Sign Me Up by Dulcie Dameron
Jamie
into the collar of my fur-lined jacket to stave off the cold chill in the air as I wait for someone to answer the door. It wasn’t hard to find Parker’s parents’ house once I typed the address into good ol’ Google maps.
The dark brick ranch home is nestled into a cluster of trees, surrounded by similar homes and properties, but this one stands out with its meticulously landscaped front yard, complete with large planters full of yellow and orange mums. The home embodies Midwestern charm, and I can’t help but smile thinking of Parker growing up here. It suits him perfectly.
A loud feminine voice sounds from the other side of the door just before it swings open wide, revealing a shoeless Parker with his tie gone, work shirt unbuttoned and showing off the Superman tee underneath. I’ve seen him in different outfits over the past year, usually his work clothes, but something about the carefree way these hang on him now makes me jealous of anyone else who might get to see him this way.
A hesitant smile lifts his lips as he wedges himself in between the door and the doorjamb.
“Can I…come in?” I ask, letting out a nervous laugh.
“Parker! Move!” The heavily accented feminine voice echoes in the foyer behind Parker just before small, tanned hands yank him backward and open the door wider.
“Jamie!” the little woman cries, holding her arms out to me, fingers wiggling like she can’t wait to get a hold of me.
“Uh, hi. You must be Parker’s mom.” I slide my gaze to Parker, who looks completely mortified. He’s covering his face with both hands, head hanging back. Before I can make eye contact with his mom again, she throws her arms around me and squeezes tight.
“It’s so good to finally meet you, fata. I’m Alexandra, but you can call me Alex,” she says loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear, then lowering her voice considerably, she whispers, “You’re even prettier in person.” I smile at the curious compliment, but then she runs a hand over my hair in such a motherly way, it brings a sudden tickle to my eyes.
“Come in, come in!” Waving me forward, she beckons me into the house and removes my jacket. “I hope you’re hungry because I made stuffed peppers.” Her dark curly hair bounces around her shoulders as the gap in the center of her teeth winks at me.
I almost laugh out loud when she hands my jacket to Parker with a disapproving look, then says, “Hang that up, will you?”
As if he’s not even there, she loops her arm through mine and pulls me down the short hall into the large open concept kitchen/dining space. I hear football on the TV from the room across the hall, but don’t have time to even turn my head in that direction before she’s lifting the lid on a cast iron pot and shoving a spoon laden with something savory in my face.
“Here. Try this.” Her bright brown eyes gleam as she taps the spoon against my lips. I obey, because what else can I do, and savor the blend of spices that dance in my mouth once the seasoned meat hits my tongue. “These are my special meatballs. They go with the peppers.”
“They’re amazing,” I say, bringing a hand to my mouth. Her responding grin tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing in the kitchen.
“I know. It’s a recipe that’s been passed down through many generations of my family. Of course, I tweaked it a little.” She pinches her fingers together, driving home her point. I’m not sure if it’s because Parker is deaf that she mostly talks with her hands or if that’s just unique to her, but either way, it’s adorable.
At that exact moment, Parker enters the room with an uncomfortable look on his face.
“Parker,” Alex scolds while swiftly signing with her hands. “The picture you showed me does not do Jamie justice. She’s frumos, minunat.” One dark eyebrow raises over her chocolate eyes as she tilts her chin up in a defiant gesture.
I’m not sure what those two words mean, but I’m completely stuck on the fact that Parker SHOWED HIS MOM MY PICTURE.
Parker’s mouth flattens as he responds wildly with his hands, too fast for me to even begin to guess what he’s saying, then he takes my hand and tugs me back toward the hallway.
“Okay, but dinner will be ready in five minutes! Don’t go far!” Alex calls as we exit the kitchen and head toward where I heard the TV earlier. I want to ask Parker what he said to his mom, but before I can, we’re standing in front of a man who I assume is his dad and a younger guy who looks just like him.
Parker motions to me, then introduces me to his dad, Paul, and his brother, Logan. “It’s nice to meet you both,” I say with a smile. His dad hits the lever on the side of his recliner and gets to his feet to take my hand.
“The pleasure is ours, Jamie. It’s not every day that Parker brings a girl home.” He winks at Parker who seems to be doing everything he can to avoid eye contact with me while Logan chuckles under his breath.
