"Hey, Mikaela," Sam greeted as I entered my apartment.

I'd been over at Gran's overseeing set-up for the Fourth of July BBQ where we'd also be announcing our engagement. He still wasn't dressed for it. I'd left him an hour ago in one shirt and now he was in a different one and nervously staring at an understated plaid like it held the mysteries of the universe. I could see two t-shirts crumpled on the bed and something mom-provided that he didn't have the heart to throw out, but which had obviously been pulled out from his suitcase given the number of wrinkles in it. The man wasn't great about wardrobe choices in a normal setting and this was a warning sign of some kind.

Looking at the shirt-pocket with a slightly mournful expression, he said, "We don't have to make a big deal about all of this. Eloping is an option." It sounded like he was grasping at some straws that had nothing to do with looking preppy on a hot July day.

He was definitely projecting too much of his nerves onto something with a missing button on the cuffs, so I took the logical approach. "We promised Bumblebee this wasn't happening without him," I said, setting my helmet down on the entry table.

His current mental state reminded me as it often did that Sam was a guy not entirely comfortable in his own skin, but I thought early on that he'd get over that like a bad haircut. Even as a college graduate with a degree in International Relations, he was looking like he was about to be arraigned instead of celebrated by some mildly-wacky-and-probably-hyper people. I didn't bring the comparison up this soon after the plea deal.

I pulled a Red Bull out of the fridge and put a protein bar on the kitchen table beside it in case he needed something more than liquid courage to get him through the front door.

"Do I look okay?" he nervously asked.

"Hmm…" I answered noncommittally. I knew that, once the word was out, someone would stick us in front of a camera, so I decided we needed to coordinate. I gave his jeans and a button-down plaid shirt a once-over and pulled a couple of sundresses out of my closet. Holding them both up next to him, I opted for coordinating colors instead of complementary ones. Tossing the blue chambray dress on the bed, I started changing.

"Button the tabs on the sleeves and undo the top two buttons on the collar and you'll be good to go," I advised him. "Trust me, you make that work."

He immediately obeyed and I was glad that he didn't pop the collar, just adjusted it to look less stuffy. He was more J. Crew than office manager that way.

I adjusted the straps and checked to make sure I hadn't tucked my hem into my underwear or anything. Satisfied that I was looking more than a little presentable, I looked his way again and grinned in approval.

"Shirt untucked," I suggested with a gesture to his hem. "You're part of the family now and we dress casual when burgers and brats are involved."

"Says the girl in a dress."

"Says the girl in a sundress," I corrected while getting a hair clip to pull half of my hair back. "It's a whole different genre of casual."

Facing the full-length mirror, I pulled him close and gave us one more looking-over. We definitely matched each other in a non-obvious way. "We look so good together it's almost like we're a couple or something," I said, winking at him in the mirror. I could only hope that it was obvious to everyone who would be meeting a future member of the family today.

I pulled the ring off my finger and handed it to Sam with a quick kiss, "Hold onto this for me, until I need it."

He grinned and stuck it in his pocket. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Hold on. I'm not sure I've got enough room to move in this thing. Can I try something before we leave?"

As long as he didn't accidentally rip anything down the back, I was fine with a little bit of a test run. "Go for it."

Suddenly, I was Scarlett O'Hara and the only thing he gave a damn about was PDA. Our clothes held up very satisfactorily for a Hollywood make-out.

"Yup, a perfect fit," Sam diagnosed, as he stood us both up again.

I was tempted to say, "Oh, you," but I was still trying to catch my breath. We definitely belonged together.

...

The ride with RaFly back over to Gran's wasn't a long one, but we got the important stuff decided.

"I'm not springing the surprise until I've had some words with your dad," he mentioned. "I'm not asking for permission, but I'm thinking something more like letting him know that we want him to be part of the family we're going to be setting up and we hope he'll let me be part of the one you've had all these years... if that's okay with you, that is?"

I frowned at his phrasing. "Sam...my relationship with my dad has never been anything like the one you have with your parents. It's more like...your relationship with your Uncle Lance. You're family, but...you don't rely on him and he doesn't have more than a passing input in your life. I think the last time I ever asked my dad for anything to do with my life instead of just telling him my plans was when I was seven. Gran was more a parent to me than Pop ever was."

