The dinner was surprisingly uneventful.
After he asked Cronan for his last name, dad just grunted and started eating normally. He still looked tense but the glares were at a minimum and Mom kept the conversation running smoothly so things weren’t quite so awkward. She’s good at making people comfortable.
“It was nice to finally sit down and meet you,” Cronan said with an easy smile directed at my parents. He was the vision of ease, shoulders relaxed. It was outrageous how calm he remained in hostile situations and even wilder that my father seemed almost . . . less biting toward him now. Somber.
“Yes, you should come by more often,” my mom said warmly. Dad threw her a dirty look but said nothing, merely averting his gaze. Obviously he didn’t agree but he wasn’t forbid
