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"Is that shrimp I smell?" my dad asks when he walks through the door. Mom and I laugh as the pounding of his boots grows closer.
"It is. I made my buttery-baked shrimp with garlic-lemon sauce and roasted Brussels sprouts," she tells him once he enters.
He wraps his arms around her and slides his lips across hers, ignoring my presence completely. My parents have always been affectionate, no matter who’s around. While I think it's sweet as hell, it's a constant reminder that I'm alone.
"I'll be ready in a few, gonna clean up," he says, then smiles at me. "Hey, kiddo. How was your day?"
"Just fine."
Once he returns from a quick shower, Mom pulls the skillet out and brings it to the middle of the table. We say grace, then dig in.
After a few minutes of eating, I decide it's now or never. With each bite I take, the more nauseous I feel.
"So there's something I need to tell y'all..." I shove a piece of shrimp into my mouth and stall.
"Who is he?" my dad demands in his husky you're in trouble tone. You'd think I was sixteen and about to tell them I got hitched to a complete stranger or something. Not a thirty-year-old woman still living at home.
"What are you talkin’ about?" I wrinkle my nose.
"Jackson, let her talk." Mom nudges him. "Go ahead, sweetie."
"You know I love you both, but it's time that I move out," I blurt, sounding more assertive than I intended. "Payton's offered me one of his spare rooms, so I'm moving in with him this weekend."
"This weekend?" my mom squeals. "Why so sudden?"
"You're gonna live with a boy?" Dad arches a brow.
I shrug. "Can't be any worse than livin' with a female roommate who brings a different guy home every weekend."
"That's true," Mom admits. "I've had plenty of friends like that."
Dad glares at her, triggering a memory, I'm sure.
"Anyway, there's really no rush, but I'm too excited to wait. Plus, I basically live there already, so it’ll almost be exactly the same. You’ll still see me every day at work, and I'll come visit, I promise."
"Yeah, that's what your brothers said, and then they got married and had babies." Mom smiles. "Though I'm not opposed to that."
I groan. "Yes, I know."
"Are you and Payton sleepin' together?"
"Dad!" I shout.
At the same time, Mom yells, "Jackson!"
"What? I'm not stupid. I know what being roommates implies."
My heart beats harder as I try to keep it together. I hate lying, but I'm not confessing what we're really doing.
"We're just friends," I confirm for what feels like the thousandth time.
Dad and Mom share a look, and I know what they're thinking. They were childhood friends before getting together, but my situation is different. Payton and I don't have a history, and we've never experienced jealousy. I’ve done nothing but encourage him to give a chance to all the women who’ve flocked to him over the years. Bottom line: we're friends who are making a baby...hopefully.
"This is a bad idea," Dad says. "You should stay home and save your money."
"I've saved plenty of money over the last decade." I groan. "Also no one wants to date an old maid sleeping ten feet away from her parents."
"Jackson, she has a point. She probably wants to be on her own and have some privacy."
