Page 58 of How We Loved

We enter the kitchen to see my dad gathering the plates from the cupboard.

He hands one to Trevor. “Here, go ahead and dish up whatever you would like.”

“Thank you. This looks delicious,” Trevor responds.

“Yes, my daughter here has learned to be quite the cook. I hate to admit it, but I’ve never been very good at it, so she had no choice but to learn after we lost her mom.”

“It’s all about what my mom taught me when I was little,” I say with pride. “I’d sit right there, and she’d teach me everything she was doing.”

Dad places his hand on my shoulder, as he always does when we discuss the wonderful memories of my mom.

“This is the recipe she’d make every Christmas. I thought this was a special occasion too,” I say as I grab my own plate.

Trevor gives me a compassionate grin. “I can’t wait to try it.”

We all dish up, then go sit down at our kitchen table in the nook.

“So, Trevor, tell me about yourself,” Dad asks.

“Not much to tell. I grew up in Springstown. My father is a factory worker, and my mother is a waitress at the diner downtown,” Trevor responds.

“Doesn’t sound much different from my upbringing. My mom waited tables at the diner and my dad was a truck driver. Only difference was, my dad probably wasn’t around as much as yours since he would go on three-day trips. Do you have any hobbies?”

“I ride bulls.”

I beam with pride. I still think that’s the coolest thing ever. I’ve never known someone who rides bulls. It just seems like such a manly sport.

My dad must think the same, judging by the surprise on his face. “Really? That seems like an intense sport.”

Trevor perks up instantly. “Very much, sir. I love it though. There’s nothing better than hanging on for dear life when the bull wants nothing more than for you to get off him. It’s such a control or power thing. It gives me a high I can never explain to people.”

I pull out my phone. “You should see his Instagram.”

I reach over to show my dad his page. I hit play on a video, and he watches intently.

“Well then.” Dad nods. “Very impressive.”

“Which one did you show him?” Trevor tries to peek over to see what we’re looking at. I show him. “Oh, that’s the one where I won this belt buckle.” He scoots back in his chair to show us what he has on.

“Congratulations,” Dad says genuinely. “Is that something you can do in college?”

“Yes, and my hopes are to ride there, then go pro.”

“Any colleges in mind?” Dad asks.

“Walla Walla Community College in Washington is the number one school, and I have family there, so that would be helpful, but really, I’ll go anywhere that will give me a scholarship.”

My dad purses his lips and nods his head slightly. “I remember those days. That was the only way I was getting into Stanford—if they offered me a scholarship. I can’t imagine what our life would be like today if I hadn’t gotten it. I really hope it works out for you, son.”

I smile at both my dad and my boyfriend getting along and having a great conversation. After all, this could be the two men in my life from here on out.

Visions of Ben pop in my mind, and I pause, realizing that he probably won’t be around at some point. Just like me, he’ll move on, have his own wife and family. I guess Trevor was right about us not hanging out as much. This is where we start to live our own lives.

My heart breaks at the thought, but I push it aside and go back to our conversation.

After breakfast, Trevor and I hop in his truck to go for a drive.

“I didn’t realize breakfast would take so long. I only have forty minutes before I have to leave now,” Trevor says with obvious irritation in his voice.

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