"So do you not want to tell him in advance?" Sam asked, brow furrowed.

I sighed, "Your parents are okay with surprises; Pop is not. Not after I decided to assert my moral compass when I was nine. We can inform him in advance but his only choice in this is to accept it or shove off." That was a little more blunt than I had intended but it was accurate. Sam paused to gulp a moment and then nodded.

"So we inform him and if he doesn't attract a crowd with cartwheels at the joyous news, we'll wait for a lull in the conversation?" Sam suggested.

I nodded. "Everyone will be keeping an eye on us anyway, so we won't need more than just a 'hear ye, hear ye' so they know when to stop spreading rumors and listen up."

And if Sam was running interference with Pop, I'd better do the same with Gran. She'd been none too thrilled about him back in high school, but she'd softened toward him over the last couple of years, once it became apparent that he was going to do something productive with his life. She'd been downright warm about his college graduation. Of course, I hadn't had a chance to find out how his recent stint in jail might change that.

By some miracle, we then pulled up to the curb in front of Gran's house at the same moment as the Witwickys.

"Look how lovely you are!" Judy cooed from across the road.

"Thanks, Judy." I let her hug me tightly around the neck. She wasn't under the influence of anything more potent than motherly pride, but she was enthusiastic enough to seem slightly tipsy and dressed in stars and stripes that included sequins.

"And you guys are so cute!" She interlaced her fingers and flexed them expressively. "So good together, if you know what I mean."

"We always know what you mean, Mom," Sam said. "Glad you approve."

She was clearly looking for more information on the subject, but I pivoted. "You look very patriotic."

"Well, I was hoping we'd have something to celebrate today," she said with no attempt at subtlety, "but happy birthday, America, anyways."

I had the feeling that if Ron did a shot every time she tried to prod us into matrimony, he'd have alcohol poisoning by the time we got through the potato salad. He just gave us crazy kids an eye-roll behind his wife's back and slapped Sam on the shoulder, jostling him enough to endanger the watermelon that he'd schlepped to Gran's house as our contribution to the potluck.

"Thanks for having us, Mikaela," he said. "Lead on, wouldja?"

I steered them around the house through the gate to the back yard. In my absence, food and a couple of uncles had shown up. I immediately grabbed Sam's hand so he wouldn't feel alone or inclined to make a run for the hills.

"I'm not saying they're normal, but they won't bite without a lot of provocation and some of them are even saner than your mother," I muttered.

Sam nodded in a kind of spastic jerk of his head. "My future in-laws are a lot less scary than the 'Cons," he said like it was his daily mantra.

"That's the spirit," I said. "Put down the watermelon and I'll find us something to drink."

By the time I got back with two red Solo cups full of root beer, he'd introduced himself as Sam-I'm-here-with-Mikaela-you-know-Mikaela-right to one uncle, Pop's best friend from high school, and the soccer mom from two doors down. The frozen grin was back, but he was using his words and that was a good start.

"So you're the genius boyfriend," Leanna the neighbor said.

"Not a genius," Sam answered. "Just…uh…focused."

I thanked God that no one seemed to recognize him from the time his name and driver's license were displayed in Times Square.

"Smart enough to be a keeper," I interjected, handing him one of the cups. "And yes, this is the boyfriend who went to the big-league college back east."

"Whoa-ho," Uncle Kyle said. "Fancy."

And I sent up another thanks that Sam hadn't worn something as embarrassing as a bowtie. Looking like a summer intern on his first day was slightly awkward, but he still could pass as pretty normal. I tried to get someone our own age to save us, but when my cousin Jackson came along, I was the subject of Judy's adoration.

…

I finally caught up with Gran in the kitchen where she was refilling the lemonade cooler. "So…I just wanted to let you know that Sam and I will be making an announcement in a little bit."

"That you're kicking him to the curb?" she grumbled.

I sighed, not surprised but definitely disappointed. She'd apparently reverted to her original attitude toward Sam. "You know me better than that, Gran."

"He's rotten for you. He'll only get you into trouble – or worse! I knew that all along, and his latest screw-up only proves it."

I smirked at her. "You did not know that all along. You even sent him a graduation present a couple of months ago."

