“I’m actually passing through Baton Rouge. But I’m on my way home.”
Her mother’s gasp comes through the phone. “Oh, that’s perfect! You can still make it in time for supper.”
“I would, but I have the dogs with me, and I know how you feel about animals in the house.”
“And I’ve already told you that Frankie and Oscar are welcome here any time,” Mrs. Bergeron replies.
“Thanks, Mom, but really?—”
Claire drops off in the middle of her excuse when she realizes we’ve stopped moving. I shift my truck into park and look at her expectantly.
“What are you doing?” she demands.
“Waiting for you to tell me which direction we’re going,” I reply as if it’s a silly question. “You know I don’t have a navigation system in here.”
“Sorry, Mom, can you hang on one second?” She hits the mutebutton before her mother can answer. “We’re going home,” she tells me.
“Not when we’re already so close to your parents’ house. She’s your mom. She misses you. And you miss her.”
“I didn’t say I missed her,” she grumbles.
“You didn’t have to.” I flash her a warm smile. “Come on. You know you’d rather do this with me.”
Her jaw lowers slightly, which I take to mean I’m right. “And have to explain our weird situationship to them? No, thanks.”
“There’s an easy fix for that,” I drawl, and her breath hitches this time.
“Like you’d even agree to lie to my parents and pretend we were actually …” She shakes her head.
“Who said anything about lying?” I reply evenly.
She opens her mouth, no doubt to shoot down my idea again, but she can’t seem to get the words out. Each time I leave her speechless, she plants a little more hope within my chest. I think she’s finally realizing that it’s different now, that I can see how hard she’s trying to stuff her feelings for me into a box, and I’m waiting patiently for her to give up and let them spill over.
“Claire? Are you still there?” her mother’s voice calls out from the phone, and she unmutes it to speak.
“Yeah, uh, sorry.” She pauses and swallows hard. “Would it be okay if I brought a friend over for dinner?”
Her eyes dart over to check my expression, so I do my best to look aloof and confident.
Nothing to see here, just my calm reaction to the love of my life bringing me home to meet her parents …
“Of course, sweetheart. Any friend of yours is welcome here.” Her mom’s voice trills with excitement at Claire’s tentative acceptance of her invitation. “It’s not … Jeremy, is it?” she adds hesitantly.
Claire coughs out a laugh. “No. Jeremy and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms these days.”
Her mom hums, and I can’t tell whether she’s disappointed or happy to hear that news. “Well, I guess we’ll see you in a little bit,then. And don’t worry about bringing anything other than your friend, and your fur babies, of course.”
“Oh, um, one more thing. Can you please make sure everything is peanut-free? Rowan’s allergic,” Claire asks.
“Rowan? The cute doctor with the rash … from Nana and Pop’s anniversary party?”
She glances my way again, catching the smile that spreads across my face at her mom’s recognition. “Yeah. It’s kind of a long story.”
Mrs. Bergeron lets out a soft chuckle. “No Reese’s. Got it.”
“Thanks. See you soon.”
She hangs up the phone and silently gestures in the right direction, and I turn the truck around and head toward her childhood home.
