“Love calls.”
He turns quickly, disappearing from sight.
“Love calls?” I question.
Parker groans. “Yeah, like duty calls, but love instead. He’d never say Mom was a duty. Never. So instead of ‘duty calls,’ he says, ‘love calls.’”
Landon’s smile grows. “That might be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“They’re, like,in love,in love, aren’t they?” I ask, unable to fight my own smile.
“Grossly in love,” Parker confirms. “It used to be so embarrassing, but now…” A small grin graces their lips. “Now I really love it.”
I bet it was hard for them to have what they thought was love like that with Lincoln, only for it to turn out so wrong. The fear makes sense to me, maybe in a way it hasn’t before. Seeing a love like their parents’ and growing up in a house like this, with love and acceptance seeping into every square inch, must set the bar incredibly high.
And then to have it all ripped away? To be surrounded by love and acceptance and joy only to have the love and acceptance and joy you thought you’d found crumble around you? Devastating.
I stare at Parker’s profile, watching their sweet smile as they show Landon all the little knickknacks sitting throughout the living room, and my heart nearly swells to breaking point.
Stepping closer to the two of them, I interrupt their conversation by wrapping my arm around Parker’s stomach and tugging them back against my body. They let out a surprised noise. “What are you doing?”
“Hugging you.” I bury my face in their hair, inhaling their scent. “Your parents are amazing.”
Parker laughs. “Yeah, they are. I got really lucky.”
Landon’s face does something complicated, twisting up into a grimace before he has a chance to relax his features.
“You okay, Cutie?”
He nods. “I’m fine.”
He’s nervous. Nervous about talking to his mom, if I had to guess. “It can wait, you know. For as long as you need it to.”
Shaking his head, he sighs, and Parker reaches out to pull him into our hug. With Parker between us, I cup the nape of Landon’s neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I need to tell her. Putting it off won’t change anything. She’ll react how she reacts. I’m not ashamed. And I’m notwrong.And if she won’t accept that…” He shrugs.
“If she doesn’t accept that, then she’s missing out,” Parker says.
“Exactly,” I agree.
Shooting me a small smile, Landon steps out of our embrace. “Let’s go see what smells so good. I didn’t come here for dinner to think about my mom the whole time.”
I’m still worried about him, but if he wants to move on from the topic, there isn’t much I can do.
Parker steps away from me but takes my hand and then Landon’s before leading us into the kitchen.
I can’t help but smile as I take in the scene. Liz is by the stove, pulling the turkey out of the oven, and Bob is leaning against the counter, heart eyes out in full force. My parents are happy, and they love each other, but it’s nothing like this.
“Dinner’s just about done,” Liz says, carefully placing the turkey on the stovetop. “Once my honey gets the turkey carved, we’ll be ready to eat.”
Bob turns to us with a grin. “I’m not allowed to touch the turkey until it’s time to carve it. It’s a crime, really.”
Parker scoffs. “And why’s that? Don’t leave out the why.”
Liz laughs, the same light, musical laugh as Parker.
“I messed it up one year,” Bob says solemnly.
Parker drops our hands, turning to face us. “By ‘messed it up one year,’ he means he poked a hole in the bottom of the pan while Mom had mac and cheese baking underneath it. The juice spilled into the mac.” Scrunching their nose up, they shudder. “It was disgusting.”
