Mrs. Bouchard gaveme a look I’d never received before—it was all-knowing and motherly, a stern pursed-mouth expression that had me shifting uncomfortably in my spot beside her. I’d helped her make the cookie dough, and like she’d promised it was easy, but now that the baked goods were in the oven, she was staring as though waiting for me to confess all my sins. I was close to doing just that. She’d already asked how Alton and I had met while we were mixing together ingredients, and I’d answered like I had to the journalist, but now I wondered if my responses had sounded too rehearsed.
“Sit down, Noah.” She waved her hand toward the kitchen table and I hustled to it, plopping onto one of the seats as quickly as I could. I didn’t want to give her a reason to hate me. For some strange reason, I wanted Alton’s mom to like me.
She eyed me carefully as she sat in the chair opposite mine, crossing her arms on the table. Behind her, hung on the wall, red tinsel glittered from the sunshine that streamed through the back screen door. Her house was cheery and Christmassy, and I’d never been in a home that made me feelwarm. Everything my parents did was cold and purely to look good in front of their friends. I couldn’t remember a time when we truly enjoyed the holidays as a family. They threw parties and liked us to be there to show us off, but this year was different. I suspected Dad was hiding in shame, and Mom was hating me for putting them in that position.
Mrs. Bouchard was the complete opposite of my mom in every way. While Mom’s superficial appearance brought across the same cold perfection as the house, Mrs. Bouchard was welcoming, even if she was obviously suspicious. Her hair reminded me so much of Alton’s, with the same redness that made him endearing, and nearly identical freckles were there on her cheeks as well, beneath a sunburn that had me wincing in sympathy. I never went in the sun and doubted I could handle the pain from a burn like that.
“I must know,” she said, startling me out of my quiet reverie. “Was my son embarrassed of us?”
“What?” I gasped before quickly shaking my head. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Her eyebrows dipped seriously, and she threaded her fingers together. Her green-and-red plaid shirt added to the festive feel of the house, and I was jealous of how tan her nonsunburned skin was. I imagined if I lived out on a farm like this, I’d look the same. “Not inviting us to the wedding and coming up with excuses about your parents. Alton’s always been proud of where he came from, but sometimes love makes us ashamed of our beginnings.”
“No.” I leaned across the table, and before I knew what I was doing I grabbed her hands, holding them in my own. Her skin was warm, as though she’d been out in the sun for too long before we arrived. “Of course not. Alton is so proud of you and his dad. He was excited to bring me home to you.”
It didn’t hurt to lie a little, right? Alton had barely been around to talk about his parents or Texas. I’d spent long nights waiting for him to come home, only to be forced to go to bed because it was too late. I’d begun to think he was bored with me already and regretting the marriage. Most people expected me to be someone else completely, and when they met me, they were usually underwhelmed. It appeared as though Alton was another victim of my bland personality.
“Then tell me the truth. No lies.” She turned her hands in mine and held on to me tightly. “Why weren’t we at the wedding?”
I wasn’t used to people searching for answers from me, and I was hesitating too long. I’d always been a terrible liar, which is why I’d made it my duty to never lie. Fibs were festering cesspits that poisoned a person and growing up in my family already made me feel tainted. I didn’t need extra guilt on top of my childhood. But this lie... I could see why Alton had chosen to tell it. His parents meant the world to him, and I was an object, athinghe used to get what he wanted before he threw me away with the rest of his used toys. I couldn’t ruin his parents’ view of him. I’d never forgive myself.
“Can I be honest?” I asked, and she nodded eagerly. “I was mostly telling the truth. My parents aren’t good people. Even though I only just met you, I feel more connected to you than I do my own mother.” Swallowing, I squeezed her hands again. “Our life in New Gothenburg is worlds apart from yours. Everybody there wants something from Alton and me. They weren’t at the wedding to help us celebrate our love. You’re different to Alton. He loves you very much and he—we—didn’t want you to be mixed up with those sorts of people.”
She let out a relieved breath and guilt churned inside me. Her smile lit up the kitchen. “Why didn’t he bring you here before the wedding, then? I should’ve met you before then at least.”
I winced and stared down at her colorful top, which complemented the bright personality I’d seen so far. How I wished Mom loved me like Mrs. Bouchard loved Alton. “It all happened so fast. I never knew love at first sight existed until I met your son.” Lies. Filthy, foul-tasting fibs. At least Alton was hot, but I couldn’t tell her that.
She laughed and jumped to her feet, rushing around to my side and dragging me into a hug. I gasped when her arms wrapped around me so tightly I almost couldn’t breathe for a second. She kissed my cheek, and I melted into her. “You are so damned adorable. You forget those stuck-up people back in New Gothenburg. We’d be happy to have y’all if y’all moved here, you know?”
“Mama.” Alton stood at the screen door and jerked it open, stepping inside. He stomped his boots, knocking off any dirt from his feet onto the mat. “You watch her, baby, she’s as sneaky as a copperhead. She’ll have you convinced your only option is to move to Texas. She’s been doing it to me for years.”
“Oh hush.” She laughed and slapped her hands to her face. “I’m not that terrible.”
“She ain’t as innocent as she looks,” said a masculine voice behind Alton.
Alton shifted out of the way and an older version of him walked through the screen door, gray hair so short it was barely a buzz cut on his head and smile wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. There was something kind in the way he stared at me, his brown eyes dark and curious. A dog with three legs followed him inside and I stared at the cute animal, which had black-and-white fur. The dog stopped beside Alton, and he scratched its ear, making the dog thump its foot on the wooden floor.
Moving toward me, Mr. Bouchard grinned. “You must be the husband. I’m Eric, Alton’s daddy.”
I pressed my lips together to stop a laugh from escaping. I knew it was normal for people in this area to call their fatherdaddy, but I was officially ruined with the word. One of the guys I used to go to high school with, Coen Redding, was happily out as a Daddy on social media. It was amazing to see how open most of our old classmates were about supporting him. I swore I even saw one of the ex-football players like one too many of his posts, which had me highly suspicious.
I shook my head, focusing on Alton’s dad, and held out my hand to greet him. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”
He didn’t give me a handshake like I’d expected but grabbed me and dragged me into a hug, the same as his wife. He held on tightly, and I fell into his embrace, enjoying the obvious family love. Alton’s parents were so free in opening their arms to me, and I guiltily enjoyed every second. Part of me wished this marriage wasn’t fake. When he finally let me go I didn’t want him to.
“And this is Buster,” Alton said, patting the dog on the head. “He’s our imperfect but perfect border collie.”
Buster’s tongue rolled out of his mouth and he panted, giving me big eyes that had my heart melting. I loved dogs, but Mom never let us have one.
“He’s too cute.” I leaned down to scratch his face, and he made the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. He tried to give me his one front leg and nearly crashed forward, and I was the only thing that stopped him.
“He forgets he’s only got three legs, even though he’s been like that since he was a pup.” Eric let out a booming laugh.
“His owners were pedigree breeders, and to them he was damaged.” Alton’s eyebrows dipped in irritation. “They were going to send him to the shelter, but Mama heard about it and took him off them.”
Mrs. Bouchard huffed. “I hate those pedigree breeders. No hearts. They only want the money. Which reminds me, did you do your chores?” She slapped her hands on her hips and stared intently at Alton. “I don’t see no Christmas tree, boy.”
I smothered a laugh as I rose, and Alton gave me a cheeky grin. The look on his face was strange,new, and he appeared a lot more relaxed than I’d seen him. The tight, concentrated expression was gone, leaving behind one that was happy and carefree, and it caused warmth to swell in my belly.
