Page 38 of Never Really Mine
“Happy Thanksgiving, Ma,” I say, squeezing my mother tightly with one arm.
“Oh, Happy Thanksgiving, honey,” Mom replies. She takes the small platter from my hands, setting it down on the counter behind us. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” I run my hand through my hair, hoping she doesn’t see the shell of anxiety that I am. I’m not lying, I am good, but I’m anxious that I’ll let it slip that Marley is pregnant. In the last three weeks since her appointment, things have been tense. Not as tense as they were before Josie and Andrew’s wedding, but still, tense.
I know I pushed her too hard that day when I leaned in to kiss her. I couldn’t help it. There’s been this constant pull toward her, and it’s only grown stronger now. Between the proximity, and the knowledge that she’s pregnant with our children, it’s been torture trying to keep my hands off her.
“Where’s Marley?” Mom asks, unwrapping the plate of deviled eggs I brought. Marley made them, then promptly threw up from the smell. She opted to stay behind and shower again. She said it would be better for us to arrive separately, as it’s lesssuspicious. I’d scoffed, and the death glare she’d given me shut me up immediately.
“Not sure,” I lie. “I talked with her earlier, and she said she’d be here.”
Jason arrives just then, saving me from further interrogation. Lennie runs through the living room into the kitchen and straight into my mom’s arms. The two of them have such a special bond. The realization and hope that soon enough my kids will be running to her for hugs and kisses is like a sucker punch to the gut. I can’t wait for that day.
My mom watches Lennie nearly every day, saving Jason from the costs of daycare until Lennie goes to school. He’s been a single dad now ever since Lennie was just about one. His ex, Talia, was addicted to drugs, and shortly after Lennie was born, she picked up the habit again. She left just before Lennie’s first birthday. He hasn’t seen, or heard from her, since. He says it’s for the best, but I know he wishes that Lennie could know her mom.
“Hey, man,” Jason says, giving me a quick one-handed hug.
“Hey,” I greet. Thomas follows close behind, with Gramps in tow. Gramps tosses his cane to the side as soon as he’s in the door, making Thomas groan.
“Gramps, the whole purpose of this thing is touse it,” he says.
Gramps waves him off. “It gets in my way.” He looks spiffy in his dress pants, button down shirt, and wool sweater.
Thomas grunts, picking up the cane from where it was discarded. Gramps makes his way to the couch, joining my dad in watching the football game. I don’t have time to greet him or Thomas, because Josie and Andrew are walking in, followed closely by Marley.
Josie has Marley pulled into a side hug, giggling as she whispers something in her ear. Marley’s cheeks are flushed and she looks so happy. It would sound cliché to say she’s glowing,but she really is. I can’t help but react to it, I smile as I watch her, not caring who might see me staring.
She’s in different clothes than when I left, now in a gorgeous moss-green sweater dress. It hugs her soft curves, and when she turns to the side, I swear, I can see the tiniest hint of a baby bump. I have the strongest urge to run to her side, hold her close, and rest my hand over her stomach, protecting her, protectingthem, but I tamp it down.
She says hello to everyone, then comes to stand by my side. I’m under very strict instructions not to give anything away, which unfortunately includes touching her in non-platonic ways. To be honest, I think it’s stupid. I’ve always touched her and hugged her, but now I have to stop?
Oh well. I’ll do anything for her.
Her parents arrive, and shortly after, we all sit down to eat. The food is passed, plates are filled, and things are perfect. It’s weird to think that next Thanksgiving, we will have two more to add into the family.
I reach over, squeezing Marley’s thigh softly. I offer her a smile, thankful I get to share this with her. Instead of the happy face I expect to see, she looks miserable, and if I’m right, she’s about thirty seconds away from puking.
Shit.
27
MARLEY
Hold it in.Hold.It.In. I swallow down another gag, pretending to take a bite of my sweet potatoes. I’ve been looking forward to Nikki’s sweet potatoes all week, and the second Beau scoops a heaping pile onto my plate, I’m ready to upchuck all over the table.
Beau squeezes my thigh, and when he looks down at me, he has the sweetest look on his face, and I can almost read into it, read into his emotions, except I can’t react, because I’m bolting up from my chair, muttering “excuse me”as I run through the dining room down the hall to the bathroom to puke.
I hear footsteps following me, but I slam the bathroom door shut behind me, needing the moment alone.
“Marley.” Beau’s voice is strained, worry etched into his tone.
“I’m fine,” I bite out between gags.
A few minutes later, I finish. I didn’t even puke. Just gagged and heaved up nothing. I wash my hands, and make sure I didn’t ruin my makeup.
I open the door, and Beau is there, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hall. His arms are crossed across his chest, giving me a glimpse of his forearms. He must’ve rolled upthe sleeves to his sweater, because my eyes immediately dart to the extra bit of skin. His right arm is covered in tattoos, some of them similar to mine, but every single one is something we discussed together. The forest scene wrapped around his wrist is one of my favorites of his. We came up with the idea together.
Most of our tattoos don’t even have meaning, except for our “Dead Sea” tattoo, and my butterfly tattoo. Though, Beau doesn’t know the meaning of that one.