“Sorry, bro. I tried.” Logan shrugs, then directs his attention back to the game.
Parker taps my arm, finally meeting my eyes, and signs, I tried to tell them we just work together, but they’re… He pauses, seeming to struggle to find the right word. Pushy?
The way he winces makes me giggle. “It’s totally fine. My pops would be the same way if he were…well, you know. If he knew what was going on.” Everyone quiets at my oversharing outburst, probably not knowing how to follow that up. I scrunch my nose. This is why I avoid interaction with humans outside my small bubble of friends. I’m bad at this.
“Well, dinner should be starting soon,” Paul pipes up, running a hand over his sandy brown hair. “Why don’t you show Jamie your old room while we wait?”
Parker eyes his dad, then me. As if it takes all his strength to give in, he lets out a heavy breath and tips his head back toward the hall. We go left this time instead of toward the kitchen and in moments I’m faced with a door that has a blue sign on it that reads Parker’s Room.
I smile and point it out, but he only shakes his head as he pushes open the door, allowing me inside. It looks like a typical teenage boy space, but with a galaxy far far away type of flair. Star Wars posters line the walls, along with a few intricate drawings of characters from the movies. Instinctively, I move closer to inspect them and I’m awed by Parker’s talent.
I turn so he can read my lips. “When did you draw these?”
He hikes a shoulder in the most nonchalant way before answering. In high school.
I playfully shove his shoulder with a smile. “You’ve been holding out on me, Parker Kent. These are impressive.”
The barest of smiles appears on his face as he moves in closer, erasing some of the distance between us. I think you’re impressive, he signs. I don’t care what Stefan says, you were so great with those kids today.
My breath catches at the flirty way he lifts an eyebrow just before he brushes back the hair from my shoulder. My body goes completely still at the contact. I search his eyes, questioning, when a shrill voice echoes down the hall.
“Dinner’s ready!” For such a tiny woman, Alex has an astoundingly loud voice. Oblivious to his mom’s call, Parker continues to let his gaze roam my face and something a lot like desire fills his eyes.
Or at least, I think it’s desire? It’s hard to tell, honestly. I so rarely see this kind of look from guys anymore that I’m not sure I’m reading it right. But it doesn’t make sense that he’d be looking at me that way…we’re just friends.
The door to his bedroom whips open, startling us both. “Dinner’s ready,” Alex says with a wide, toothy grin. “Didn’t know if you heard me.” She winks, then disappears down the hall and I stifle the urge to laugh.
Something like a growl sounds from Parker as he leads me back into the kitchen. This time, the other two Kent men are seated at the table with another guy I recognize as Parker’s other brother, Dane. He resembles Parker more than Logan does with darker hair that’s cropped short. He’s not as tan as Parker but has the same lighter eyes.
“Jamie,” Dane says with a friendly smile aimed my way. “It’s always good to see you.”
“Yeah, you too.”
Parker directs me toward a chair between him and Dane on the end of the table opposite from his mom. When she throws a pouty look his way, I start to wonder if his seating selection was intentional.
In seconds, the large cast iron pot from before along with another are situated in the center of the table with a bread basket to my right. It smells absolutely divine, and I resist the urge to lick my lips in anticipation, remembering how good that meatball tasted.
“Paul,” Alex says with an adoring look toward her husband. “Would you like to say grace?”
Paul nods and everyone closes their eyes as they reach out toward the person next to them. Parker grabs my hand without pretense while Dane holds his palm up in invitation with an encouraging smile. Oh. Okay, we’re doing this.
Now I know why Parker prays every day at lunch. I lower my other hand into Dane’s and close my eyes, mimicking everyone’s posture. I try to focus on the soothing sound of Paul’s voice as he prays, but all I can hone in on is the way Parker’s thumb lightly grazes my hand. Each swipe of the calloused pad sends a tingle up my arm, straight to my heart.
Why is his touch suddenly sending my body into overdrive? So many questions begin to form in my mind, and when the prayer ends, I drop Parker’s hand like it’s too hot to handle. I feel his gaze on me, but I’m not brave enough to meet his eyes after the thoughts that ran through my head moments ago.
