“I have no idea how you keep such a steady hand,” Rachel tells my mother. “You know, with you being ancient and all.”
Mom guffaws. “Careful what you say, or I’ll laugh too hard and ruin these candy canes.”
“If she’s ancient, what am I?” Jocelyne responds, pretending to clutch her non-existing pearls.
“Decrepit?” Mom volunteers.
All three women burst into laughter, and I can’t help but chuckle to myself as I finish up the plate.
I bring it over to them with an infectious smile on my face.
“Here you go, ladies.”
“Are you trying to give me diabetes?” Rachel exclaims, her eyes going wide at the sight of the plate filled to the brim with nanaimos bars, macaroons, fudge squares, marshmallow rolls, and sugar cookies.
“We only make these once a year!” Jocelyne reassures her. “They haven’t killed you yet.”
“Yeah. Yet.” Rachel looks up at me with wide, innocent eyes, her hands still under Mom’s care. “Love, would you mind feeding me a nanaimo?”
I oblige, feeding her a bite of the layered treat. As she closes her eyes to savour it, I take a moment of my own to close my eyes and bask in the moment.
When things between Rachel and me got serious, I was definitely nervous about her meeting my parents. They can be a lot for some people, and not everyone is comfortable with how intensely my mother can love.
But I had nothing to worry about.
Not only did Mom and Rachel get along great at first, but their bond has only gotten stronger over the years.
Yes, Rachel got a bit annoyed when my parents helped us move into our first apartment downtown together once we graduated from CEGEP and got ready for university. Mom got it in her head to be helpful and unpack all of our kitchen stuff,only, the way she placed things wasn’t how Rachel would have done it.
But she knew Mom meant well, and she waited until my parents were gone to reshuffle everything back to how she wanted it.
Rachel isn’t just the love of my life. She’s everything to me. Having her in my life, from the very beginning, has felt as natural as breathing.
In the moments when all the doubt and guilt threaten to bring me under, she’s there to remind me that I’m on the right path. She’s even kept my involvement in the Ubisoft competition secret from my parents, at my demand.
I graduate at the end of the school year, and soon enough, I’ll have to let my parents know what I truly intend for my career path. I’m not ready yet—I don’t think I ever will be, even when it’s time—but knowing I’ll have Rachel to lean on soothes the terror that’s been haunting my nights.
Speaking of the Ubisoft project, I should check up on our group chat.
I feed Rachel the last bite of her nanaimo bar, holding on to the sound of her laugh, before excusing myself to the guest room area upstairs. I left my phone in our room, at my father’s insistence, but I’ve been itching to check in with the guys and make sure nothing’s come up.
We’re only supposed to reconvene on January 7th, at the start of our final semester, but not working on this project has been leaving me filled with nervous energy.
Once I find my phone lying on my bedside table, I turn it on, and my heart sinks all the way to my feet at the number of missed notifications.
Blood pumping, I read through them all. Every new message sends another pinprick of adrenaline down my spine.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
They want to reconvene before the new year. Derek has just gotten a surgery scheduled in February, which means we need to finish our next prototype earlier than expected.
What am I going to tell Rachel?
What am I going to tell myparents?
I don’t realize I’ve been sitting on the bed, in the dark, nearly hyperventilating, before Rachel slowly walks through the door and gasps. She rushes to my side.
“Karan! What’s going on?” Her soft hand slips under the fabric of my shirt to stroke my back in a calming motion.
