Welcome to the family

(Mira) I made it through the rest of my shift without thinking too much about Ridge watching me, or at least I tried not to think about it, because every time I walked past the bar I could feel his eyes on me, not in a creepy way but more like he was trying to figure something out. Good luck with that because I barely had myself figured out. By the time eleven o'clock rolled around my feet hurt and I smelled like beer and fried food, and Hank counted out my tips and handed me sixty three dollars in cash which wasn't bad for a Thursday night. "You're doing good," he said. "Keep it up and you'll make decent money here." I headed upstairs, locked my door, and collapsed on the bed. My phone was still off and I'd been checking it every few hours, turning it on just long enough to see if Tyler had tried to call again, but so far nothing new, and I turned it off again and closed my eyes and sleep came fast. The next morning someone knocked on my door and for one second I thought it was Tyler and my heart went crazy before I remembered where I was. It was Harlow, Ridge's sister, standing there holding two coffee cups and a paper bag with donuts inside, walking in without waiting for permission the way people did when they'd already decided they were coming in regardless. "I brought breakfast," she said, setting everything on the dresser. "Hope you like donuts." "You didn't have to do that." "I know. But I wanted to." She handed me a coffee and sat on the edge of my bed like we'd known each other for years. "Black, right? You seem like a black coffee person." She was right but I didn't tell her that. She apologized for bombarding me with questions the night before and said she got excited when someone new came to town, which didn't happen often because Crosswell was tiny and boring, and then before I could respond she told me her mom was having a family dinner that night and wanted Ridge to bring someone. "He's probably going to ask you," she said, pulling a chocolate glazed donut from the bag. "Why would he ask me?" "Because you're new and interesting and my mom's been on his case about dating for like two years. She thinks he works too much." Harlow grinned. "Don't worry, it's not a real date or anything. She just wants to meet you. Free food, and my mom's an amazing cook. She does this thing with chicken that will change your life." "I barely know Ridge." "That's the point." She finished her donut and stood up. "Just think about it okay? Ridge will probably ask you later anyway. And if he doesn't I'll drag you there myself." She left before I could argue and I sat there eating a donut and thinking about it more than I should have for something I was planning to say no to. Ridge showed up at the bar around five while I was wiping down tables and asked if he had a minute and I said sure, and he looked uncomfortable which was strange because Ridge didn't seem like the type to get uncomfortable about anything. He confirmed what Harlow had already told me, that his mom wanted him to bring someone to dinner and Harlow had suggested me, and he delivered it the same way he delivered most things, which was directly and without apology. "It's not really my thing," I said. "Fair enough. Just thought I'd ask." He started to walk away and then stopped. "But my mom makes really good food and Harlow won't shut up about you if you don't show up. She'll probably come here every day until you say yes." The smart thing would have been to say no, keep my head down, work my shifts, save my money, and leave when I was ready, but I was tired of being alone and maybe just for one night I could pretend things were normal. "Okay," I said. "I'll come." He looked surprised. "Yeah?" "Yeah. But I don't have anything nice to wear." "I can get something from one of the old ladies. Cassidy's about your size." He stepped closer when I started to protest, not threatening but enough that I had to look up to meet his eyes, and he said let me help you in that tone he used when something wasn't actually a question, and my stomach did something I wasn't going to think about. At six, Cassidy showed up with a dark blue dress, simple with long sleeves and a hem just above the knee, and told me to keep it because she had a closet full of things she never wore. I changed and brushed my hair and put on what little makeup I had, and when I looked in the mirror I almost didn't recognize myself. Harlow had been right about one thing from the night before when she'd said Mira was short for something. It was Mirabelle, my grandmother's name, but I'd stopped using it years ago because Tyler had always called me Mirabelle, drawing it out like he was tasting it, and my parents called me Belle, and Mira felt like mine, something clean and separate from all of that. Ridge was waiting by the door at six thirty in dark jeans and a black button down shirt with his vest left behind, which made him look different, less like a biker and more like a regular person, and he looked me over when I walked up and said I looked good and I told him he did too and his mouth almost curved into a smile before he asked if I was ready. His parents' house sat on the edge of town, sprawling with too many rooms and a view of the mountains, and I looked at it through the windshield trying to decide if I could still back out before he told me his mom was going to ask a lot of questions but I didn't have to answer any I didn't want to. "Is that what you tell all the girls you bring home?" I asked. "I don't bring girls home." "Ever?" "Not in a long time." That made me more nervous, not less, and I got out of the truck before he could say anything else. His mother opened the door before we reached it, standing there in an apron with her hair pulled back and a smile like I was exactly who she'd been waiting for, and she hugged me before we were properly introduced and told me to call her Claire and pulled us both inside where the house smelled like roasted chicken and garlic. His father Victor was tall and gray haired and still built like someone who could handle himself, and he shook my hand and said Ridge never brought anyone around so I must be special, which made Ridge say dad in that flat tone people used when they wanted someone to stop talking. Dinner was exactly what I'd expected, Claire asking questions I answered without really answering, where I was from and whether I had family nearby and what brought me to Crosswell, and Harlow kept trying to change the subject while Victor laughed and told her to leave me alone. After dinner Harlow pulled me into the kitchen under the pretense of helping with dessert, and Victor took Ridge onto the back porch and I watched them through the window talking in the way fathers and sons talked when they thought nobody was paying attention. The rest of the evening was easier, pie and coffee and Victor telling stories about Ridge and Harlow as kids that made me smile more than I'd smiled in months, and Claire watched me the whole time with that particular look mothers had when they were deciding something without saying it out loud. When we left she hugged me goodbye and said I was always welcome, and I told her thank you and meant it in a way that surprised me. In the truck on the way back I was quiet and so was Ridge until I said thanks for inviting me and that I hadn't realized how much I missed normal until tonight, and he said I could come back anytime and that his mom had meant it. When we got back to The Spoke he walked me to the door and I paused before going in and asked him why he was helping me, because I'd been wondering since the highway and still didn't have an answer I believed. "Because you need it," he said. "That's not a reason." "It's the only one I've got." I looked at him for a long moment trying to figure out if he was lying and then I nodded and went inside, and I heard his truck pull away a few minutes later while I was sitting on the edge of my bed in Cassidy's blue dress thinking about chicken and family dinners and a man who pulled over on highways for strangers and called it the only reason he had.