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I’d been up since 5:00 a.m. cooking a turkey and prepping casseroles and mac and cheese. So not only was I a ball of anxiety, but I was also tired as hell.
Weston had worked the last twenty-four hours and was due here this morning after he went home and showered. But I couldn’t complain. I knew what I was getting into with his odd hours and luckily he’d had to work the day before Thanksgiving and not on the actual holiday.
Still, him not being here to soothe me didn’t help my nerves. I’d worked up a whole bunch of scenarios in my head where Scoots’ mom didn’t like my food or my daughter.
I was mashing sweet potatoes for yet another casserole when Parker came into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” she asked, picking at some of the candied pecans I had on the counter that were supposed to go in my casserole and not in her mouth.
“Out of the nuts, Parker,” I said, popping the top of her hand quickly before going back to mashing.
She wiggled her brows at me and smiled. “Come on, Mom, you know I don’t like nuts really anyway.” She giggled.
I bit my lips to keep from laughing. “That was a terrible joke,” I pointed out to her.
It seemed like since Parker had come out to me and, really to the world now, she was more secure in herself. She was making many new friends at school and I’d even gotten it out of her that she hadn’t had her first kiss yet.
Prisha and her still weren’t back on good terms, but Parker didn’t seem as bothered by it anymore. She was moving on. We all were in different ways.
“So, I have a question,” Parker said, dancing around the kitchen in her PJs, and I wanted to scream. I didn’t have time for questions and she needed to get dressed. We were having company soon.
I didn’t know whether to be thankful she could now walk on her booted foot or not. The girl was driving me crazy.
I also needed to get dressed. I was still wearing my own version of pajamas, which was a pair of leggings and a T-shirt.
But I kept mashing and gathered some patience for my girl. “What’s up?”
She gave me a tentative smile that told me she wanted something. Bad.
“So, a few friends are going to the movies tonight and I was wondering if it would be okay if I went, too.”
Oh, that was easy. I nodded. “Sure. What time were you thinking?”
“Well,” she said, taking a deep breath, and that was when I realized she hadn’t gotten what she actually wanted yet. “I was hoping you would let me take the truck tonight.”
Oh, God. I could not deal. My baby had gotten her license a few days ago and I just wasn’t ready to let her drive alone yet even though I knew she was more than ready.
“I don’t know, Parker. Do we have to do this today? I’m already really stressed out about Weston’s mom and dad coming over.”
“You don’t have to worry about that, Mom. West said they already love you and once they taste your sweet potato casserole, they’re never going to let you go.”
I smiled. She was sucking up because of the truck. But she was also right. My pecan casserole was stellar. “I’ll think about letting you go tonight but only if you go take a shower and start getting dressed. Put on something nice, yeah? Weston will be here soon.”
She jumped up and down and gave a little squeak. “Really?” she asked.
I nodded, knowing I was going to let her ass go even though it was going to kill me to do it.
She ran off and I heard the shower cut on and about ten minutes later I heard Weston at the front door.
“Knock, knock!” he yelled, already in the house. I smiled. He’d made himself at home here lately and I wasn’t mad about it. He spent more time here than he did at his place and it was really nice. Even Parker loved him being here in the evenings after school.
I quickly finished covering the sweet potatoes with the candied nuts and some brown sugar and tossed the dish in the oven.
Meeting Weston in the living room, I started fluffing the pillows on the couch. “Hey. Listen, your parents will probably be here in two hours. I still need to do a few more things in the kitchen like work on the dressing and gravy, and then I need to take a shower and God, I probably need to run a vacuum.” I eyed the corn chips on the living room floor from Parker last night and tried not to scream.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Weston said, coming to stand in front of me. “Why don’t we take some deep breaths and calm down?”
“What?” I yelled. “I don’t have time for deep breathing, West. Did you hear me? Your parents will be here soon and I still have to shower and vacuum and finish things in the kitchen.” I was beating the shit out of a flat pillow and he was looking at me like I’d lost my damn mind.
