She was dressed in slacks, a pretty green blouse, and was just stepping out of her heels. There was an overnight bag by the door. Coming or going? You know, I didn’t want to ask.
“You look happy.”
Another grin lit her up, and she paused as if to consider my comment. “I am happy. Food’s on the counter. I’m just going to change.”
I scooted out of her way, and she brushed a kiss to the air next to my cheek.
Almost a week since I’d seen her, and that was at least familiar. We didn’t go for the PDA here. “What’s the occasion?” I called.
“Hmm?” Her door had opened and then closed again.
“What’s the occasion? You got fried chicken.” Maybe I should just swallow the questions. Did I really want the answers? It was hard to decide, really.
Damn, it smelled good though. I grabbed a couple of plates out of the cupboard and set them on the table, then went back for my soda. It was mostly empty, but I might as well finish the can. I checked my phone while I was in there. If I hadn’t heard anything after food, I’d try again.
I told him I was pissed and I needed space, maybe he was giving it to me.
In the kitchen, I opened up the bags of food. Two buckets of fried chicken, all the sides I could want, fresh hot biscuits, and there was gravy for the mashed potatoes. My mouth was watering as I loaded the plate. The French toast I’d had that morning might have been amazing, but it had been a few hours earlier, and it hadn’t been fun to eat while facing Mrs. Standish knowing what I knew.
“What did you ask?” Mom said as she re-entered the kitchen. Tory sat in the doorway behind her, tail swishing as she watched us. Tiddles had no such shame, he was already sitting on one of the chairs at the table and eyed the food as I served out my portion. He wouldn’t get on the table, but he’d definitely mastered the “I’m starving and wasting away to nothing” expression.
Fortunately, I’d mastered ignoring it. Glancing at my mom, I said, “I asked what the occasion was…” I motioned to the chicken. “Thanksgiving isn’t for another couple of months.”
Mom said, “Does it have to be a special occasion?”
That wasn’t an answer. “I guess not.”
“Maybe I just felt like doing something fun to celebrate.”
Yeah. Okay. “Mom, if we’re celebrating, then it’s a special occasion.”
Rolling her eyes, Mom glanced at me and then turned to open the fridge. “True. Do you have time to talk?”
The dread curling my stomach suddenly developed volcanic properties, and my appetite evacuated. “I was doing homework, but—yeah.”
“Don’t sound so thrilled, I wouldn’t want your excitement to overwhelm you.” The dry teasing probably had the opposite effect of what she’d hoped for. I nudged Tiddles off the chair and sat down, then took a bite of the chicken. It was crispy perfect and a little greasy. The rich flavor turned to ash on my tongue, but I kept chewing.
At least if I was eating, I didn’t have to say anything.
A bottle of water in one hand and a Coke in the other, she sat back at the table and put the Coke in front of me while she opened the water. “I met someone.”
Oh. Please don’t tell me. Please…
“I met him a while ago,” she said. “He’s—amazing. We’ve been dating since early last spring.”
I almost choked. At my cough, Mom frowned but waited for me to take a drink before she continued.
“We kept it quiet, personal. I think he was as concerned as I was about whether this would work out. I haven’t been the luckiest, you know.”
Yeah.
I knew.
Blotting my lips with a napkin, I nodded.
“But he went with me these last few business trips…”
“Okay.”