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She skips as we walk toward the kitchen. “If he was tickling you, that meant he wasn’t tickling me.”
I laugh. I can’t really fault her for that way of thinking.
A delicious smell hits my nose when we enter the kitchen. Mom is setting a bowl on the table, and I walk over to the counter that holds a couple more dishes that need to be moved. Picking up a basket of rolls, I bring it to the table and take a seat.
“This smells great, Mom.”
She smiles and pats my hand. “Thank you, sweetie.”
I scoop some potatoes on my plate, then Avery’s, then pass the bowl to Dad.
“Are you all packed and ready for tonight?” I ask Avery as I take the bowl of broccoli from Mom.
Her nose wrinkles when I place a spoonful on her plate. She grabs for the ranch dressing Mom put on the table just for her, and she squirts some on. She’s the only person I’ve ever seen eat ranch with cooked broccoli. She says it helps mask the nasty taste. Whatever it takes to get her to eat her vegetables is fine with me.
“Do you know what movie you want to watch yet?”
Thursdays are my and Avery’s day. Sometimes I take her out to eat and we go back to my house where we spend the rest of the day watching movies. Sometimes we eat here and then go back to my house. I love Thursdays because I get her all to myself. Even if she doesn’t know it, I get to play mom on those days.
“Something scary,” she answers, not surprising me in the least. She’s always loved scary movies.
“We’ll see what Hulu has for us.”
“Okay,” she says through a mouthful of chicken.
“I ran into Jessika the other day at the grocery store,” Mom remarks halfway through dinner.
“Oh?” I ask, sensing there’s more.
“Her new guy friend seems like a good guy. Handsome too.”
“Hey,” Dad grumbles.
Mom pats his hand. “It’s okay, honey. You’re much more handsome than he is.”
“Remember that,” he mutters, earning a laugh from Mom.
Picking up her glass of tea, she eyes me over the rim before taking a sip, then putting it down.
“She said you’ve been seeing someone.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes, but don’t manage to keep my teeth from grinding together. Damn Jessika and her loose tongue. When I told her about my encounters with Nathan a few days ago on one of our lunch dates, I didn’t expect her to blab to my mom. Obviously I should have, though.
“It’s nothing serious, Mom.” I repeat what I told her the other day. I break off a piece of my roll and stuff it in my mouth.
“Maybe, maybe not, but it’s nice to know you’re seeing someone.”
“I wouldn’t really call it seeing someone.” My eyes go to Avery to find her making designs with her macaroni. I look at Dad, then back to Mom. “We’re just… hanging out.”
My choice of words is laughable and so inadequate, but it’s the best I can do. Even if little ears weren’t present, it would still be too weird to explain exactly what Nathan and I were doing. I don’t even really know. All I do know is that whatever it is feels so damn good, and I don’t want it to stop yet.
“Is it the same man as the other day?”
I scoop the last of my chicken in my mouth and don’t answer until I’ve swallowed.
“Yes.”
She nods, her eyes lighting up, but luckily doesn’t quiz me further. We make small talk until we’re all finished. My parents were never the type to make everyone stay quiet at the table. Growing up, dinner was the time we all told each other about our day, and it hasn’t changed. Dinner was always my favorite time of day because we were all together.
