In "French & Irish" Flack takes Angell to meet his family, as they have been discussing for several of my stories now.
Flack is Irish, and for my story Angell is half French & half Irish (according to Emmanuelle Vaugier's website she is French Canadian).
"That took a while." Angell said to Flack as she opened the door.
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Danny got a text from Lindsay while I was there." Flack said, stepping into Angell's apartment.
"Everything okay?" She asks, watching him hang up his coat.
"It's a girl." He replies.
"Wait,... she had the baby already?" Angell asks in surprise.
"Nope. Just an ultrasound." Flack clarifies.
"Oh, good." Angell said, with a sigh of relief. "An early baby is one thing, but an early baby in Montana with Danny not there is another."
"True." Flack agreed, then holds up a sack. "Figured I should bring the Irish." Referring to Irish Coffee.
"And I took care of the French part of our 'International Relations' evening." She responded, leading him the few steps to her kitchen.
"French crepes?" He confirms, setting the sack down before wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Salmon crepes for dinner, fruit crepes for dessert." She said, lacing her fingers behind his neck.
"Sounds good." He said, pulling her even closer.
"There's a great little French restaurant nearby." She said, before Flack silenced her with a kiss.
"The French are great at lots of things." Flack comments, as they part for air.
The next day Flack picks up Angell at the gym, then they headed straight to his parents house for Sunday dinner...
"You okay, Jess? You're awfully quiet over there." Flack asks, taking a quick glance at her in the passenger seat.
"Yeah. I'm fine." She says with a slight nod.
"They will adore you, Jess." He assures her after assuming she is nervous. "Just like I do." He adds, picking up her hand which is laced with his and kisses the back of it. This earns him a smile.
"Well, I'm glad to hear it, but they don't even know me, Don." She says.
"Not yet. But they do know about you." He replies.
She gives him a nervous look. "What did you tell them?"
"The basics. That you're beautiful. That you're half Irish. That you're a detective. That you're beautiful. That you're from a cop family. That you're into sports. That you're beautiful. That you have four brothers." He pauses to glance at her. "Oh, and I might have also mentioned that you're beautiful."
The rest of the drive to Queens was pleasant & relaxed, and filled with as many non work related topics as they could find to discuss.
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"This is it." Flack announces as they pull into the driveway at the two story white house with a small front porch and surrounded by a picket fence. There was something charming about Flack's childhood home that reminded Angell of a Normal Rockwell painting, and she smiled at the thought of him growning up there.
Angell took the plant she'd brough out of the back seat. Her aunt had taught her it was rude to show up empty handed when invited to someone's home like this, and since she didn't cook... well, hence the plant. She'd asked Sam what kind of flowers her mother liked and she'd said lilies were her mother's favorites.
"Hey, mom! We're here!" Flack shouted from the front entry way. No response, "I'm gonna check upstairs." he says, before taking the steps two at a time.
"Mom! You up here?" Angell can hear Flack calling out upstairs.
"That boy obviously hasn't learned patience yet." Ruth Flack states as she approaches from the oposite direction with a dish towel in one hand. "Hi, I'm Ruth Flack. You must be Jessica."
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Flack. And yes, I'm Jessica Angell." Angell says, introducing herself and shaking the woman's hand.
Ruth Flack was near the same height as Angell (5'7" according to Emmanuelle Vaugier's website) with dark hair mixed with some grey, that reached just past her shoulders. She was a lovely woman, who had obviously taken good care of herself and still looked good in the fashionable jeans she was wearing. She had intense green eyes, which suprised Angell for some reason, as everyone she'd ever met with green eyes also had fair colored hair.
"Don, how could you just leave our guest stand here while you're off yelling throughout the house?" Mrs. Flack scolds as her son comes back down the stairs.
"Hey, ma." He says, ignoring the scolding and giving her a hug. "I see you made the introductions without me."
Meanwhile...
"Is the light still on, Samantha?" Donald Flack, Sr. asks his daughter, his head still partly under her car's hood.
"Yes, Dad, it's still on." She calls back from the driver's seat.
"Let me try..." He begins as the door from the house into the garage opens. "Hey, Don." He calls out, seeing his son has arrived with his girlfriend.
"Hi, Dad." Flack replies to his father as he and Angell approach the car. "Dad, this is Jessica Angell. Jess, this is my father Donald Flack, Sr."
Angell could tell immediately what Flack would look like in years to come, as he was an image of his father. The height, the eyes, the dark hair, even the facial expressions. They were all the same.
"Detective Angell, it's nice to meet you." Mr. Flack greets, trying to wipe grease off his hands to shake hers. "Um,..."
