“Everything’s just about ready,” my mom calls from the kitchen. “You guys want to take your seats?”
I glance over at Elise who gives me the thumbs-up.
“Sure,” I reply.
We’re at my mom’s house for Thanksgiving dinner, and later we’ll go to Elise’s parents’ house for dessert, just like she suggested. I hadn’t really wanted to come—I’m not all that close with my mother, but at Elise’s encouragement, I’d reached out to my mom and she’d been so happy to have us over, and I guess I got caught up in the excitement. But it’s actually going better than I thought it would.
I usher Elise to the dining table with my hand at the small of her back. After pulling out her chair and helping her settle in, I lean down and press a kiss to her lips. “You okay?”
She nods, looking chipper. “I’m doing great. I’m proud of you for coming.”
I know what she means, that she’s proud of me for manning up and setting aside my differences with my mom for the sake of the holiday. In a way, so am I. I haven’t been home for a home cooked meal in what feels like years.
“And those baby pictures?” She lets out a soft chuckle. “Those were priceless.”
I inwardly groan. Fifteen minutes into our visit my mom whipped out the baby albums, including the ones where I was naked in the bathtub as a toddler. Fan-fucking-tastic. Nothing undermines your masculinity like your girlfriend laughing at your childhood sized penis.
I narrow my eyes in mock disgust and shake my head. “I’ll be right back.”
Elise giggles again, trying to hold it together.
I head into the kitchen and watch my mom pour a sauce pan containing gravy into a small dish. Everything smells amazing.
“What can I help with?”
Mom shoves a platter of turkey at me. “I’m not one to refuse help in the kitchen. Carry this to the table?”
I nod. “Sure thing.” I grab it along with a casserole dish filled with potatoes and make my way back to Elise. Mom joins us a second later with a dish of vegetables and dish filled with gravy in her hands. Elise pours the wine and then I say a small blessing and then we begin to eat.
It’s been a long damn time since my mother cooked for me, and in some ways I’m still leery of being here, but in others, I’m glad Elise pushed me to do this. Plus, with her by my side, it makes everything easier. When I’d called my mom and told her I was dating Elise Parrish, she’d only laughed and said, ‘about damn time.’ I still chuckle that everyone had placed bets on us getting together when, all along, we were scared to take the plunge. Well, Elise wasn’t. I was. The moment she whipped out the key to her apartment, I’d started sweating, filled with dread that I’d only end up hurting her. But Elise had called me on that too. I was scared. But I’m not anymore. I won’t let my past dictate my future. I know what I want, and she’s sitting right beside me.
I cut into my first bite of turkey and chew. “This is good, Mom.”
She beams under my compliment, tears filling her eyes. “Thank you, son. I’m so happy you’re home.” She dabs her eyes with a cloth napkin. “Ugh. Look at me getting all emotional. I’m sorry.”
I swallow and reach over to squeeze her shoulder.
“It’s just…I’m so proud of you. Of the man you’ve become.” She pauses, looking down at her barely touched plate. “Your father and I were young. We made a lot of mistakes.”
I really don’t feel like traipsing down memory lane. Especially not right now. All of this, my convoluted emotions, my messy family history, it won’t be solved over one dinner, and frankly I’m not in the mood to get into this right now. Or ever.
“Mom,” I say, my tone firm. “It’s fine.”
“I know it’s hard to talk about, and we don’t have to relive anything tonight. But I want you to know I love you, and I’m happy you’re here.” She puts her hand on mine. “And I want to make it up to you, so I hope you’ll give me the chance.”
“I love you too,” I settle on. “Thanks for saying that.”
Elise lifts her fork, taking a bite of her food, her eyes downcast.
After a few minutes of eating in awkward silence, I can’t take it anymore. I launch into a story about the fight I got into during our last game, which has mom and Elise sharing conspiratorial looks.
“He used to be even worse,” Mom says. “Always so aggressive on the ice.”
Elise nods, not disagreeing.
Mom leans back, taking a sip of her wine as she appraises me, then Elise. “Honestly, I think I have you to thank, sweetie. My son has certainly calmed down. I’m not sure if you’re aware—but he went through a bit of a slutty stage.”
I blink in slo-mo. Did my mother just call me a slut?
Elise coughs into her napkin in an attempt to hide another laugh. “Um … You’re welcome?”
They share a laugh—at my expense mind you—and then two sets of eyes swing my way.
Elise’s gaze softens as she directs her attention back toward my mom. “Thank you for raising a good man with a good heart. Underneath all that slutty behavior, he really is a keeper,” she adds.
I groan. “Come on, I’m right fucking here.”
They laugh again. Elise reaches under the table to pat my leg, leaving her delicate palm on my knee. She can try to console me all she wants, but I’m pretty sure once we’re alone later, I’m going to spank her sexy ass. It’s that thought that makes me grin.
It’s safe to say my mom and my girlfriend are going to get along great. And even though I’m not super close with my parents, it still feels good to have her acceptance. Elise is part of my future, and it feels amazing to have her by my side—yes, even when she and my mom are ganging up on me.
With Elise by my side, I’m learning I can pretty much tackle any obstacle head on. Which is good, because Owen and I still haven’t had that talk he told me needed to happen. And I’m guessing we need to do that sooner rather than later before shit gets any weirder between us.
