“On whether you’re willing to accept my choice and accept my girlfriend.”
A pregnant pause ensues for a few beats. “I didn’t give Stevie a chance, and I understand your anger and frustration. I’m willing to make amends now. If you’ll let me.”
Relief flows through my veins and the corded knots in my shoulders relax a little. “I would like that. Stevie would too.”
Stevie hates how fractured my relationship is with my mom, but she acknowledges I had no choice, and I know she’s pleased I defended her. Yet, she can’t help feeling guilty. What she doesn’t understand is, I don’t have the same kind of relationship with my mother that she has with hers. I never have. It would be sad not to have my mother in my life, but I’d get over it. I have Dad and Dawn, and Dawn supports me fully on this. Dad doesn’t like rocking the boat, and he’s been encouraging me to try a mediation approach, but I knew this was my best shot at getting through to my mother, and it appears to have worked.
“Wonderful. Thank you, darling. I have missed you so much. Perhaps we could have lunch on Sunday? Just the two of us?”
“I’d like that.”
“And I’d like to invite you and Stevie to dinner here with Winston and I on Thanksgiving.”
I alternate special occasions between my parents, and it’s Mom’s turn to share Thanksgiving with me this year while I’ll be with Dad for Christmas. “I will ask her.”
“Make sure to do it soon so I can instruct the caterers.”
“I’ll ask her tonight, and speaking of, I need to go.” I grab Stevie’s flowers and wine and my jacket off the back of the chair in my bedroom. “I have a gig, and Stevie won’t want to be late for work.”
“I won’t keep you, darling. Be here at one on Sunday, and you can update me then.”
* * *
“This is a good thing,” Stevie says, reaching across the console to squeeze my hand as I drive us to the bar where we’re both working tonight. “I’m so glad she has come around, for your sake. I hate coming between you and your mother.”
“It was never your fault.” I lift our conjoined hands and kiss her fingers.
“I know, but I was still the reason.”
“What do you think about Thanksgiving?”
“I’ll talk to Nana and Mom, but I think they’ll be fine if I’m not there this year. Nana usually invites a few friends and neighbors, so they won’t miss me too much.”
“That’s highly debatable, but I won’t say no if it means you get to spend Thanksgiving with me.”
“Your mom has extended an olive branch, and I’m not going to turn it down.”
“Thank you for being so gracious about this. I know she hasn’t made it easy.” I park the car outside the bar and lean over to kiss her.
She clings to my chest, angling her head and kissing me deeply. “I’m happy for you, Garrick,” she says, smiling at me when we break apart.
“I love you.” I peck her lips as Manford appears in the corner of my eye.
“I love you too,” she replies, rolling her eyes as Manford makes kissy faces at us through the window.
“You’re an idiot,” I say to the bartender when I hop out and race around the hood to open Stevie’s door. As much as he likes to wind me up, I like the dude. Thankfully, he’s nothing like his cousin Cohen.
I wanted to knock the fuck out of my ex-friend when Stevie showed me the nasty text he sent her the day that photo of Pepper and me aired, but my girlfriend talked me off the ledge, convincing me ignoring him is the best way of handling him. And so far, she’s been right.
“I want an invite to the wedding.” Manford waves his finger between us. “I was the one who played matchmaker after all.” He puffs out his chest and grins, not sensing the glimmer of tension crackling between me and my girlfriend at the mention of a wedding. I haven’t gone there again as it’s a very touchy subject.
Stevie is skittish.
I understand why, and I know I’m abnormal.
It’s unusual to know you want to get married this young.
But when you have found the girl of your dreams, why wait is my motto. I’m only holding back because I don’t want to scare Stevie off.
