“On his way,” I say. “Hey, Mom, do we have any more of these sweatshirts from last year’s walk? Tanner was asking.”
“I’m not sure. I can check.” She walks out of the room.
“So, you're really living with your boyfriend,” my dad says, making Cody laugh.
“Yes, Dad. I’m really living with my boyfriend.”
“I’m fine with it. I just want to make sure you’re protecting your heart. You were devastated when Chad broke it off with you.”
“Tanner’s not Chad, Dad.”
“I believe you. He seems like a very fine young man. You’re just my little girl, and I want you to find someone who will love you wholeheartedly.”
I giggle thinking about the conversation Tanner and I had the night after the hospital. “I can assure you he does.”
“Oh, will you leave her alone,” my mom says, walking back in. “I couldn’t find a sweatshirt, but I found a T-shirt.” She lays it across the back of the leather chair.
A knock comes from the front door, and both my parents yell, “Come in!”
“Good morning, Dawsons,” Tanner shouts as he walks into their house, holding the small gift bag.
“Morning,” my parents say in unison.
He walks over to me, kisses me on the top of the head, and then walks over to Cody. “I got you a little something, man.” He sets the bag on Cody’s tray table, holding it steady while my brother removes the tissue paper. Tanner helps him pull out a small box, and Cody’s face lights up.
“What is it?” I ask.
He begins to type, and I wait for his response. “Thor thank you,” he says.
“You’re very welcome.” Tanner spins the box around, and it’s a special edition Funko: Pop! Thor figurine. “I figured he needed the best superhero on his shelf,” he says, laughing.
“How thoughtful,” I reply with a giggle. “Everyone will be here soon. Should we start moving the boxes upstairs?”
“Let’s do it.”
Tanner and I make our way downstairs to the basement to begin moving the boxes. As we pass by the leather recliner, I grab the shirt. “I had my mom look for a sweatshirt and she couldn’t find one, but we had some T-shirts,” I say, tossing it in his direction. Catching it, he smiles.
“A T-shirt is perfect.”
He pulls the shirt he’s wearing off in one motion. His back muscles flex as we descend the stairs. “What are you doing?”
He stops at the bottom and pulls Cody’s shirt over his head. “I figured I’d wear my new shirt.”
“No, you’re not. We are not one of those couples that matches our clothes.”
“We could be.”
“No!” I laugh. “That’s so lame.”
“Too late. You gave me the shirt, and I’m wearing it. I think we look cute.”
“You think we look cute?”
I reach the bottom of the stairs. “Well, I think you look cute, and I like the shirt. Plus, think about how stoked Cody’s gonna be when we go back upstairs matching.”
“You’re—”
“Insufferable?”