She huffed indignantly. "You need to find someone better, someone who lifts you up, not someone who'll drag you down with him."

I actually laughed out loud at that, remembering all the headaches the 'femme commander' stuff had caused. "You have no idea how much he lifts me up."

"I'm not just talking about traffic violations," Gran continued, really working herself up now. "He's been in trouble – BAD trouble – three times now. First there was the time he ran off with you in high school, then he was an international fugitive, and now this. You deserve better than a felon!"

Despite my efforts to keep a level head, she was starting to irritate me. "Firstly, he's not a felon, and without him, I still would be." Her eyebrows shot upwards, but I plowed on, "Secondly, even if he were, your own kid went to jail, Gran. I spent time in jail. If you're going to hold it against him and Pop, you're going to have to hold it against me, too."

I headed toward the back door but paused at the threshold. Looking over at her, I added, "Sam and I are both jail-birds now. Maybe that means we're perfect for each other."

…

Outside, I visually located Sam over by the grill before the neighbor Leanna caught me up in conversation again. Pop made him flip burgers as a kind of manly ritual. At one point, I saw Sam furtively check the perimeter of the patio and then say something to Pop that made him grin and slug Sam's shoulder.

Aunt Deena waylaid me as I was restocking the ice in the coolers and asked me if we were saving ourselves for marriage. I didn't have the heart to be honest, just said that we both respected each other's lifestyle choices.

"...And she's just so SWEET," Judy was saying to Gran and some cousins as I made my escape from Deena. The grill on the other side of the yard where Pop and Sam were bonding looked like a safe haven. Scott, one of our mechanics at the old shop, beat me to them and handed Sam a bag of chips. "Of course," Judy continued behind me, "our Mikaela's a career woman with brains and beauty and you should see the work she's pulling in at the shop…"

I was half-flattered by Judy's gushing and half-morbidly curious about why Sam was looking both ashen and relieved by whatever Scott had just said. He was one of the few people here who would threaten stern lectures instead of a fistfight should Sam ever hurt me, so he shouldn't have been alarmed by anything Scott said.

Just before I moved out of earshot, I heard Judy change the subject. "I tried to convince them to look at this house for sale down the street from us, but Sammy has big ideas about staying out East…"

Sam wasn't making a sound, but he looked about ready to find the nearest broom closet to hide in. Scott and Dad started loading hot dogs onto a serving plate, so I swooped in, slipped my arm around Sam's and stole one of his chips with my free hand. "Hello, honey."

Steering him away from listening ears, I murmured, "What just happened?"

"It's no big deal," he quietly claimed, though his eyes were a little too glassy. "What have you been up to?"

"Not much. Just reminding Gran that she has even less say in my choices than Pop does." He kind of gulped at that, so I added, "Your mom's trying to sell my merits to my side of the family in case they think she's not my biggest fan." I shrugged a shoulder in his direction. "What just happened and why isn't it a big deal?"

"I just had a bonding moment with Scott."

He was answering questions like he'd been prepped by Raquel for some intense cross-examination. That raised a couple of red flags, but I decided to not get too pushy about it. It didn't stop me from worrying, though.

"From the look on your face, you just got placed under citizen's arrest," I whispered, feeding him the next chip to put him back in a good mood.

He came up with a more satisfactory answer by the time he'd swallowed the last bite. "Scott remembers the news in 2009 and it's no big deal."

"Your picture everywhere," I breathed and took care to move my lips very little in case someone was watching us.

"My picture everywhere and a homicidal alien robot demanding my whereabouts," he said in kind. "He didn't mention the library, or the death count though, so there's that."

"And this isn't a big deal because…"

"Because he said the only thing he needs to know about me and the aliens is if I'm keeping you safe from them."

I had to stuff three chips into my mouth to stifle my laughter. "Boy, if he knew," I said once I'd cleared my mouth again.

"Boy, if he knew," Sam echoed with a hint of a genuine grin on his face. "I think he's my favorite person here after your grill-master dad."

"Well, according to Wheelie, he has no survival instincts, but I think that his cute little heart is in the right place." I was pretty fond of Scott, if nothing else for being the most down-to-earth person on the payroll.