Parker’s mom plates up everyone’s dish in the sweetest, most motherly way and the bread basket gets passed. Conversation flows between the parents and siblings and everyone signs as they speak. It’s something I’m grateful for while trying to learn ASL. Hearing the words with the signs makes it easier for me to grasp.
Dane tells a funny joke about the difference between a pilot and a pepperoni pizza, making everyone chuckle. All except for Parker who laughs with abandon. His deep, throaty laugh does something so indescribable to my insides, I don’t dare put a name to it. No one else at the table bats an eyelash, like they’re all used to the sound.
Warmth creeps to my cheeks against my will as I peer at the guy beside me.
Something feels different about tonight. I don’t know if it’s his mom’s comments or the way he touched me and called me impressive in his old bedroom, or maybe it was the way he came to my rescue while I was having a panic attack over Stefan’s disappointment earlier. Whatever it is, I’m nearly convinced there’s something tangible between us now—something that wasn’t there before.
And as Parker meets my eyes and winks, I’m not sure what to do about it. Not sure if I should do anything about it. Old memories resurface in my mind and suddenly make it hard to swallow. If I lost Parker the same way I lost Tyson, I’m not sure I could work another day at the Gazette. And if that happened, I’d not only lose my best friend but the chance to land my dream interview with Paris.
Once dinner’s over, the men linger around the table while Alex darts up to cart off the dishes. I immediately follow, not wanting her to do all the work. When I sidle up next to her, I ask, “What can I do?”
She raises her eyebrows as a slow smile spreads over her face. “Well, aren’t you a sweet surprise.” Feeling a little timid at her attention, I tuck some hair behind my ear. “I’m just clearing the table, fata,” she says. “The boys will wash the dishes and put away the food.” She nods toward where they’re all laughing and talking. “I may have made their plates, but they clean them. I’ve trained them well.”
I can’t help but smile at her feisty spirit. She’s such an unexpected breath of fresh air. In a way, her boldness reminds me of Daria, but she’s an older, wiser version with a distinctly maternal touch. Maybe it’s just that I’ve been missing a mom-type figure for so long, I crave that sort of attention, but part of me wants to move into Parker’s old room and claim her as my own.
“You go on and relax in the den,” she says, nudging me with her hip. “Parker won’t be too long.”
I glance back at the table where the men have started to rise. Parker meets my gaze with a reassuring look.
“I should probably get going,” I hedge, turning back to Alex. “I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”
“Nonsense! You will stay and relax in the den.” She swipes her hands together like the matter’s settled and scoots me toward the hall. “Off with you!”
I laugh at the insistent little woman and do as she says, wondering what it must have been like to grow up with a mom like her. I bet Parker has some great stories he could share. I park it on the large sectional couch in the den, but I’m not brave enough to switch the TV from the sports channel in a house that’s not mine, so I wait patiently for Parker.
After a few minutes, everyone comes into the den. I straighten. Parker scoots in close to my side, pressing his body against mine from hip to shoulder. His brother Dane sits on the other side of him, while Paul moves to the recliner he occupied before, tugging Alex down onto his lap. It’s such a sweet scene, I resist the urge to sigh aloud. Logan takes the other recliner and leans all the way back with his arms extended overhead.
Everyone looks so casual and comfortable, even with my presence here, that it’s impossible not to relax.
Alex picks up the remote with a flourish. “It’s time for you know what.” She sends each of the men in her family a look while she taps buttons on the remote.
Dane and Logan both let out some form of a groan while Parker just shakes his head with a smile. Turning to me, he signs, My mom is obsessed with this Turkish drama show. The episodes are long, but she’ll try to have you hooked if you stay and watch it.
I readjust my body so I’m a little more comfortable. “Sounds fun,” I sign, facing the TV.
I don’t miss the way Parker drapes his arm across the back of the couch behind me. The smell of his deodorant and something completely unique to him infiltrates my senses at rapid-fire speed. I so badly want to lean into him and take a deep inhale, but I refrain.
Because that would be weird. We’re not dating or even talking about dating. For the hundredth time, Jamie, you’re FRIENDS. And FRIENDS don’t cross over that line. You already know what happens when they do.
