Aidan's mouth draws into a hard line. He doesn't say anything about his parents, and the air around him grows tense. He does this sometimes, and I can't figure out why. I've asked, and he's given me a bullshit answer about how his parents’ great love story gets old sometimes. I've never pushed to know the real reason, but I’m still curious.
“I told her we'd pick up a pie on the way over.” He looks apologetically at my mother. “We should probably get going. I called a grocery store that's on the way and they are closing in thirty minutes.”
“Of course, of course. I understand.” Mom reaches out with her free hand and sets it on Aidan's shoulder. “Thanks for bringing my girl out to see me.”
“We wouldn't miss it, Annette.” Aidan brushes a quick kiss on her cheek.
Mom pats the spot where he kissed. “You're going to make this old lady blush.”
Oh Lord.
“Well, we’d better go,” I say, kicking into gear and grabbing my bag from the counter. I wind it over my arm and hug my mom.
“Thank you for today, Mom. It was good to see you.” She winds her arms around me, and guilt hits me right in the stomach as I inhale her familiar scent. From now on, I'm going to make more of an effort to come up here and visit her. And I’m going to force Sydney to come too.
We leave, the door swinging closed behind us. Aidan rubs his palms together and then blows into them.
“Brrr,” he says, shaking his shoulders to emphasize the word.
“What happened back there?” We climb into the rental car and quickly close the doors. It's at least forty degrees outside.
“What are you talking about?” Aidan starts the car and puts it into drive.
“You. Getting tense about my mom and I swooning over your dad’s awesomeness. Do you really hate relationships that much that you can't handle us swooning over your parents?”
“No, Natalie. I do not hate relationships.”
“Could've fooled me,” I grumble, my upper lip lifting on one side.
“Are you snarling?” Aidan looks at me with tight lips, like he's trying not to laugh.
My own lips rearrange into a smile. “Not on purpose.”
Aidan reaches over and lightly tugs my bottom lip. “Maybe I should call you raccoon. Some kind of small fierce animal.” He takes his finger away from my lip and snaps his fingers. “Honey badger! That's what you are.”
“I prefer if you just call me Best.”
“Boring,” Aidan draws out the word as he says it. “Honey badger is definitely better.”
“If you ever call me honey badger, I will bludgeon you.”
For the rest of the drive to the grocery store, we argue about his new nickname for me. I know what he is doing, and I also know that I'm letting him do it. He doesn't want to talk about whatever it is that upset him, and I don't have the heart to force him. For right now, in this moment, we are just us again.
13
Aidan
I feel like an ass.
I stood there in the kitchen, both women overcome with the idea of my dad’s romantic gesture, and I couldn't keep it together. I don't hate love. What I hate are lies.
The store has plenty of pumpkin pie, but my mom will still be upset. It wasn't just a pumpkin pie. It was her special maple pumpkin pie with cinnamon graham cracker crust. I don't remember a Thanksgiving that didn't have that pie. I also don't remember Thanksgiving where I didn't get up in the middle of the night and sneak downstairs to have a slice. Grabbing a basic pumpkin pie off the top of the stack, I make my way to the cashier and then out to the car where Natalie sits, waiting for me. I left it running with her inside so she would stay nice and warm.
“Here.” I hand her the pie.
“Last one?” Natalie takes it from me and holds it in her lap.
“Yeah, last one,” I say sarcastically. “We almost had Thanksgiving without pumpkin pie.” I look over at Natalie. Her eyes haven't stopped being curious since the moment I walked back into her mother’s house after the phone call.
