Page 76 of Sweeter Than Fiction

We are about to head out the door to go spend Thanksgiving with her family, and she looks nervous to the point of frantic.

“Thank you,” she says. I feel it’s more out of habit than actually paying attention to what I’m saying.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask.

“Hold on,” she mumbles. “I need one more thing.”

She disappears into the bathroom. I have no idea what she’s going to grab, but she comes back moments later, ready to leave.

I consider driving, but when I see the traffic on the street, I opt for us to just take a cab instead. Abby said it isn’t too terribly far, so hopefully, it will be a quick trip.

It takes a moment for one of the yellow taxis to stop, but once we are safely inside one, I put my arm around Abby in an attempt to calm her down a little.

I watch her flick a rubber band that’s on her wrist.

“What’s with that?” I ask, pointing to it.

“Something that my therapist suggested for any time I have to deal with my family. Every time they start taking jabs at me or making passive-aggressive comments, I flick this, and it distracts me. It helps with the anxiety that comes along with these visits.”

She already seems anxious. I would hate to see her without the rubber band.

“Do you think this is going to go badly?” I ask. “What did they say when you said you were bringing me?”

Her face scrunches up. “I may not have actually told them that you were coming.”

“Is there a reason why?”

“Oh, there are quite a few reasons why. One, my mother probably wouldn’t believe me. Two, I think you’re someone who is much better observed in person. And three, and the most important of all, I just didn’t want to talk to her.”

I kiss the side of her head. “Okay, beautiful.”

“They just don’t understand me. To be fair, I don’t understand them either. I am okay with that. And I don’t try to make them feel bad for the way that they are.”

“I have to ask, Abs. If things are so tense and awkward, why do you keep going home? I mean, it’s okay to distance people from your lives.”

She thinks for a minute while biting her fingernail. “They aren’t bad people. And I love them—my parents and my brothers both. And sometimes, we do get along and have fun. I tell myself that maybe sometimes, I’m just hypersensitive to things. Maybe I just overreact to things that they do or say. They probably don’t mean anything by it, but I just get my feelings hurt too easily.”

“Well, now you will have a third party here to let you know what it looks like from the outside.”

She gives a small nod, and I can tell she’s still inside her own head.

I lean in to whisper, “Let’s just get through today, and then, we can go back to your place, and I’ll make you come any way that you want.”

There’s that smile I’ve been waiting on.

Soon enough, we are knocking on the door to her parent’s brownstone. When the door opens, a tall man with blonde hair and blue eyes opens the door.

“Hi, Abigail,” he greets. “When are you going to realize that you don’t have to knock? It’s still your home too.”

It takes him a moment before he even notices me. “Oh, hello. I didn’t realize Abigail was bringing company.”

He steps aside and lets us through the doorway before I hold out my hand to introduce myself. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones. I’m Donovan.”

He shakes my hand with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Donovan. I’m Bill. Welcome to our home.”

He sets his hand on Abby’s shoulder in maybe the most awkward way imaginable. “It’s good to see you. How have you been?”

“Pretty good,” she replies.

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