Fitz and I begin the process of removing our layers as a couple walks into the room, dressed casually in jeans and sweatshirts.
“Mom, Dad, this is Harper and Maxwell.”
Danny’s dad smiles and it’s apparent where he inherited his dimples. The two look so similar it’s a little shocking. Danny’s smile is a little wider, his shoulders broader, and his hair is a lighter shade of brown, but other than that, the two are a matching set.
He steps forward, shaking Fitz’s hand and then mine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m Daniel, and this is my lovely wife, Diane,” he says, waving a hand to Danny’s mom, who steps forward and rather than shaking our hands, hugs each of us. It’s a gesture that used to be second nature to me, and yet currently has me reaching to recall the movements.
As she pulls back, her hands clutch mine, and she smiles at me. Her lips go a little higher on the right side of her face, making her smile slightly crooked. I find the detail to be similar to Danny’s slanted bottom teeth that catch my attention when he smiles—a perfect imperfection. Diane’s dark blond hair is pulled back in a clip that several strands have managed to evade, and she seems completely unconcerned over the fact. She’s tall and a little on the heavy side, but carries herself with confidence, adding to her beauty.
“The girls will be down in just a moment. They were really excited to hear that you have four sisters yourself, Harper. But don’t ask if their names are Donna or Debbie, or anything else with a D. They don’t seem to find the humor in that these days.”
“It’s never been funny, Dad,” Danny says, shaking his head.
Danny’s family is warm and inviting and brings a sense of familiarity that has been lost to me for nearly a year. I loved meeting Fitz’s family, but Danny’s is a similar size to my own and filled with a familiar sense of love and acceptance. I laugh at the jokes about having sisters and share my own stories about growing up with such a large family.
Although Fitz only agreed to come along after I had threatened to request a transfer at work, I can tell that he’s enjoying himself. Diane is so warm and friendly that I’m pretty sure she could make a mime speak, and Daniel cooks what are quite possibly the best barbecued ribs, chicken, and vegetables I’ve ever had.
After dinner, we gather around the living room. We talk as a football game quietly plays in the background, occasionally distracting one or more of the guys, and his oldest sister, Paige, who seems to have more interest in the outcome than any of the others.
“Danny mentioned that you’re going to school to be a doctor,” Diane says, leaning forward in her seat as a cheer is directed to the screen.
“I’m going to be applying for medical school to get my doctorate, but it won’t be to actually see patients. I’m going into the research side.”
“That’s amazing!” Her blue eyes remain focused on mine as she smiles proudly. “I consider going back to practice someday. I was a pediatric medical assistant until we moved out here. It’s hard. I enjoy staying home, but I miss it.”
“You miss the babies,” Daniel says. “You just need Danny to make some grandbabies and then you’ll be happy.”
“Danny needs to move out if he wants to make some babies. No girl is going to marry him living here. Huh, Harper?” Danny’s sister Addison asks.
I feel my cheeks heat as Danny’s youngest sister, Grace, turns to see my response.
“Oh stop,” Diane intervenes. “When Danny’s ready to take that step he will.” I’m not positive if she’s referring to babies or moving out, but don’t delve into either possibility. Thankfully, Grace is more interested in where I got my jeans than she is in what will be two of her brother’s biggest decisions in life.
A few weeks later, February is about to end and I find myself staring at a vase of white orchids that were delivered moments ago. Each bloom is so perfect I have to brush one of the petals with my finger and thumb to verify they’re real. They are breathtaking—but they aren’t peonies.
“What are those?” Fitz asks in a sing-song voice, startling me from my trance. “Oh, Danny did good.”
I haven’t opened the card to confirm they’re from Danny, but we both seem to know that’s who they’re from.
“What did the card say?”
“I haven’t read it yet. They just got here.”
Fitz’s eyebrows rise to show his disbelief in my delay, then slides the vase closer to me.
I fish through several stems to reach the card and pull it from the small plastic bracket.
Harper,
Please, for the love of my record, come to my match Saturday.
Otherwise, I’ll be too distracted wondering what you’re doing.
My victory depends on you—no pressure. ;)
Love,
Danny
“That good?”
I slide the two tickets between my thumb and forefinger so Fitz can see them.
“Harper, do you realize how great these seats are? We’re going to be able to smell their sweat!”
My nose crinkles at the thought, and I drop my hand holding the tickets to the table. “Fitz, this is edging dangerously close to dating. I’ve hung out with him like five times in two weeks. Two of them … by myself.” I enunciate my last words since Fitz had called last minute to cancel on both occasions, claiming things had “come up.”
“Oh, come on! I’ll buy you a cotton candy!” Fitz pleads, palming the two tickets that are addressed to each of us.
“Fitz, I’m not ready to date. That one kiss about broke me. I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Hurt him? Wait until you see how tough he is, then you won’t be nearly so concerned.”
“Hardy har har,” I reply sarcastically.
“And not to hurt your feelings, babe, but he’s pretty well known—if that little scene at the bar was any indication for you. I don’t mean to sound chauvinistic, but there are a lot of women that voluntarily throw themselves at Danny.” I find Fitz’s words to be far more comforting than hurtful as I finally agree to go.
The match is apparently a pretty big deal, though it’s untelevised. Danny moved from amateur to professional boxing, and he’s admitted to me that he’s still feeling a bit out of his element.
People are going crazy by the time the match starts, screaming obscenities that make no sense, and are filled with rage. It has me feeling a little uneasy. Fitz sits beside me, undeterred as he looks up the stats on Danny’s opponent, Theo Duvall, more commonly known in the arena as Midnight Assassin.
“These nicknames are ridiculous,” I comment, reading a list of competitors that the Midnight Assassin has already defeated. “What’s Danny’s name?”
Fitz’s eyes dance as he looks at me with obvious amusement. “Double D.”
My eyes roll to the ceiling. “Oh my God, that’s even worse,” I cry, clasping a hand to my forehead. “Double D? Are you serious?”
“Harper! Fitz!”
My tirade on how unbelievably stupid and sexist I find Danny’s nickname falls short as I turn to see Daniel approaching, wearing a smile as though the match is already over and Danny had been claimed the victor.
“Hey, guys! Danny will be upset I didn’t catch you sooner. He wanted to see you before the match started. He’s getting stretched right now and trying to focus. I’ll let him know that you’re here, but things are about to get started so we’ll have to wait until it’s over to bring you back. Here,” he says, handing both of us a small tote. “This whole match has been kind of a mess. These were supposed to come sooner, but this place is under new management. There are backstage passes for after the match, some water and drink vouchers, and some other stuff.”