Page 45 of Wrapped Up In You
Tonight, we’d arrived separately at our parents’ house, figuring it’d look weird if we arrived together, considering that in the past, we’d barely spoken more than just to make polite conversation. But now, as I stood on the porch, wrapped in his arms, I was starting to realize just how hard it would be to keep this thing between us a secret. I was too far gone for him to hide it.
“I guess I’m just having second thoughts about—”
We jumped apart at the last second, just as the door opened. My mom stood in the doorway, darting a glance between us, obviously wondering why we were standing out there without ringing the doorbell.
“Were you guys going to come in or just stand out in the cold all night?”
“Hi, Mom!” I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “We just happened to arrive at the same time, and you caught us right as we were about to ring the bell.”
“Well, come on in. It’s cold out there!”
I glanced back at Jonathan as I crossed over the threshold. He looked stricken, and I realized I hadn’t finished my sentence. I tried to turn back to explain I wasn’t having second thoughts aboutusbut rather about keeping it a secret. Too late, Mom was dragging me down the hallway toward the kitchen. I’d just have to try to get him alone to clear it up.
We entered the kitchen, which they’d just had remodeled a couple of months ago. She’d chosen light and airy colors with a white countertop and gray cabinets. But the thing I’d been drooling over was the stove. It was a beautiful six-burner gas range with a dual convection oven. I was dying to cook something on it.
Jonathan came in behind me, looking rather subdued. I wanted desperately to pull him aside to talk to him and clarify what I’d been about to say, but I wasn’t sure how to do so without drawing attention to us, and I didn’t want to give anything away about our relationship unless he was on board.
Mom poured us each a glass of wine, asked us how our holiday was, and then proceeded to launch into a story about her trip. It wasn’t that she was selfish, so much as that she was excitable. And in this instance, it was fortunate because that meant Jonathan and I didn’t have to lie or skirt around the truth of our own holiday adventures.
When the timer went off for the oven, she shooed us into the dining room while she put the finishing touches on dinner. I’d offered to help, but she’d refused, so Jonathan and I moved into the next room.
“Hey.” I put my hand on his arm, stopping him from pulling his chair out. He peered at me, his face a mask of cold indifference that had my heart freezing in my chest. “I didn’t mean to say that I was having second—” Jon came into the room, cutting me off once again, and I pulled my arm back, moving around to the other side to sit opposite of Lucy.
Mom came in with a platter loaded with pot roast, having opted against the traditional fare since it was just the four of us. It dawned on me that this was one of only a handful of times when it had been just the four of us gathering for a meal. Mom had come from a large family, so holiday meals often consisted of a larger group with aunts, uncles, and cousins in attendance. Tonight, we wouldn’t have extended family as a buffer. Well, with Lucy misunderstanding what I had been about to say earlier, perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard to pretend we were no more than acquaintances.
“So, Jonathan, what did you do for the holiday?” Mom asked as she passed him the serving platter. She must have forgotten she’d already asked us in the kitchen.
“I spent a few days up at the cabin.”
“Oh? By yourself?” Bless my mom. She looked so affronted by that idea.
Jon spoke up from the end of the table. “Who else would he have gone up there with when his divorce was just finalized?”
“Thanks, Dad.” Jonathan’s tone was dry, but those little digs from his father were just the type of thing that I knew got under his skin. I nudged the side of his calf with my toe, hoping to remind him he wasn’t alone, but he pulled his legs back out of my reach without looking at me.
“Well, honey, what about you? What have you been up to? How was Christmas with your dad’s family?”
“Oh, um…” I caught Jonathan eyeing me for just a moment before he slipped his mask back on and turned his attention back to his food. “Dad and I sort of had a fight. I ended up…staying home.”
“You were alone on Christmas too? What did you and your father fight about?” Motherly concern was etched across her features, and I loved her for it. She and my dad’s divorce had been mostly amicable, but she’d never liked how hard he’d pushed me growing up.
“Just the usual stuff. He asked me when I was going to get a real job and use my degree.” I shrugged and shoved a bite of potatoes into my mouth. I couldn’t say that it didn’t hurt that I didn’t have my dad’s support, but I could either let it eat at me or I could try to move past it. Jonathan had helped me see that a degree wasn’t everything and maybe it was time to pursue whatIwanted.
“What is it that you do again?” Jon asked, his voice gruff.
“He’s a server at Olive & Vine. You know that,” my mom responded, shaking her head at him. Jon grumbled in acknowledgment but didn’t respond any further.
“Lu—”. My eyes shot to Jonathan’s, wide with alarm. “Er, can you pass the rolls, Jonathan?”
Our parents continued to eat, my slip going unnoticed, while Jonathan passed me the rolls, shooting me a glare.
Great.
“Well, I just hate the thought that you both spent Christmas alone. If I’d known that was going to be the case, I would have canceled our trip.”
“Nonsense. It was nonrefundable. They’re grown men. They can manage.”
I set my fork down, looking from Jon to Mom to Jonathan. Jon continued to eat, completely unaware of the looks he was receiving from the rest of us. Mom spoke first, addressing her husband from across the table. “Well, that’s quite the attitude you have. They’re ourfamily. They shouldn’t be alone at the holidays.”
