“So, this smiling thing—is that something he actually does now?” June asks, her eyes wide when Waylon takes her son up on his invitation to play soccer in the backyard after dinner. “Like, regularly? Because I think Mason was getting used to saying stuff like, ‘at least I’m not as bad as Waylon’ when I ask him to smile in pictures or stop glowering at our neighbors.”

I laugh, and tell her, “I think it’s here to stay.”

So, okay, no…most healthy relationships don’t include a guy introducing you to his family because he wants to see if you'll try to run. But I find myself appreciating the test for reasons that have nothing to do with the freedoms I’m hoping he’ll grant me after I pass his little test.

I want to be with Waylon. Here, and in Iowa. That’s an important thing to know for myself too.

And even though I have plenty of opportunities to ask for help from reasonable people, at no point do I want to borrow a phone to call the police. Or slip one of the Fairgood wives a note that says, “Help! I'm being held semi-hostage in Angel Pond.”

“It's nice up there,” I tell his family as we sip on the signature cocktail Kyra and Colin commissioned for their party. “Quiet. And peaceful.”

I tell them about the town and the dream house Waylon built on the pond that bears his nickname for me. By the time I'm done, all the Fairgood wives are sighing, and Colin, Mason, and Woods are kicking around the idea of coming up for a visit.

“Kyra’s always complaining about how our oldest kid spends too much time on the iPad,” Colin says. “We should try something like camping. Take it back from our dads.”

A shadow falls over Mason and Dixon’s faces when Colin says that.

As bad as Waylon's mother sounded, I get the sense that their dads weren’t any better.

“We’re really glad Waylon brought you,” Kyra says after their moment of silence. “Waylon’s always been great with our kids. But he doesn’t talk much, and I never would’ve imagined him bringing someone to Thanksgiving dinner we actually liked.”

Everyone laughs, and all those warm, accepted feelings that I kept waiting for with Jonathan’s family rush over me.

“Are you two planning next steps yet? Like marriage and having kids?” Nitra asks. “Because once a Fairgood picks you, it’s like boom!”

She karate chops both hands down and up above her belly and calls out, “Ya pregnant!”

They laugh some more, and I laugh some more, too.

But then, I wince and answer, “I don't think marriage is a thing his club does. And I’m not sure if Waylon’s up for the whole kid thing anyway.”

“I want kids,” Waylon says, interrupting us out of the blue.