Page 110 of Her Hidden Smile

I couldn’t hear what she had to say.

“That’d be good.”

He hung up the phone and turned back to me. “We’re going to go check into our hotel and then come back to the house.”

“Wait. I don’t want them to change things just because I’m here. That’s not fair,” I protested.

“Gustavo’s house is less than a mile away. Then there’s Polly’s and Duke’s. Both of them have swimming pools. Everybody will be more than happy to expend some energy elsewhere before coming back over to mom and dads for dinner.”

“Are you sure?”

He reached over and grabbed my hand. “I’m sure.”

When we got back to his parent’s house forty minutes later, there were three cars in the driveway. I couldn’t tell which cars parked in the street belonged to the Drakos household. The garage door was up, so that was how we entered the house. Renzo didn’t even knock, he just opened the garage door and walked into the kitchen.

“We’re here!”

“Good, I need help peeling potatoes.” I recognized Sharon Drakos’ voice and grinned.

“Bring Millie in and let us meet her,” somebody said.

At least it was just one voice, and not a dozen. What’s more, it sounded friendly. I held onto Renzo’s hand really tightly as he pulled me into the kitchen.

He bent and kissed the woman, who was washing her hands off at the sink.

“Mom, this is Millie.”

“Millie!” She came over and hugged me, and I fell into her embrace. She felt like a mom. Even better than Little Grandma. Not as good as my mom, but so very close.

“Mrs. Drakos—” I started.

“You call me Sharon, or you call me Mom. Those are your two choices.”

“Okay, Sharon. Thank you for all of your help. I’m so excited to be here.”

I watched Renzo as the penny dropped.

“How come I’m thinking my two favorite women in the world have been collaborating behind my back?”

“Because you’re not dumb,” a handsome man said as he came up behind Renzo and wrapped his arm around his back.

“Dad,” Renzo smiled. “This is Millie Randolph. Have you two been conspiring?” he asked me.

“Nope. Just me and your mom.”

The older man had eyes that looked like Renzo’s. Very dark, wise and kind. He held out his hand, and I took it. “Millie, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too, Mr.—”

“Call me Christos.”

“Okay Christos. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Where is she?” a woman yelled. “I want to meet her. Get out of my way, you big oaf.”

“Don’t go in there guns blazing. Show some decorum.”

I giggled.