The show begins with some of the most beautiful actors I’ve ever seen. Alex settles into Paul with a satisfied smirk while Logan looks comfortable enough to pass out. Dane scrolls through his phone seeming uninterested and Parker watches with me.
I know he’s not a stranger to romcoms because he’s watched a few with me and Daria. But never have I been snuggled up into his side quite like this. Since knowing him, he’s never shown what I would consider a romantic interest in me. And yeah, I mean, he’s objectively hot, but because he was my coworker even before my stint with Mike, I never considered something more with him.
So why does my heart suddenly want to leap into his arms now?
Parker’s fingertips graze my arm and I flinch. He bends down to peer into my face, removing his arm from around me for a moment to sign, You’re tense. Relax. We’re just watching TV.
I try for a convincing smile, but inside I’m screaming, BUT THIS DOESN’T FEEL LIKE WE’RE ONLY WATCHING TV. I’m meeting your family and loving them and you’re sending me some weird mixed signals that I desperately want to read into but can’t because I’ve been down this road before and know that it can only end with a crash and burn type of scenario.
Of course, I don’t give voice to those thoughts as I sink further into Parker. His hand comes around my arm more fully than the last time and I rest my back against his chest.
Soon, I’m engrossed in the show that’s filled with some of the thickest romantic tension I’ve ever encountered on television. Halfway through, Logan’s fast asleep and Dane excuses himself, saying he’s going to head home, giving his mom a kiss on his way out.
I probably should leave too, but I’m too invested now. I have to see if these two beautiful people on the screen are going to kiss or not.
When Dane leaves, Alex pauses the show and hops up with more agility than a woman her age should have. “How about some snacks? Parker? Jamie?”
Popcorn? Parker signs. I nod, always up for some snackies at a time like this. Alex disappears into the hall, and I follow, wanting to help. Two minutes later, we’re carting bowls of popcorn and cold cans of soda into the den and handing them out to the guys. Well, all except for Logan.
When I go to sit on the couch, I realize Parker has taken my place, leaving me the spot with a better view of the TV without having to crane my neck to see it. Sit. He pats the spot next to him and I obey, handing him a soda. He declines the popcorn, so I clutch the bowl to my chest not at all disappointed I won’t have to share. Part of me wonders if he only suggested it for my benefit.
Alex clicks the show back on and I go to tuck my feet underneath me, but Parker grabs one of my ankles. I give him a confused look and raise a hand in question. He just smirks and stretches my legs over his lap like it’s the most normal thing in the world for me to have my feet on him.
Since when did he become my human footrest?
Then, like I’m in some sort of dream world where Parker lives to make me melt, he starts kneading the balls and arches of my foot with just the right amount of glorious pressure. I try to retract my legs, but he stops me with his surprisingly strong grip.
He holds his palms out facing each other then, tilts them up, making the sign for Let me. There’s a tenderness in his expression that is impossible to ignore. You’ve had a hard day, he signs. Let me help you relax.
A prickling sensation begins behind my eyes, but I will it away and give him a nod. He continues to knead and work on my feet while his eyes focus on the TV screen. He smiles at the appropriate times in the show, so I know my discomfort is all on me. He’s probably not reading into massaging my feet the way I am.
Maybe he just feels really bad for the way I reacted to Stefan’s lecture, and in his own touchy-feely way, he’s doing his best to be a great friend. Either way, I need to get over my reaction to him and watch the dang show.
It’s not too hard to do but when Parker hits a particularly sore spot on my foot, something between a needy whimper and a moan slips through my lips. He’s completely oblivious to the sound, thank God, but when I feel his family’s eyes on me, my head swivels in their direction.
Alex’s one eyebrow is cocked in intrigue while she holds a piece of popcorn to her upturned lips. Paul’s eyes dart around like he doesn’t know where to look as he adjusts the neckline of his sweatshirt. Even Logan is alert now, staring at the way his brother’s hands are performing magic on my feet and ankles.
With my face on fire, I slowly extricate my foot from Parker’s grasp and worried lines form between his brows. “That’s enough,” I say as well as sign. “I’m all good.” I try for a convincing smile, but he looks skeptical.
Ignoring him and his family, I raise my gaze to the TV and try not to hide in complete mortification. I want nothing more than to sink beneath the couch cushions and disappear until the end of time.