"But we can't let him make any toasts because I don't know if he'll mention E.T.'s big bad cousin when he's had a few drinks in him," I decided. "That's also why Leo is under a gag order for the wedding."

"And Simmons isn't invited," he added.

The man was scary enough without his inhibitions lowered, so I nodded emphatically. "We'll get someone to beg him to be on security detail, suck up enough to flatter him."

And we could probably even get a decent coffee maker in the process.

"Hey," Pop said, as he slung an arm around my shoulders and winked. "My future long-term cook's assistant is slacking on the job and I know the expression of kids hatching a plan. Either share the details or get back to work."

"Sorry," Sam said. "She was making sure no one was roughing me up and staving off dangerously low salt levels with Cool Ranch Doritos."

I transferred one of the chips over to Sam with a quick kiss, then ducked out from under Pop's arm. "I'll leave you to it, but you'd better make it up to me later."

"I'll save you the veggies I haven't set on fire," Sam promised solemnly.

…

When the first round of burgers and dogs were safely on the table and all the condiments had been hauled out from the kitchen, Pop called out, "Everybody – hey, everybody," until the conversations around us quieted. "Uh, Judy?" he prompted, as Sam's mom exclaimed at something loudly while everyone else turned their attention to him. I felt a sloshy kind of unease begin in my stomach.

Once everyone was quiet, Pop said, "So, um, these crazy kids...um…."

Sam met my gaze, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. His nervousness was kind of adorable – this was the guy who offed Megatron and brought back the Prime, after all – but it was also 100% relatable. Especially considering my tiff with Gran. My mouth was suddenly a bit dry, too, so I nodded encouragement to him.

He quickly stood up, and my dad took that as a cue to sit down.

Sam cleared his throat and gestured toward me. I crossed the patio to hold his hand.

"Um...you all don't really know me, but you do know Mikaela and love her almost as much as I do. So we, uh, wanted to let you know…" He swallowed hard again, starting to turn the color of oatmeal. "We're getting married."

Judy squealed so loudly Sam and I both jumped, but everyone else got kind of quiet.

I glanced over at Gran to gauge her reaction. Catching my eye first, she next crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Sam. "He's a jail-bird, but he won't be the first in the family."

Knowing Gran's prickly attitude, the rest of the family took that as their cue to congratulate us and we got kind of mobbed. Aunt Deena hugged me, Uncle Kyle was enthusiastically pounding Sam on the back, and Pop and Ron were shaking hands. I caught sight of Jackson's sister Janine passing over a fiver and guessed – probably accurately – that they'd been putting bets on Gran's reaction to whatever was making the new guy nervous.

As my well-wishing family milled about, I overheard Aunt Deena say to my dad, "Did you ever imagine the day would come that you'd be giving away your little girl?"

He made a sort of half-cough and said, "She's not mine to give away. That ship sailed more than a decade ago."

It was true that I'd had to do a lot of fending for myself during my teenage years, but the reminder of the emotional distance still felt like a punch to the gut. I realized it was also kind of horrible that he felt that way. Not that I'd planned on him giving me away, but I had anticipated a quiet conversation a few weeks down the road about being a non-traditional type of couple. I didn't expect him to know before he even saw the ring, and I really didn't expect him to understand the true reason why.

A pained expression crossed his face, and he took a swig of his beer.

I turned away so I couldn't be expected to weigh in on it or give a false statement that 'of course he could,' like any 'good daughter' would be expected to.

There was an awkward pause as Aunt Deena tried to backpedal out of the current topic into something safer. "Judy, Ron! How many people from your side will be attending?"

...

Now that the cat was out of the bag, the ring could come out of Sam's pocket. As soon as I put it on, Judy, Aunt Deena, Gran, Leanna and some of my cousins all crowded around to gawk at it. Scott peered over some heads and gave a whistle, "Nice, but not something you want on when doing an oil change."

Sam, on the outer circle behind Judy heard the comment and replied, "Don't worry, she already has that covered, a chain to wear it on when she's working."

"But she's not wearing it like that all the time, right?" Leanna asked sharply. "That thing is too gorgeous to keep hidden."

That wasn't for her to say, but I was glad that the chances of it being worn like the One Ring was the worst she could say about it.

