Mom and Dad stand to greet us and we all exchange hugs. It’s been a month since I’ve seen them and not even New York City—or Flagstaff—is a decent substitute for spending time with them.
As we pile into the half-moon booth, I follow the natural flowand end up seated next to Mom, Dad next to her and Drew next to Dad, leaving the empty seat for Connor on my other side.
Speaking of my boyfriend, Mom asks, “Is Connor still able to make it?”
Count to three. You don’t know his whereabouts because you are not his girlfriend. He did not text you five minutes ago saying he’s on his way.
Thankfully, Drew answers before I’m able to slip up. “He’s on his way.”
Mom and Dad ask Drew for an update on Reagan. My brother’s face falls before he levels it out, offering, “She’s fine.”
My parents visited Reagan yesterday before she was discharged from the hospital. I imagine they were brought up to speed on everything.
The waitress arrives to take our drink order, and nobody is more excited for the interruption than Drew. As the waitress leaves, Connor appears at the table with a slap on Drew’s shoulder and a bright smile to my parents as he moves into the empty seat beside me.
Remember the rules.
I say it as much to myself as I try to telepathically communicate it to him.
“Sorry I’m late,” Connor supplies. “Still playing catch up at work and I lost track of time.”
Memories of this morning flash through my mind. Connor luring me awake with his face—and fingers—between my thighs, both of us completely lost in the feel of each other. He was thirty minutes late getting out the door.
Do not grab his hand.
“No worries, dear,” Mom coos.
“How’s the jet lag?” Connor asks.
“Today’s better than yesterday, that’s for sure,” Dad says with a soft laugh as Mom puffs out her cheeks on an exhausted exhale. “We were both awake for three hours in the middle of the night, but managed to fall back asleep for a bit after the sun came up.”
The waitress returns with our drinks and we dismiss her a moment later, requesting more time to look at the menu.
“So,” Mom prods, “I want to hear about your trip. Connor, that was so nice of you to step in when Drew couldn’t make it. Thank you for doing that.”
Connor sips from his glass as he waves off the gratitude with his free hand. Like water dousing out a fire, Mom’s next question lands like a hammer on an anvil. “I hope your girlfriend didn’t mind.”
His expression falters for a beat and Drew must notice because he answers first. “He and Lauren broke up, Mom.”
The stone cold stare that passes between my brother and my boyfriend communicates a thousand thoughts that only I can translate.
Drew still thinks Connor made a mistake.
Connor’s guilt over our secret is eating him away from the inside out.
Do not grab his hand.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Mom says. “She was a lovely girl.”
Connor smiles politely, breaking my brother’s stare. “Thank you, Kelly. Laurenisgreat, but it just wasn’t going to work out.”
His leg brushes mine under the table. It could be excused as incidental contact, but he doesn’t back away and neither do I.
Drew shakes his head so imperceptibly anyone could miss it, before he says, “Anyway, the trip. Let’s hear it.”
I practiced this part. I rehearsed the words in the mirror this morning. Yet, when I look at my brother across the table, his expectant gaze bores into me and my throat goes dry.
“Gretch, are you okay?” Dad asks.
