I wasn't prepared for the explosion I knew was probably coming.
His mom came back with dishes of green beans and stuffing and arranged them on the table.
Then she took her seat at the end opposite Nate's dad and smiled warmly.
At least I had her support, even if her husband was adamant that I had no place at this table.
"Shall we say grace?" she asked, and her eyes were firmly fixed on Mr. Bradley.
Nate glanced at me, and I could see the unease in his eyes.
It didn’t make me feel any better to know he, too, was anxious.
We bowed our heads while Nate's father offered a brief prayer thanking God for the meal and the blessings of family.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
I was seated at a table where I felt like I'd never be truly accepted as family.
I wondered if he'd meant it as a jab, but I was too timid to ask.
Besides, it wasn't the right time to bring something like that up.
When he finished praying, Nate started dinner by serving himself a heaping portion of potatoes and passed the dish to me.
I took it awkwardly, still afraid to look up from my plate but thankful for something to do with my hands.
I took small portions of everything despite having some mild nausea tonight.
I knew I had to eat, though, and I knew Nate would scold me if I didn't.
"The turkey is so amazing," I said to Nate's mother after taking my first bite. "So juicy… Thank you so much for inviting me."
"Of course, dear. You're family now." She glanced at Nate's dad, whose lips pursed as he cut into his meat, but he didn't return the glance, nor did he look up when she said, "We're glad to have you here."
But he did grunt under his breath, and I couldn’t tell if that was disapproval or disagreement—probably both.
"How are you feeling, Ember?" Nate's mom asked. "Nathan mentioned you've been struggling with morning sickness."
Her tiny bites came between forced smiles.
I could feel the tension in the air around this table like a ticking time bomb, like every interaction was forced.
"It's been challenging, but the medication's helping." I set down my fork and wiped my mouth to be polite. "I'm learning to manage it better."
"Pregnancy's never easy, especially the first time." I felt some of the tension ease as she smiled at Nate and my shoulders loosened a little. "I was sick for five months with Nathan. I could barely keep down water, let alone food."
"I didn't know that," Nate said, chuckling.
"You were too busy making me miserable to care about the details."
When she joined me in laughing, I felt more of the pressure ease off my chest and glanced at Nate's dad who still hadn't taken a bite.
He seemed to prefer stabbing his meat with his fork and knifing it to a pulp.
And when my gaze met Nate's, I could see the apprehension knitted on his brow too.
I tried so hard to eat, took little nibbles while nausea roiled around my belly, and I watched Nate's food disappear slowly, bite by bite.
