He nodded and patted me on the back. “I was your mom’s friend too, at one time. How it starts.”
“She’s a little skittish,” I whispered while eying the hallway. “Just don’t say anything—”
“I won’t.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Promise. I’m glad you brought a friend over for dinner. The four of us can only make so much conversation.” He winked before rising from his chair to grab a piece of bread.
“Okay, everyone. Let’s eat.” Mom laughed when her eyes landed on Phil. “Just in time. Sara, this is my husband, Phil.”
“We’ve met.” Phil smiled at Sara. “Nice of Andrew to bring a chef home for Thanksgiving.”
“Tell me about it. She’s great. Next time you come over, you’re bringing that shrimp bisque you were telling me about.” She squeezed Sara’s shoulder and motioned to the table. “Sit anywhere you’d like.”
I patted the seat next to me with a crooked grin. An easy smile spread across her cheeks and stole the air out of my lungs. Friends aren’t supposed to do that to you. I was running low on denial about my true feelings for this woman. Probably because they grew stronger by the minute. I knew it, my family knew it, and she knew it. But she wasn’t running, at least not yet.
“So, Sara, what kind of chef are you? Like, do you bake or cook?” Phil asked her as he scooped sweet potatoes onto his plate.
“I bake, but I’m learning cooking techniques at school. I transferred my credits from my old school, so I only have a year to go until graduation.”
“Oh, so you’ll graduate the same time as Andrew.” Mom noted from the other side of the table. “Do you know where you’d like to work?”
Sara speared a piece of turkey with her fork and nodded. “There are a few restaurants in the city I’ve been applying to around Midtown Manhattan.”
“Only there?” My mother asked. “I used to love the restaurants in the Village downtown.”
“Well, my daughter lives in Queens with her father . . . for now. But I’d like to work and live close, so she can stay in her school and stay close to her father. The commute from Queens to Midtown Manhattan is quicker than downtown.”
“Oh, for sure! Andrew’s father lives in Queens. That’s about what, a four-hour drive from here?”
“It is. I’d planned to make the trip before I had to work.” She forced another smile and shot me a weary side glance. I wrapped my arm around her before I could help myself.
“But, you’ll still have Christmas together.” I squeezed her shoulder, lingering long enough for my mother to raise an eyebrow at us.
“I’m sure it’s hard to be away from your daughter today. When Andrew was little, I had to work a lot of holidays. I always hated it, but you have to do what you have to do. She appreciates it, even if she grows up to not visit as much as she should when she goes to grad school less than twenty minutes away.” Mom narrowed her eyes at me, and Sara and I both laughed.
“This final project is killing a lot of my free time. I’ll get better, I promise.” I gave her a guilty grin.
Mom scowled at me but couldn’t hide her smile. “Bring Sara and some shrimp bisque and I’ll forgive you.”
Sara sipped from her water glass and didn’t acknowledge Mom’s request. I’d gladly bring her back if she wanted to come with me. In a few months she’d be back in the city with her daughter, and my time with her would be over. If I had any sense of self-preservation, I’d keep her at a healthy distance but, as Sara liked to point out to me, I was a foolish man—at least when it came to her.
After dinner, I followed Sara into the kitchen. She promised my sister she’d make real hot chocolate from scratch instead of the packets we all grew up on. Mixing bowls and utensils brought her a peace nothing else did.
“I told you they’d love you.” I snuck up behind her and snaked my arm around her waist. She leaned into me, forgetting herself for a moment I supposed before taking a half inch step away.
“You have a great family, Drew.” She reached for the cocoa powder and sprinkled it into the bowl without meeting my eyes. “Do you see your father for holidays?”
“I may go to Astoria after Christmas. I haven’t decided. I’d like to see my grandmother and cousins. Not that I don’t want to see him, but he never makes much of an effort. How about you? Do you see any family for Christmas?” I stepped beside her to gauge her reaction. She stopped mixing and placed both hands on my mother’s marble top counter before lifting her eyes to mine.
“I haven’t spoken to my family in years. Since before Victoria was born. They always thought of me as the screw up, and the whole knocked-up by a one-night stand thing confirmed it. My little sister has been trying to contact me. I don’t know how she found my number, but she sent me a Happy Thanksgiving text this morning. I miss her, but I don’t know how to respond. It’s been such a long time, you know?” Pain washed over her features and squeezed my chest. “I promised I’d find a way to see her, but I was so busy with Victoria and the zillions of jobs I had over the years that I never did. I’m a little afraid to face her.” She sniffled as she kept her focus on the bowl in her hand.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into her hair. She stilled, her eyes pinching shut as if she were in pain. “I knew there was something since you’ve never spoken about them, but I didn’t know that.”
“None of them have seen Victoria. I’ve sent pictures, but I don’t know if they even bothered to open the cards I sent. You’re lucky, Drew. The only unconditional love I’ve ever known was from my daughter. When she came along, she gave the stupid little life I had some meaning.” A humorless laugh passed over her lips. “Being without her, trying to be something without her . . . it’s hard, Drew.” Her voice cracked again.
“I think you’re doing just fine. Amazing, in fact.” She rolled her eyes with a groan.
“I’ve cried to you yesterday, almost just now—I’m a mess. You’re too nice, anyone ever tell you that?”
“Sometimes.” I shrugged. “You deserve more. Youaremore. I’ll convince you one day.”
