“After you open that wine, nothing.” I patted his ass and leaned in close, whispering in his ear, “And quit eyeing the countertop like that.”
His cheeks reddened, and his throat dipped with a swallow. “Can’t help it.” He set the open wine onto the table.
Doing a double take of us and holding a stack of dishes, Malik said, “What’s so interesting about the counter?” His brow arched.
“Nothing. Set the table like a good boy.” With a quick laugh, I started on the stuffing, grabbing a new pot from the cupboard. I would miss having this holiday with them. It was unfortunate we didn’t have Casey and JJ here, but they had new families to enjoy the holiday with.
After the Thanksgiving meal,I sat with Wren on the sectional, watching Green Bay take on the Lions while Malik and Texcleaned the dishes. Wren had offered, but he was this year’s guest, and I wouldn’t let him. “Hey, when do you want to call your mom?” We both needed to make the obligatory phone calls home, and I didn’t care who won this game.
He sipped his wine, a Pinot Noir that had indeed gone very well with the meal. “Now? I want to get it over with.” With a long sigh, he peeked at me from under his brown bangs.
“You don’t seem happy about it.” I wrapped an arm around his shoulders. I knew he hadn’t met with his therapist this week. But he had spoken with his mom. “Want to call your mom in my room?” I glanced behind us at Malik and Tex, joking around and banging pots while they cleaned. They were noisy bastards.
“Yes, let’s do it. I wanted to begin with something my mom said first, though.” He fingered the stem of his wineglass.
“What’s that?” I studied him. This situation with his parents was eating him alive. He’d been stuck inside their feud for weeks. “Do you feel you’re reliving their divorce all over again?”
With a slight nod, he said, “Yeah, a little. But my mom said my dad might be a narcissist. I looked it up online and…” He shook his head. “It’s not a good thing.” His gaze swung to mine. “What do you think?”
My brows ticked up. “I’m not a therapist and, more importantly, I’m nothistherapist. It’s easy to self-diagnose people, but it can also be destructive. You should keep what you know about it in the back of your head, but guard against it influencing your discussion.” I brushed my fingers across his shoulder and gave him a small grin. “And don’t call him that if you talk to him.”
His lips parted as his gaze darted between my eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. When I looked it up, it resembled him, but then again, it didn’t.”
“Let’s go call your mom.” And after, maybe we’d have a friendly chat with my family. I needed to see what my sister was doing and inform them about Wren. “Wren, I’d like to put you on FaceTime and have you speak with my parents as my boyfriend.” Hell, how had we not done this already?
His eyes grew wide. “You do?”
“Yeah, it’s about time.” I twisted my lips. What would they think about it? They’d met him in high school, and Mom knew about us. “They’ll be surprised as fuck.”
Wincing, he said, “Your mom knows what happened in high school. Will she be mad?”
“Naw, it was so long ago. Don’t worry about it.” Hell, I’d barely had time to speak to my parents at all this year. “Let’s go.” I stood, peeked at Malik and Tex, scrubbing the broiler pan, and snatched Wren’s hand, hauling him toward my bedroom.
Once inside the room, Wren slipped his phone from the pocket of his joggers. “I’ll make the first call because it’ll be the easier one.” He threw me a swift grin and called, setting the phone on speaker.
The phone rang once. “Hi Wren, happy Thanksgiving. I was just about to call you.”
“Yeah? Well, good timing. Hey, I’ve got you on speaker with Eli. I’m eating at his house with his buddies.” He dropped onto the end of my bed.
“Oh, hello, Eli. Will you be coming home for Christmas with Wren?” she asked.
“Yes, I will.” Stepping closer to the phone, I said, “I’m looking forward to spending the holidays together, like old times.” I hadn’t spoken to her since high school, but it was as if it were yesterday.
“Great, I look forward to seeing you,” she said. “Wren, have you spoken with your father lately?”
“No, Mom. I’m still trying to figure out what I should say.” He tensed his lips. “Plus, I was sort of seeing if he’d call me.”
“Oh, well…” She breathed deeply into the phone. “The baby was born last week. He possibly didn’t call because he was busy with that.”
Wren stiffened and clutched at his sweatshirt over his heart. “Wh-what?”
With an ache wavering through my chest, I sat beside him,draping an arm over his shoulders. This wasn’t good. His father should have at least called to let him know his baby brother was born.
“Yes, the baby was born about five days ago. They should be home from the hospital by now. Your Aunt Nadine called me with the news.”
Should I say something? But this was family business. “Wren, are you okay?” I pressed a kiss onto his cheek.
“Oh no, Wren, is this upsetting for you? I’m sure your father will call you soon. I’m sorry. I guess I should have called you with the news, but I just thought…Anyway, he’s probably just preoccupied,” she said.
