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As his mom flitted around the dining room, laying a three-course meal on the elaborately set table, his dad smiled and asked about Holly.
“Where do your parents live?” His demeanor was much calmer than Rhonda’s, even though he wore a suit and tie.
“Not sure, actually. I was adopted a few years ago.”
Herbert raised an eyebrow as he picked up a roll from the basket and focused on applying butter, rather than meeting her eyes. “I see. I also had a similar childhood. I think Eric’s met my parents only a few times, and most of the time, it was by accident.” His smile set her at ease.
“Herbert practically had nothing when we met in college,” Rhonda said. “If it weren’t for my parents bailing—”
Herbert placed the knife down on the plate with a loud click, and Rhonda dipped her head and nodded.
“Anyway,” Herbert said, “we understand what it’s like to come from a hard background. How about your schooling? What’s your major?”
Holly relaxed into her seat and occasionally nibbled on a roll as she talked about her child psychology major. “At first, I wanted to be a nurse, you know, help others out. But after one year of classes, I knew I couldn’t hack the amount of science and math I would need to take, and I settled for the thought of being able to help kids who were in my situation or worse.”
“Where is your scar from?” his mom asked.
The table stilled, including Holly’s hand on her roll. For the last minute, she’d been peeling off the top layer of the bread, only wanting the soft white part inside. People usually stared at her face, but most never blatantly asked about it, and certainly not after she’d mentioned her rough home life.
“Mom, that’s not something she wants to talk about.”
Holly winced as Eric stood up for her. Her story wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, but she also didn’t share it with just anybody, and definitely not her boyfriend’s mother.
“Holly, don’t feel like you need to share anything,” Eric added.
“Eric, I’m just trying to get to know her better. It’s a very obvious . . . thing about her, and knowing about it will help me be more sensitive.”
Holly doubted that.
“Rhonda,” Eric’s dad said, “please have a little more tact. I’m sorry, Holly. Rhonda is wonderful and caring, but she can be abrasive when you first meet.”
Rhonda huffed and looked up at the ceiling. “It seems I’m the one under attack at this dinner, not her.”
Holly’s stomach twisted with the small amount of food she’d forced down during the conversation. “It’s fine.” Actually, it wasn’t, but maybe if she told some of the story, Rhonda would leave her alone. “When I was a sophomore in high school, I was cooking dinner on the stove, and my dad—” She paused. Not even Eric knew her whole story. “My dad started a grease fire, and I caught on fire.”
It was a horrifically long few seconds while she waited for someone to say something—anything. But Eric was the only one who moved. He slipped one hand under the table and took hers.
“That’s horrible,” Herbert said. “We’re sorry you’ve been through something so traumatic, especially so early in life.”
Holly nodded. She had expected his dad to comment first. “Thank you. After over a dozen major and minor surgeries, I still look like this. Maybe in one of the future surgeries, I can look a little less scary.” She bit her lip, immediately feeling bad for her self-pity.
“More than a hundred?” His mother gave an exasperated sigh. “And there will be even more surgeries?”
“I think you’re gorgeous,” Eric said, squeezing her fingers. He took one glance at her full plate and frowned. “Are you done eating?”
Eric had piled his food high, and it was already gone. Her stomach moaned in protest at the small amount she’d eaten on an empty stomach. “Yes.”
“Your face looks a little pale. Remember where my room is? Why don’t you go lie down while I catch up with my parents?”
Holly stood and nodded—all numb, robotic actions. So, this was what complete humiliation felt like. When she tried to take her plate to the sink, Eric grabbed it. “I’ve got it. Just go. You look ready to drop.”
She headed for the stairs, but when she heard Eric’s voice, she paused at the top of the stairs and hid around the corner.
“Mom, what was that? You were like some invasive momma bear.”
Dishes clattered and water started. Holly had effectively ended everyone’s meal.
“Aren’t I supposed to know the girl my son dates? I mean, this is the one you left Christmas break to see. If you didn’t have the decency to return my calls or texts, how can I trust you’ll keep in touch now that you’re dating her?”
