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“Watch it, or you won’t be lifting with the big boys anymore.”
“Will he really let you blow things up?” Zach asks.
“Sure,” Kaden says, collecting the bag he dropped when he tackled us and aiming for the kitchen. “Is there any shepherd’s pie left?”
“Hey, leave some for me!” Zach says, close behind.
I follow them into the kitchen, watch as Kaden bends to give Mom a kiss on the cheek, and let the worry I’ve been carrying unwind a few notches as he attacks my abandoned plate.
Kaden’s going to be fine.
For now.
Chapter 19
Interrogation
Thanksgiving Day is wonderfully gluttonous,with our annual neighborhood flag football turkey bowl in the morning, followed by finishing the cooking with Mom and a delicious extended-family feast in the early afternoon. Claire, her husband, Ryan, and their two kids are with Ryan’s family for Thanksgiving, so there isn’t anyone tiny for me to play with. At least we’ll get to have them for Christmas.
Once the initial cleanup is done and the relatives are gone, Dad and the boys settle in front of the TV to digest while Mom and I wash the last few dishes. If I work hard enough in here, I might make room for another piece of pumpkin pie. Plus, it’s nice to have some alone time with Mom.
Until she recognizes an opportunity to interrogate me.
“School goin’ well?”
“Yeah, my load is pretty light. I’ve been putting in some extra hours with the after-school kids.”
“I bet they love you.”
“I love being there. It puts things in perspective, and the kids are great.”
She agrees and hands me the electric frying pan, dribbling water down my arm and into my sleeve in the exchange. I shudder and rub my arm against my side to stop the stream.
“And what are you doing for fun?” she asks. “What trouble have you and Ivy made?”
“Not seeing much of Ivy these days.”
“Oh?”
“She has a boyfriend,” I say, bracing against the wedding bells I know this will set off in Mom’s ears.
“That’s great!” she says. “Are they—”
“They just started dating,” I say, cutting her off before she can go any further.
The bells quiet, but there’s a determined glint in her eyes. “And who are you datin’?”
Dang. Did I say thed-word? Maybe I can redirect her back to Ivy and we can dissect her relationship issues instead of mine. I throw a little more effort into drying the pot in my hands, scrambling for a deflection. Too late.
“Areyou datin’?” she presses.
Does Noah’s paid tutoring count? I mean, we see each other every week...
What about the impromptu celebration and attempted kiss from Ethan? Not really, but I’m using it since it’s all I have besides the crappy first date with the guy who only wanted to talk football at the beginning of the semester. “Some,” I say.
“And how’s math?”
It’s unnerving how she jumped right to that. And why was Noah the first person to pop into my mind when she asked about dating, anyway? “You know, it’s not too bad. I think I’m pulling a C.”
