He made himself look up and across the table. His mom’s eyes were glistening, though there were no tears on her cheeks, and her expression was indeed filled with a deep sadness. God, he just wanted to make her happy. He wanted a way to make her happy.
I love you, Mom.That would make her happy.
But he couldn’t say anything.
Aunt Tanya stood and cleared the plates from the table, and Uncle Jon left to help her. Then both of them came over and said goodbye to Rye and his mom. They didn’t insist on hugs tonight, and that was good—he’d have gone right over the edge then, hurtling into the darkness with nothing to break his fall.
But as they were walking out the door a moment later, a horrible thought hit him.
Thanksgiving.
The holiday was in only a few days. He’d known that, of course. They’d been talking about it at dinner, and even Jake had mentioned it when they were at the beach. There was going to be a lot of people—a full house, his mom had said. And just like he’d managed to tell Jake earlier, there would be a lot of people he didn’t know. A lot of people who would expect things of him.
Like hugs.
And talking.
And answers to questions he couldn’t answer.
And they’d tell him he was too thin and that he needed to eat more food.
And they’d probably tell him how much he used to like turkey and mashed potatoes. And pumpkin pie.
He wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not even for a minute.
He lifted his eyes up as his mom came back to the table and sat in the chair next to him this time. She said something, but the words didn’t even make sense. They were fuzzy and jumbled. She repeated herself, but he had the same problem.
So he just nodded. And then she smiled and reached over slowly to pat him on the shoulder.
“Good, good,” she said, her voice soft now. “And I’m sorry if I sound so excited about it, but having you home is the best gift I could have ever asked for. There’s... so, so much to be thankful for.”
The little bit of panic in his chest flared up. What had he agreed to? But his mom was quick to keep talking.
“I hope it won’t be too much for you. Thanksgiving, that is. It will be a lot of people, and...”
It will be too much, Mom. It will be.
He knew his expression had tightened when his mom pursed her lips and shook her head slowly.
“Oh, sweetie, is it? It all is, isn’t it?”
And the stupid fucking tears started falling again, down his cheeks. Hot, wet tears that he shouldn’t be crying. Damn stupid child.
“Shh, no, sweetie. You’re okay. Everything’s okay. Breathe with me, okay?”
He did. He took deep, slow breaths, and when her hand settled gently on his back, he focused on its warmth and weight. After another few minutes, his mom spoke again.
“Should I cancel?” she said softly, and there was a note to her voice that tugged at him. An honesty. An understanding. “It’s okay, Ryan.”
Something inside him shuddered, and he held back a sob.
“It’s okay if it’s too soon. It’s okay.”
“I-I don’t want to... make you sad,” he admitted, finally finding at least some words.
He remembered the conversation with Jake earlier and how Jake had said he hadn’t wanted to tell Steve he wasn’t up for the party because he knew Steve just wanted to do something nice for him. Steve hadn’t known that Jake just needed more time to adjust to his situation first. If Steve had known, maybe... maybehe’d have been just as happy hanging out with Jake without a bunch of other people. And maybe it was the same for his mom. Maybe if his mom just knew...
But she couldn’t know if he couldn’t find the words to tell her.