"I thought he'd get you something strong like tungsten," Scott said. "This is shiny and all, but how durable is it?"

"Tungsten is more likely to shatter on impact," I explained. "This baby's titanium."

That got ooohs of approval from everyone who had just looked on it as lifelong bling and Scott looked impressed.

"So, is the rock industrial-strength, too?" he prompted.

"Created diamond," Sam said, joining the circle. "Mikaela's big on ethical practices and I wanted to honor that by making sure no humans were endangered in the making of this grand romantic gesture."

That brought on a satisfying number of awwwws.

…

It was the event that wouldn't end. We Baines could party hearty with the best of them given the right circumstances and a national holiday on which big news was followed by fireworks definitely qualified. Aunt Deena was feeling generous enough to ask my future in-laws to stay for one more round, but I could tell that we were all ready for an escape route.

Instead of trying to talk my way out of the festivities, I started helping with the cleanup. It was surprising what a buzzkill an open Hefty bag could be and the crowd started dispersing. Within twenty minutes, I was on the receiving end of one last hug – from Gran. She wasn't exactly jumping for joy now, but she had brought herself to a level of approval that meant Sam was her next target of affection.

He looked slightly taken aback afterwards, but didn't bring it up.

Judy and Ron trailed after us, cheerfully shouting goodbyes and, in Judy's case, promising to send out details as soon as they existed.

Twelve steps from the front door and three from the sidewalk, we were out of earshot of just about everyone. Ron and Judy caught up to us and future-mom linked her arm through mine with a squeeze of my forearm that was a little too enthusiastic to be affectionate.

"You sly dogs."

It took everything I had not to bust a gut laughing. It was some kind of miracle that we'd gone this long without Judy catching on and we had every right to be proud of ourselves.

"Not sly, Mom," Sam said. "We know how much you love a surprise."

"You sly dogs," she repeated. "When did this happen?"

"Be specific," Ron requested. "I've got money on it."

"I bet," Sam muttered.

"No, but I do. Your Uncle Kyle thinks this was in the works before you had your road rage thing and Mikaela called the whole thing off because of your bad behavior."

"Hey!" Sam protested, then lowered his voice in case we weren't as out of earshot as we thought. "It wasn't my bad behavior. I was the fall guy."

"That's not the point," Ron insisted. "Date, time, location?"

"Recently, when it was the right time, and none of your business, Dad."

"Yellowstone!" Judy crowed in sudden realization. "I knew that whole thing about the Grand Canyon was a coverup!"

"You wouldn't stop stalking us across a national park!" Sam said. "Of course there had to be a coverup."

Sensing that this was on the verge of being uncomfortable, I decided to intervene. "You know us too well, Judy," I said calmly. "Sam had it all planned out, but we wanted to be fair to both sides of the family. We couldn't tell you before we told my Gran. We love you all too much to play favorites."

And we didn't want her excitedly blabbing on Instagram, but she didn't need to know that.

Judy scowled, "But I still need details!" She looked around furtively and then jabbed a finger in the direction of RaFly, "We all know that thing can drive itself, so you're both coming with us."

Ron edged away, "Actually, I think I'll take the wagon and leave them to you, Judy."

"Ron – No! I need to show them my preparations! I can't do that AND drive."

"Mom!" Sam said, "First of all – RaFly is not a thing, she's a person. And we don't need to go over all of this right this second."

"Oh we absolutely do! You're heading back to Nevada overnight to be back at your 'job' tomorrow. Which I would protest as too dangerous if she," pointing at RaFly again, "weren't doing the actual driving."

I saw Sam about to explode and put a hand on his arm, "Judy, we would love to meet up with you and work out some high-priority stuff, but let us go back to my place for an hour and freshen up and then we'll meet you at the RV park."

It was meant to placate everyone. Sam wouldn't feel quite so ambushed by our very own wedding planner and Judy wouldn't think we were trying to ignore her concerns. In the middle, Ron could get some breathing room and I could get in a receptive frame of mind for whatever was coming down the turnpike.

"Sound good?" I prompted.

"Take all the time you need," Ron interjected before Judy could haggle an appointment time. "We'll be ready when you are."

Sam gave a little nod and raised an eyebrow at Judy. Judy sighed and folded her arms, "One hour."