“Daddy’s okay, baby. I had all that pizza last night, and we ate dinner earlier. Daddy’s belly is not a hungry, hungry hippo.” He leans across the bed and pokes my tummy, making me giggle.
He climbs on the bed and settles in on his side. I run the train up and down the bed, making choo-choo noises. Daddy tries to balance one of my stuffies on the train, but it keeps falling off, which makes both of us laugh.
We continue to play around the room for another hour. Daddy sits on the floor with me and plays bumper cars with the stash that keeps growing. It’s taken me a while to really get into playing with cars, but nowadays, I enjoy them a lot.
Daddy has me count how many cars I have. Twenty-one cars and four trucks. Daddy had the trucks run over all my cars and smash them, but I saved all the people by tackling Daddy to the floor.
“It’s after nine now, baby. Time to get ready for bed. You have a big week ahead and need your sleep.”
“Snuggles?”
“All the snuggles, just for you.” Daddy helps me into the bed, and we cuddle together under the blanket. I’m already so used to Daddy sleeping next to me. Away games are stinky because I miss having Daddy pressed up against me.
“Thank you for being amazing this weekend,” I say. I’m still half in my Little headspace, but definitely coming out of it as we lay together. Daddy brushes his hand up and down my back and Ihook one leg to rest between his. “I don’t know how I would have handled the situation if you weren’t there.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Daddy replies. “I love spending time with you and Owen.”
“We love spending time with you, too,” I whisper back to him with a smile.
Chapter Sixteen
“HappyThanksgiving!”Mombeamsas she swings the front door open. She throws her arms out wide as she accosts my boyfriend with a hug before looking down at Owen with a warm smile. “Can I hug you, too, sweetie?”
This isn’t the first time she is meeting them, but I’m glad she’s asking permission before hugging Justin’s kid. Owen, being the sweet boy that he is, smiles and nods. “I like hugs.”
“Like father like son,” I murmur as an aside to Justin. Then, as Owen starts to squirm in my mom’s hold, I sigh dramatically and playfully complain, “I see how it is. No warm hello for your own son.Noooo. Only for the cute ones.”
Owen giggles and my mother releases him, only to straighten up and roll her eyes at me. “But I get to hug you all the time. These are new victims. I mean,family.” Before Justin can protest the inclusion, she points her orange-painted manicured fingernail at him. “And you are family now, Justin. Regardless of how your relationship with Gabe goes, you’re also Mandy’s friend and Owen is Brian’s best friend, so you’re going to be stuck withus no matter what.”
Justin’s voice is a little strained when he says, “Thank you,” and I squeeze his hand to let him know I understand his emotional response.
“Geeze, Mom,” I tease, buying Justin some time to process and pull himself together, “we’re not even inside yet and you’re making things weird. This is becoming a habit with you.”
“So sue me if I want Justin and Owen to know they’re always welcome here,” she plays along, but takes a step back so we can cross the threshold. “I might rescind your standing invitation if you’re not careful, though.”
“I should be so lucky—ow!” Dual smacks land on each of my biceps.
“You deserved that,” Mom says, having delivered one of them.
I turn to glare at my Boy, and he just nods. “Be nice to your mom, D-Gabe.” His cheeks turn pink at his near slip-up and I find it so adorable that all thoughts of punishment evaporate.
“Fine,” I huff. “But only because it’s Thanksgiving and she’s feeding us.”
Justin snorts. “Uh-huh.Onlybecause of that.”
Mom ignores us, instead taking Owen by his little hand and telling him that Brian and the other kids are all outside and can’t wait for him to join them. It’s a stark contrast to the way his biological cousins and grandparents have been treating him, and I know Mom is being very clear about his inclusion because of his previous experiences.
“That’sthe real reason you need to be nicer to your mom,” Justin speaks softly and gestures in my mother’s direction with his chin. His eyes have turned sad, but there’s a gentle smile playing on his lips. “She’s awesome. You’re lucky to have her.”
My throat feels a bit tight all of a sudden, so I clear my throat and squeeze his hand again. “Weare.”
***
Thanksgiving dinner at my parents’ house is informal and raucous. Mom and Dad have dragged the inside dining table out under the back porch, lining it up end-to-end with the outdoor table so there are enough seats for everyone. The kids have their own tables and chairs in the yard.
Even though Mom organized the meal as a potluck, she also cooked a heap of stuff herself, so the kitchen bench inside is overflowing with various dishes for everyone to choose from, buffet-style.
Most years, Marshall, Noah and Izzy join me here, because they all live away from their families, but this year my only guests are Justin and Owen. The guys are off doing their own things, and that does make me a little bit sad because, this time next year, we’ll be scattered to the winds as college graduates.