"It's okay, Mr. Flack. It's nice to meet you, too." Angell replies before the car's horn suddenly sounds, causing Mr. Flack to curse slightly under his breath.
"Oops. Sorry." Sam mumbles as she exits her car.
Flack gives her a smirk, knowing she 'accidently' hit the car's horn to regain their father's attention.
"What?" She mumbles back at her older brother, "It was an accident."
"Sam's 'check engine' light keeps coming on, so I'm trying to figure out why." Mr. Flack states, "Didn't figure on gettin all greasy doing it, though." He adds, still trying to wipe his hands.
"You pump your own gas, Sam?" Angell asks, slowly meandering to the back of the car.
"I do now." Sam says, obviously unhappy about it. "The guy at the gas station used to do it for me, but the new owners won't let him anymore." She explains with an added eye roll.
Angell casually flips the gas cap cover open and they hear the unmistakable clicking sound of the gas cap tightening, followed by a deep sigh from Mr. Flack. "Sam,..."
"I'm checking, I'm checking." She says before she can be told. "It's off!" She exclaimed, her head popping back out of the car.
"That's good work, Detective." Flack says to Angell with a smirk.
"You shouldn't be too surprised." Mr. Flack says to his son, then turns back to Angell, "Don tells me you grew up with four brothers. Oh, uh, not to imply that women can't know their way around a car, too, of course. Which obviously you do."
"Four? Sheesh,... and I thought having two was bad." Sam says, hoping to regain some attention.
"Should I just serve dinner out here in the garage?" Mrs. Flack asks from the doorway.
"We're coming, Ruth, we're coming." Mr. Flack replies and they all head back inside.
At the dinner table...
"My mom makes the best Irish stew, Jess." Flack says to Angell.
"Something else we have in common. I grew up with Irish stew, too." She replies before taking a bite of cornbread.
"Which of your parents are Irish, Jessica?" Mrs. Flack asks.
"My father is." She replies.
"What about your mother?" Sam asks from across the table.
Flack shoots his sister a look. He knows that Sam is aware that Angell's mother is deceased.
"Achoo!" Comes a sudden sneeze and everyone turns Mr. Flack's direction.
"Donald, your eyes are all red." Mrs. Flack observes, as he excuses himself from the table to go sneeze again somewhere else. "Sorry about that." He says, returning to the table and about to take his seat, "Ruth, would you please take your lillies back outside."
"Oh my gosh. Are you allergic, Mr. Flack?" Angell asks.
He just nods, trying to stiffle another sneeze. "She doesn't usually bring them in the house." He finally manages to say.
"I'm afraid that was my fault." Angell informs him.
"Nonsense, Jessica. I just should have put them further from the table." Ruth says, retaking her seat after removing the offending plant. "Your aunt obviously taught you very well and it was very thoughtful of you."
Angell noticed Mrs. Flack's mention of her aunt. Obviously Flack had filled them in on the basics about her family, something she was sure Sam already knew.
After dinner Flack's parents, along with plenty of help from his sister, provided plenty of those embarrassing childhood stories for Angell to hear, which Flack endured for her benefit. Mr. Flack enjoyed showing off the family crest brought over from Ireland by his father, and Mrs. Flack couldn't resist dragging out several photos of Don when he was little.
"Looks like that rain that started during dinner hasn't let up." Sam observed, secretly hoping her brother and his girlfriend would leave early to beat the approaching storm.
"Well, maybe it will let up after dessert." Mrs. Flack says before leaving the room. "Samantha brought Blueberry Shamrocks." She continues as she returns, carrying a tray. "Jessica,"
"Oh, no thanks." Angell replies.
"Um, mom, it's Jess' turn to be allergic." Flack informs his mother.
"Oh, dear. I'm sorry, Jessica." She appologizes. "I can get you soemthing else if you'd like." She offers.
"It's okay. I'm too full from dinner anyway." Angell lies, not wanting to hurt her feelings. She then turns to Mr. Flack to try and lighten the mood again, "But I would like to hear the rest of that story about how Don got a bullet stuck up his nose when he was seven."
"Oh, geez. Not that one." Flack mumbles to himself as everyone laughs.
Another hour later the skies have turned black, more from the heavy rain & storm clouds than lack of late day sun. "It doesn't look too good out there, son." Mr. Flack says.
"Thought this storm was suposed to blow north of here." Flack comments to his father.
"It's springtime, Don. Anything goes in the spring." Mr. Flack says, letting the window sheers fall back to their position. "You two are welcome to stay the night here." He offers.
"Oh, yes!" Mrs. Flack agrees. "We've got plenty of room."
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That's the end of chapter one.
Find out which apple didn't fall far from which tree in chapter two.