightly and I fight my grin.

“Jack Daniels!” my father exclaims, “that sissy stuff?”

I cringe and Justin just blinks back at him. It’s a challenge. I know this because this is how my father is. He pushes and prods, trying to get a rise out of you, testing your breaking point. Justin clears his throat nervously before his mask comes up again.

“Well, it’s the drink of choice in Tennessee,” he grins good naturedly and shrugs. “I grew up on it.” My father raises an eyebrow and Justin’s smile fades. “Not that I drink a lot…or at a young age…I mean…”

His ears turn red and he looks away. I open my mouth to save him but my father speaks first.

“Well, come here and have a glass of this,” my father says and I see him setting a dusty bottle on the table, the liquid inside clear and ominous and I know what that is.

“Dad, Justin doesn’t want that,” I say as Justin stands and rounds the table to stand next to my father.

“Skylar, go get me some glasses from the kitchen,” he replies uncorking the bottle.

“Justin,” I say and he gives me a slight shake of his head, his eyes telling me to shut up and let him do this.

I sigh, trudging into the kitchen and setting my plate on the counter next to the sink where my mother is washing them by hand before putting them in the dishwasher. I have tried to explain that this is unnecessary but she doesn’t listen. I sigh, opening the cabinet and pulling out two tumblers.

“How’s it going in there?” my mother asks and I sigh.

“Pissing contest,” I reply and my mother laughs.

“His baby girl won’t be taken without a fight,” she responds.

I stop to look at her and she hasn’t even turned, her back still to me, washing the dishes diligently. They say there’s a time in every girls life when you realize you’re mother is a genius and I think this moment is mine. I never really thought about it in terms of losing but in terms of gaining. My father isn’t losing me to Justin. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here waiting on the porch for him. Just now I won’t be doing it alone.

I step back into the dining room and my father is explaining the concept of making moonshine.

“…and then they run it through the still again…Ah there’s my girl,” he says holding out his hand and I give him a hard look.

He takes the glasses and fills them until they are about a quarter full and I fold my arms across my chest. My father hands one to Justin who takes it, swirling his glass and eying the liquid inside. I want to tell them to just stop this because I know what’s in that glass. My father gave me some in high school after I had stumbled in drunk from a party. I didn’t drink again until I was in college.

“Cheers,” my father says, clinking his glass with Justin’s, who nods his head before they both toss the drink back.

My father comes back up smacking his lips and he eyes Justin who struggles to swallow, his face white, sweat breaking out across his forehead. He coughs a little, pushing air out of his lungs the best he can, knowing the second he inhales he’s going to hack and sputter. He breathes in through his nose and puts his hand to his mouth and tries to mask his cough as he shakes his head from side to side.

My father claps him on the back, grinning widely. It seems Justin has finally made it into his good graces. I roll my eyes. Boys and their games. My mother scuttles in from the kitchen, grabbing more plates from the table. She straightens when she sees the bottle on the table.

“Jim, what are you doing to the poor boy,” my mother scolds and my father grins.

“I was just showing him what good whiskey is, Viv,” he replies and my mother gives him a stern look. “He took it well,” my father adds, patting Justin’s shoulder. “No chaser or anything.”

Justin is holding onto the table, looking very green and I itch to go to him and touch his face.

“Skylar, get him a glass of water before he passes out on the rug,” my mother says and I nod turning to go into the kitchen.

“No,” Justin says, his voice a low croak in his throat and I stop turning to him. “I’m fine,” he says forcing a smile at me. “I’m good.”

He clears his throat, swallowing hard and my father beams at him.

“See, he’s fine,” my father says and my mother shakes her head, handing me dishes and I take them, watching Justin blink hard and breathe through his nose and out his mouth slowly.

We’re back in the kitchen, setting the dishes on the counter when the phone rings. My mother wipes her hands on a dishtowel before going to pick up the extension that’s attached to the wall. I grab a glass and fill it with water, shuffling back into the dining room where my father and Justin are back to sitting at the table, Justin now in my seat still looking a little shell shocked. I move around the table, taking a sip from the glass as I do so and set it on the table at his elbow when I reach for one of the serving bowls on the table.

“I don’t need water, Sky,” Justin says, cutting his eyes at me. “I’m fine.”

“I know,” I say, nodding innocently at him. “That’s my water. You can’t have any.”

He smirks at me and I grin back. This doesn’t go unnoticed by my father who eyes us bemusedly.

“Jim?” my mother’s voice calls from the kitchen, her head peeking around the doorframe. “Phone for you.”

My father sighs, pulling himself up from his chair and ambling into the kitchen, both my parents disappearing into the room. I set the dishes in my hand back down on the table and walk back around the table, picking up the glass of water taking a small sip. Justin looks up at me and I grin, holding the glass out to him. He snatches it from me and downs it in one gulp, setting the glass down, his hand going to his chest as he swallows, a small derisive sound pulling from his throat. I bend down and kiss his ear, my arms snaking around his neck as I nuzzle his cheek gently.

“Feel better?” I ask and he cuts his eyes at me, glaring playfully.

“Shut up.”

“You’re a big strong man, Jus,” I giggle, nibbling at his earlobe and he tugs away from me, pouting slightly. “You sure showed him.”

“Yeah, I did,” he replies and his eyes turn dark as he looks at me. “I’m gonna show you, too… later.”

My jaw drops and he smirks at me, causing me to swat at his shoulder as my mother re-enters the room. She eyes us knowingly, reaching onto the table for the dishes and I duck my head, collecting silverware. Justin stands too, wobbling slightly but I don’t think my mother notices. He begins to gather dishes as well, politely ignoring my mother’s insistence that he stop. Between the three of us we gather the rest of the dishes in one trip, depositing them on the counter.

