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“You look awful sad today, Moonbeam.”
“Just sick of the white stuff outside.”
“One of the pleasures of living in Maine,” Mom laughs and she’s not wrong.
“What are you doing?” I ask her, deciding to change the subject because there’s not much I can do about the weather. I can’t invite Gavin over either, because if he got hurt on these roads, I’d never forgive myself.
“Going over my shopping list for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Will Daddy be here?”
“Of course he will, Luna. It’s Thanksgiving. Where else would he be?”
“I don’t know, he seems to be out of town a lot lately.”
“It’s only travel for work. It will get better.”
“I hope so, I miss him,” I tell her, and I do, but I’m more worried about Mom. I hear her crying at night when she thinks I’m asleep. There’s something going on, and I know that she’s trying to shield me from it.
“Are Gramma and Pop-pop coming in this year?”
“They can’t make it this time, Moonbeam. Mom is still having trouble with her hip, but we’ll go visit them soon.”
“Good, I miss them.”
“Me too.”
“Umm… Mom…” I ask, wringing my hands nervously in my lap.
“Do you think I could ask someone to come eat dinner with us?”
“Jules? Won’t she be eating with her family?”
“I think they’re going to Florida.”
“Now I’m jealous,” Mom jokes.
“Yeah, me too,” I laugh. “Anyways, I kind of wanted to invite a guy.”
Mom puts her notepad down and looks at me.
“A guy? Are you dating someone, Luna?”
“Well, not exactly, but I might be soon and…”
“And?”
“I really like him Mom,” I tell her finally, and I can feel the blush creep up my face.
“Who is it? Did you finally give in and accept a date from that nice Richards boy?”
“Ew, Mom, no. Larry Richards is not nice. He’s a pig and kind of a pervert.”
“He is? But his family goes to church and he’s been on the honor roll all through high school.”
“That just proves he’s a smart pervert and his family might be nice, I don’t know. I just know that Larry makes my skin crawl.”
“Has he done something to you, Luna?”
“Not like you’re thinking, but he has made lewd comments and tried to be rough with me when I turned him down after he asked me out.”
“You should have told me,” Mom chastises.
“There was no point. I handled it. Actually, Gavin did.”
“Gavin?”
“He’s the guy I want to ask over for Thanksgiving. I really like him Mom. He’s smart and funny, good looking and…”
“And?”
“He makes me laugh. A lot.”
“I’ve never heard you talk about a Gavin. Is he new at school? Maybe I can invite his mother out for brunch.”
“Uh… Gavin’s mom is not around. I don’t think she lives in Maine anymore. He lives with his dad and brother.”
“That’s so sad. Maybe we can invite his entire family over?”
Panic hits me. Gavin would hate that. Besides that, it’s going to take a lot of begging to even convince him to come to dinner alone, let alone with his brother and father—both of whom he can’t stand.
“I can ask, but I think since this will be the first time you meet him, he’d rather come alone, Mom.”
“You think your young man will be nervous to meet your parents?” she asks, and I smile when she talks about Gavin as ‘a young man.’ I doubt anyone has called Gavin that in the history of forever.
“Yeah, Mom, I think he’ll be nervous.”
“Then, just ask him, and we’ll do our best to make him feel welcomed.”
I can’t help myself. I reach over and hug my mom close, grateful that she’s always in my corner. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
“Thank you, Mom!” I exclaim, excited that I can finally push Gavin into making our relationship public. Surely, he will see that once my parents accept him the rest will fall into place.
“If he’s important to you, Luna, we want to get to know him. I’ll be asking questions about him if you two start dating,” Mom says and immediately guilt hits me, because we are dating—even if it’s not official. Gavin is more than important to me too.
He’s everything.
“Let’s get through Thanksgiving. If it all goes okay and Gavin and I start dating, I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” I promise, suddenly feeling hopeful.
I can’t wait to tell Gavin about Thanksgiving.
Chapter Twenty Three
Gavin
“Damn, Baby, I’ve missed you,” I growl, as we break apart.
I swear every time I kiss her, I get more addicted to her. The taste of her lips haunts me continuously.
“I’ve missed you too,” she exhales, her lips swollen from our kiss, her hair rumpled from my fingers. Her breathing is ragged, but then so is mine. These make out sessions are getting more intense. I’m trying not to push her into a direction she’s not ready for, but I want her so much that I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back.
