The next twoweeks seem to pass faster than I can process. Bash’s parents get lunch with me and him before they fly home—without Bash, much to their dismay—and hold true to their request that he move out of their lake house after his fight.
By the time the weekend arrives, my own parents are practically kicking my door down for an extremely overdue family gathering.
With everything I’ve had going on, it’s been way too long since I’ve seen their faces, and I’m ready to fix that.
“I’ve missed family dinner.” Zara sighs the words dreamily as she rests her head on my shoulder.
“That’s because you never do any of the cooking,” says Mom. “I’d miss it too if everyone else fed me delicious food and all I had to do was show up.”
I laugh at the way Zara pouts at our mom’s response. “Mom, not everyone has your gift,” I say. “You can’t expect her to be eager to keep trying when she always burns everything.”
Zara turns her glare onto me next. “Okay, I feel attacked. I’m officially going to hang out with Dad and Aiden.”
As she stomps off, Mom and I exchange amused laughs. “She’s right though. I definitely missed these dinners, too.”
Mom smiles. “Now, from you I’ll accept that sentiment. You almost do more of the cooking than me. And you wouldn’t have to miss us in the first place if you weren’t so busy all the time. Going two months without seeing me, your father, and Aiden is unacceptable.” She stirs the stew on the stove, rapping the handle of the wooden spoon against the side to remove excess liquid. The salty scent of the meat and vegetables in the pot makes my stomach growl.
I wince. “You’re right. I can’t believe it’s already November. I’m sorry. And I haven’t even asked you how your trip was.”
“It was just as wonderful as you’d imagine a cruise to the Bahamas to be, sweetie.”
I sigh. “I’m happy for you.” But as I help make the bread and mix the salad, I can feel my mother’s gaze on me.
“Something’s different about you,” she finally says.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She narrows her eyes at me as she searches my face. For a moment, I’m nervous she’ll be able to see right through me and find out about Bash, or the fact that I’m about to head to Boston with him tomorrow for his fight.
But before she can ask anything, Dad, Aiden, and Zara enter the dining area, which is attached to the kitchen.
“That smells amazing, honey,” Dad says. “Thank you both for cooking.”
Aiden barely acknowledges anyone because he’s currently immersed in a paid livestream of a mobile game on his phone.
Mom and I set the plates of roasted ham and bowls of stew on the table. My stomach growls again as I plop into my own seat and take Dad’s and Zara’s hands as we say Grace. When we’re finished, I’m more than ready to dig in.
Aiden’s eyes gleam as he takes in all the food. “Is it Thanksgiving already?”
Mom laughs. “That would explain why we’re actually getting some face time with your sister for once, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh, please,” I say. “It’s not like I’ve been meaning to stay away so long. I’ve just been busy with work. I’m trying to make a good impression on my clients, so I’ve had to overbook myself.”
“That and Romilly has been seeing someone,” Zara adds.
The remaining three pairs of eyes at the table jerk to my face.
And just like that, my appetite is ruined.
Everyone speaks at once.
Mom: “I knew there was something going on with you!”
Dad: “Then I would like to meet this fellow, Romilly.”
Aiden: “What’s his name?”
Slowly, I face Zara. She’s blushing with shame, like she didn’t mean to out me like this. “Was that necessary?” I ask through my teeth.