“Justin, go sit down,” my mother scolds and Justin just smiles at her.

“Now you just made me one of the best meals I’ve ever had. I’m not about to let you do the dishes,” he replies, a charming lilt in his voice that makes my mother blush. “You go on, now. Sky and I have got this,” he says, picking up a dish and turning to the sink and the matter is settled.

“…all right. Okay. Bye now,” my father finishes, and hangs up the phone with a sigh. I look back at him, as I scrub at a dish, Justin waiting patiently for me to finish so he can rinse it and put it in the dishwasher. “Justin, why don’t you come back into the den?”

Justin looks back at my father and then to me, a slightly unsure look on his face. My father grins and tilts his head backward in a beckoning gesture before disappearing back into the dining room. Justin dries his hands quickly before following, pausing to press a kiss to my cheek and then trotting after my father. I giggle slightly before turning back to the dishes. My mother sidles up next to me, taking Justin’s place, taking the dishes from me and rinsing them before putting them in the dishwasher.

“Who was on the phone?” I ask and my mother doesn’t respond right away, her mouth pressed into a line.

“Just Carl,” she responds after a moment and my stomach drops at the mention of my father’s boss.

“What did he want?” I ask, trying to sound unaffected.

“Oh you know,” my mother, says waving a hand before taking another plate from me. “The FDA may approve this new drug sometime soon.”

“Not this week though?” I ask, knowing what this would mean. “Dad has the week off.”

“Yes,” my mother says slowly, “He asked for this week off, but you know how these things are, Skylar.”

“He’s not leaving is he?” I ask, slight panic in my voice. He can’t leave. We have so much still to do. We’ve barely been here three hours and he’s already leaving.

“Well, he’ll certainly try not to,” my mother responds and I grit my teeth, not responding as anger wells inside me.

“All I asked for was one week,” I say, trying to keep my voice even but the bitterness is evident. “Just one week but he can’t even do that. I mean he’s barely met Justin-”

“Skylar,” my mother scolds and I quiet instantly. “He’s here. He’s trying. Don’t be mad at him for something that hasn’t even happened yet.”

“But it will happen,” I grumble, scrubbing viciously at a dish. “It always does.”

“Will you stop pouting,” my mother chides and I sigh. “We just made you a wonderful dinner and your father is doing everything in his power to run Justin off.” My mother chuckles. “I’d say things are going rather smoothly.”

I snort. “I can’t believe Dad fed him the moonshine.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t pass out on the carpet,” my mother replies and I nudge her with my elbow. “He’s precious, Skylar.”

I beam at her. “You like him?” I ask, even though I know she does. I just need to hear it.

“I adore him,” my mother grins, taking another plate from me. “He’s a charmer.”

I giggle. “Yeah, he is.”

“You never told me how you two got together,” my mother prods gently and I nearly drop the glass I’m washing.

“Oh…we... um…”

“Skylar what are you doing letting this woman do the dishes after the meal she just cooked,” it’s Justin’s voice from the doorway and we both turn to find him grinning as he saunters in.

“I was perilous to stop her,” I quip, sharing a smile with my mother as we both eye him.

“Vivian, I want you to go into the living room,” Justin says placing his hands on her shoulders and looking her sternly in the face. “and sit down and relax.”

My mother laughs and reaches for the towel to dry her hands. “Okay, okay.” She pats Justin’s cheek. “Such a sweet boy.” She makes her way to the doorway. “And handsome too,” she adds before disappearing down the hall. Justin dips his head in a blush.

“Your mom is great,” Justin grins, watching her leave. “I now see where you get it,” he adds, his arms slipping around my waist and hugging me back against him.

“Get what?” I grin, turning my head to try and see him better.

“Your ravishing good looks of course,” he whispers lowly, nibbling at my ear and I giggle at him.

“Oh stop,” I scold half-heartedly and he sighs, pulling his arms from around my waist and resuming his position next to me, rinsing the dishes I have washed.

“Your dad’s a trip,” he says, placing a bowl gingerly in the dishwasher.

“Oh god, what’d he do to you now?” I ask, grinning.

“Just you know…asking about my intentions,” he replies smirking and my heart stops.

“Oh my god, really?” I ask, looking at him horrified and he grins.

“Yeah,” he says, taking the last pan from me and slipping it into the dishwasher. “I just told him, you know, we have a pretty casual thing.” He nods trying to suppress his grin.

”Oh yes,” I say, the corners of my mouth turning up. “Very casual.”

“Yeah, I mean I tried to express how I’m just in it for the sex,” Justin sighs and I swat at his chest, bumping my hip with his to move him out of the way so I can start the dishwasher.

“Oh is that all?” I ask as I turn to face him, my arms crossed over my chest and he smirks, pushing me so that his hips trap mine against the counter.

“I dunno,” he sighs, licking his lips slowly. “What do you think?”

“I think you put up a big front,” I reply, my hands smoothing down his chest and back up again to rest on his broad shoulders.

“Is that so?” he asks, regarding me amusedly and I nod, one finger trailing down the middle of his chest, rubbing over the polo player embroidered on his breast pocket. “You think I…” his finger hooks under my chin, his eyes crashing into mine, “love you or some crazy mess like that?”

I grin at him nodding and he grins back, his mouth brushing mine before kissing me fully. His hands fall to my hips, squeezing gently as he presses me back harder into the counter and I push on his chest lightly, nervousness settling in my stomach at the fact that my parents are in the other room. He pulls back slightly, licking his lips.

“What you usually like it when I hoist you up on the counter,” he smirks and I blush, tracing a finger down his chest.

“My parents…” I whisper and he nods at me, still smirking.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait till later,” he grins and leans forward, his eyes mischievous as he whispers in my ear. “And there will definitely be a ‘later.’”