1.

Aunt Mae, with typical aplomb, couldn't have phrased it better. "It's a pity we had to find a dead body the very first day you bring your fiancee home to meet us."

Faith sighed and rested her chin on top of her fists. "It is. Although, to look on the bright side, at least he hasn't run out on me."

"Yet," Jerry grinned, and most of the adults frowned at the eight-year-old. Faith's brother remained delightfully unperturbed by the looks.

"Yet," Faith agreed. "Gabe was still in bed when I left him this morning. He could've been waiting for me to leave so that he could sneak out the window."

The Houston family, all seventeen members of them, filled the kitchen in what had been deemed a VIFM -- Very Important Family Meeting. They immediately began making the obligatory noises of sympathy and reassurance in reply to Faith's statement.

"Tell him it's not an everyday occurrence," Uncle Ackson said helpfully, scratching his white handlebar mustache. "We don't get this very often."

"Yeah, just every full moon," Jerry cackled, and received several disapproving glares. Faith let out a huge groan and buried her face in her folded arms on the table.

This hadn't gone the way she'd planned at all. She'd intended to slowly expose Gabriel to her family in doses so small that he wouldn't immediately turn around and run the other way screaming. Instead, this had to happen. If she ever met the gods responsible for pulling this little stunt, she'd kick their butts all the way to Toronto.

Faith and Gabe had only been engaged for nine weeks, even though he'd proposed to her on the third date. Back then she'd attributed his actions to the overcooked scampi, but Gabe continued to be persistent. He kept raising the question until Faith threatened to smack him upside the head with a plastic clothes hanger. He wisely remained mum.

A month later, he got his way. They were engaged.

The little sneak. Faith found herself threatening to smack him upside the head if he ever left her. Gabe was very pleased with himself for that.

She consequently spent the next month worrying over the right way to introduce him to her family.

The Houstons weren't exactly small. Or normal. They scared off any sensible man, so even if any did stay by her side, there had to be something wrong with him.

There was a reason Faith didn't have boyfriends throughout her high school years, and it wasn't because of her nose.

She was very certain that Gabe had only stayed with her for this long because she now lived in the city, away from her Oregonian folks. He'd never met them before, and thus hadn't been frightened witless.

Bad enough that she now had to risk her family picking his brains apart. Her inviting him home for Thanksgiving was not supposed to also include finding a dead body in the basement, right next to Daddy Boot's special case of wine.

Faith had been horrified. Gabe had stared blankly at the corpse. Daddy Boot, or D.B. as he was called, had roared on discovering the side of his wine case smudged with dried blood. He eventually calmed down after determining that the bottles inside were safe and sound.

Gabriel, very reasonably, decided to call the local law enforcement. Of course, Cousin Wilhemia was the local law enforcement. She was the town's first female sherrif, and had taken charge of the investigation immediately. After letting her deputy question everyone in the family (and everyone in the family giving the same answer that they didn't know anything, because most of them had been watching Jerry beat Uncle Ackson at blackjack), she said that they should all get a good night's sleep so that they could remember details in the morning.

And here they were now, in the kitchen, except rather than remembering details, they were doing their best to commiserate with Faith's situation. After all, dead bodies were dead bodies, but family was family.

Footsteps descended on the wooden staircase. Faith raised her head from her arms, chewed on one thumb, and glanced with trepidation at the stairs. She didn't want to think about Gabriel carrying his luggage down, ready to leave. She'd warned him that her family was unique, but he definitely hadn't signed up for dead Billy Bob in the basement.

The rest of the household heard him and turned their heads in his direction, too. So when Gabriel trod into the kitchen, he found all seventeen Houstons staring at him with varying expressions of apprehension, curiosity, and fascination. Jerry, on his part, displayed outright glee.

Faith breathed a sigh of relief to see that Gabe's hands were empty and he was in jeans and T-shirt, ready for breakfast.

"Morning," he said to the eyes fixed upon him, looking like he didn't know whether to go to Faith or back away from the crowd. Thankfully, he chose the former. The family parted to let him stand behind Faith and drop a kiss on her upturned forehead. "Morning, sweetie. You let me sleep in."

"Well, yes." Faith waved her hand inconsequentially, fumbling for something to say. "I thought you needed the rest. You know. After last night."

His lips didn't so much as twitch, though his blue-gray eyes did twinkle. "Afraid that I'd suffer a delayed reaction of hysteria?"

Faith blushed guiltily.

"Juniper's got coffee and tea going," Aunt Mae said generously. "Do help yourself."

"Yes, ma'am," Gabe said, and leaned down to kiss her hand.

Aunt Mae's rosy cheeks pinkened even more, and she mumbled, "Oh my."

Exactly the way she had when Gabe had done the same thing on meeting her yesterday. Faith stifled a grin. It was rather charming, actually.

"Waffles will be ready in just a bit," Juniper announced, and put her hand in front of Gabe, too. He kissed it dutifully.

There wasn't a spare chair in the room, so Gabe took Faith's seat and she sat on his lap. He blinked in surprise when she curled her knees up into him, sleek as a cat, and he cast a nervous glance at her family members. He apparently confirmed that they were a very captivated audience.

"So," he began, clearing his throat and looking around, "everybody gathered 'round for breakfast, huh?"

"For the VIFM," Uncle Ackson said, and was promptly shushed. His red cheeks turned a shade of vermillion.

Gabriel was confused. "What's a vee-fum?"

"Nothing. Did you sleep well, honey?" Faith smiled brightly at him.

He grinned and spoke in her ear so that only she heard him. "You should know. You were right there with me."

He kissed her on the cheek, enjoying her sputters. "Yes, I did," he said aloud for his future in-laws' benefit. "I'm assuming everyone here is talking about last night's murder."

Voices immediately began pouring in.

"Murder? Are you sure?"

"The boy's right, Fancy. Billy Bob was dead, wasn't he?"

"Maybe he fell down the basement stairs."

"And bounced five feet over to where the case of wine was?"

"It could happen."

"Lucky it wasn't six feet, else my case of wine would've been wrecked!"

"Oh for heaven's sake, D.B., Billy Bob from next door is dead and all you care about is your case of wine?"

"It's seventeen years old, Martha! One year for each of us here! Though with Gabe we might end up turning eighteen and then some."

"Oh my. Murder in this house. Whatever will happen next? A Republican on our front porch?"

"Uh, Aunt Mae, I have something to tell you. . ."

"Jefferson! Say it ain't so --!"

"Waffles," Juniper called, and everyone stopped talking and immediately began lining up with plates.

Gabriel blinked and glanced at Faith, who didn't look the least bit surprised. Instead, she picked up two plates for the both of them and went to get in line.

After all, murder was one thing. Juniper's waffles were entirely something else.

Part 2 of the fun continues. . .

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