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Now I believe it even less, but I have to respect that she doesn’t want to talk about it. Whatever it is.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”
I tug my sweater over my head and slip my arms into the sleeves.
“You’re fine. But, I need to go.”
“Heading to work?”
“Yep.”
She’s lying, but I just need to let it go like she asked me to.
“Alright, well…like I said, I love you. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Love you, too.”
Then the call ends. To anyone else, she might have sounded fine. Clearly, my mom wasn’t worried about the fact that she’s not coming home, but I can’t help feeling like there’s something going on with Busy.
Something big.
And a thread of worry remains in my chest for the rest of the morning.
chapter twenty-four
Gabi
When the last few guests finally leave the Mitchell house at the end of the day, it’s nearing ten, and I am exhausted. I don’t know how Patty and Mark host such long events in their home without wanting to curl up into the fetal position. I wasn’t even the host and I’m barely functional.
Originally, when Bishop invited Leah and me to join in on the holiday meal, I declined. I figured it might be awkward, having us back with the Mitchells for a holiday when we went several years after we broke up doing our own thing.
Not that we haven’t been invited. Every year, Leah received a call from Patty, inviting her to both Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. But during the two years I was at school, I went and celebrated with classmates, and for the past two years, Leah and I have done homemade lasagna and binge-watched episodes of some pottery competition in the UK.
After our trip to San Francisco last weekend, the idea of not spending the holiday with Bishop felt wrong. I thought our difficult conversation in the hotel would make things between us feel harder or more temporary, maybe even make us more distant again, like we may have handled things in the past.
But surprisingly, it’s been the opposite.
Things feel more secure. Part of me thinks avoiding the conversation about what happened between us four years ago was threatening to tear us apart. It was something I hadn’t realized, and now that we’ve talked about it, now that we’ve had the hard discussion and shifted through the honeymoon period…we’ve come out on the other side stronger.
Even so, I’m still trying to figure it all out in my mind. All I know for sure is spending the holiday meal with Bishop and his family felt like the right thing, and for that, I’m thankful.
"Think Principal Cohen wants an NSP update?” Bishop asks as we lie together on the couch.
I giggle. “Not the one we would send her.”
We laugh together at that thought, about sending our boss an update on our relationship instead of on our students.
“Probably not the best idea. I’m not sure she’s forgiven us for the rooftop beers.”
I look up at him where he’s lying beneath me, finding his eyes already looking in my direction, watching me.
“I doubt she’ll ever forgive us for that.”
We watch each other for a long moment, the fireplace dragging me into a lazy, post-holiday coma.
“Did you…want to stay?” he asks, almost like he can read my mind.
“Would your mom be okay with that?”
