“And why is that?”
Because I didn’t contact you while you were gone.Confusion churned inside me. I hadn’t texted him since Saturday. Intentionally. It felt like something that couples in a relationship would do. “We’re waiting until Christmas.”
“Fordating, Sara. I’d like to invest in our friendship now, but it’s feeling kind of one-sided.”
“It’s not one-sided. I’m completely in this, too.”
“Sorry, but I can’t tell.” Grabbing his jacket, he turned to go.
How did this escalate so quickly? I would’ve given him whatever he wanted in August. He could have what he needed from me now, if only I understood what that meant. I’d followed his lead, but I must’ve misread him badly, or he wouldn’t be walking away from me. “I don’t want you to leave. Please.”
He stopped. “Then explain to me why I’m the jerk when you’re the one who doesn’t try.”
“I can try. Just tell me what you expect.” I slid my arms around his waist and pressed my cheek to his back. “I never had to learn how to be a friend. I’m not good at it.”
“You managed this summer.”
“I’m an expert at starting things. I’m not so great at keeping them going.”
His jacket slipped to the floor, and his big, rough hands covered mine. “Friendship isn’t that hard.”
“It is for me. You seem to have rules for how this should go, and I don’t know what they are.”
“It’s pretty simple. When you’d like to talk to me, you talk. When you want to be around me, you show up.”
“What if I’m bothering you?”
“It’s not possible for you to bother me. I’ll always make the time.”
“Just like that?” My whole body was shaking. I couldn’t lose him. “Even if I don’t have a reason?”
“Weare the reason.” He spun in my arms and gathered me against him in a sweet, comforting embrace. “Whatever you need, just ask. Okay?”
I nodded against him. “I’m sorry, Scott. Please don’t give up on me.”
“That’s not possible either.”
The apartment grew silent as we stood there, holding each other.
Once my trembling had faded, he kissed my temple and then stepped from my arms. “You can trust this, Sara.” Moments later, the door clicked shut behind him.
The Tuckers stayed in Magnolia Grove for Thanksgiving. I cooked brunch. A ham frittata and pumpkin muffins, holiday favorites with a twist. It was as different from normal as it could be, and we were thankful.
I arrived at Scott’s home around one. The party had obviously been going for a while. The landscaping staff members had brought their families, so there were a lot of little kids. From a glimpse of the trash bags, most guests had already eaten their first round. I added my plate of cookies to the dessert table, confident it wouldn’t take long for them to disappear.
Since it was a mild, sunny day, the wide garage door at one end had been left open, filling the barn with natural light.
Scott pulled himself away from a soccer game—waving off the groans from his teammates—and hurried over to me. “I’m glad you came. Hungry?”
“For turkey, always.”
He grabbed my hand and dragged me to the tables holding the remnants of a feast. While I served myself, he put a slice of pie on his own plate.
A few minutes later, I pushed away my plate. “I’m full.” I took a sip from my tea. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Which you should know from our chat session last night.”
“We said a lot of nothing.”
