“It’s okay if something did happen,” Belinda says, patting my knee. “We remember our younger days, too, you know.”
Gilbert’s eyes twinkle in agreement.
Foxgags[3].
My lips twitch.
“We’ve actually been wanting to talk to you two about this,” she says, turning off a riveting rerun ofLittle House on the Prairie. “The entire town has been on my phone for weeks, asking me about your relationship, and we decided to give you guys some space to come to us when you’re ready, but… well, the town is two feet wide. There’s hardly any space to give.”
Fox stares at them. In his living room. At seven AM. Uninvited.
Clearly, they are doing every single thing they can to give us the time and space they’re implying we need.
Clearly.
With a grumble, Fox moves to the kitchen, where the muscles in his back bunch enticingly as he pulls ingredients out of thefridge and cabinets. Gil joins him, and Belinda and I follow, taking spots at the barstools across the counter.
“I’m in love with Poem,” Fox tells his parents. He says it swiftly, like taking off a Band-Aid. “She’s deciding if she’s going to love me back.” His shoulders tense as he braces himself, robotically dumping super ultra protein pancake mix into a big, teal mixing bowl.
Belinda’s shock and joy become a palpable weight in the air. “Oh my gosh!” she squeals.
Gil cracks an egg into the pancake batter bowl, a smile blooming on his lips.
Belinda twists to engulf me in a hug. “Poem! This is amazing!”
I hug her back while Fox stiffly drops a generous cup of mini chocolate chips into the batter.
“Um,” I hedge. “Isn’t this a hugging Fox kind of moment? He’s the one with the news. I haven’t made any decisions yet.”
She scoffs. “Absolutely not. You’re the one receiving the best gift of your life.” She pulls back but not away, squishing my cheeks between her hands. “I’m so happy for you, my girl. I can’t think of a better man for any woman to be loved by than Fox, and I can’t think of a woman any more worthy of his love than you.” Her sky-blue eyes well with joy that tips over to leave wet droplets on our tangled knees. Shakily, she says, “I know you’ll make the right choice in the end. I have faith in you.”
“The right choice?” Fox asks before I can scrounge together any sort of response. “You think the right choice for her is me?”
Gil tilts his head at his son, plastic spatula scraper thing held aloft. “What other good choice would there be?” he asks. “Only someone supremely stupid wouldn’t want to be with you, and Poem’s no dummy. Even if she does like to antagonize you every now and then.” He shrugs. “She has eyes, though. She can see you’re a good looking man—like your father—and a catchbeyond that. You’re smart. You’re caring. You’re a hard worker. You take care of your people. Heck, you take care of not your people, too.” He waves an arm at the apartment. “You clean.” He tips his head at the stove. “You cook. And more than all of that, you love with your whole being, not just your heart. What more could Poem want?”
Well… when he puts it that way…
Huh.
Hm.
Mm…
My breathing quickens as his words sink further into my psyche, drilling holes through paper-thin defenses.
Oof.
Slowly, bravely, Fox asks, “You guys… don’t think I’m an irresponsible idiot who needs to do better? Even after I broke a guy’s nose like… three weeks ago?”
Belinda drops my face to hold her own, horrified one. “Fox! Of course not! Your dad said Greg deserved that broken nose, and we should be proud of you for giving it to him. The exact opposite of whatever nonsense you just spewed.”
Fox blinks like… thirty times. “Oh,” he says, intelligent as ever.
Gil shakes his head, then gets to work folding the chocolate chips into the pancake batter.
Belinda glares at him. “Gilbert, fix your son’s nonsense.”
“We love you,” Gil announces promptly. “And we think… well, all of that stuff I just said. Don’t insult us by thinking otherwise.”
