“Because I invaded your privacy. Because I was curious and I didn’t ask you about it first. Because it was my idea, not Gracie’s.”
“It’s not a big deal. It’s a house.”
“Or a mansion. An estate, maybe.”
“Are you going to hold it against me?”
“I think you’ve repented enough, so no.”
“And you felt guilty about doing it, so you worked yourself up about it.”
He knew me well. “Maybe.”
“It’s okay, really. Don’t feel bad about it.”
“I hate your parents,” I said quietly.
Again, silence on the other end. Was he debating about telling me more? Was he going to be upset with me for voicing my opinion? Would he defend them even after they’d done the unthinkable?
“You should get some sleep,” he said instead.
“What about you?”
“I’ll be okay.” The way he said it sounded like a trained response, borne from years of telling himself just that.
“Matthew,” I said desperately, “I’m sorry.” What I was apologizing for I had no clue, but it felt like something that should be said.
“Don’t be.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
We hung up and I returned my phone to the nightstand, even more confused now than I had been before we’d spoken. I shut the light off and sunk my head down into my pillow, clutching the sheet around me like a lifeline. I’d half a mind to go into the guest bedroom and wake up Gracie so she could talk me down. The way things were going, I’d be up all night running through my conversation with Matthew, debating what it all meant. But Gracie wasn’t exactly the most cheerful person when woken up unexpectedly, as I’d witnessed the morning Eric had appeared at her door. Perhaps she’d wake up on her own.
As if my wish had been spoken aloud and subsequently granted, I heard the bedroom door swing open. If I had been asleep, the slight noise would have been imperceptible.
“What’s the matter, hon?” I called out, rolling towards the door and expecting her to flip on the light.
The light didn’t come on, and the figure that stood in the doorway wasn’t hers.
Without a word, Matthew walked around the edge of the bed and climbed in, still fully clothed. He reached for me and I snuggled comfortably against him, his arm around my waist, my head upon his chest.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“So now I get the third degree for coming home?” he teased.
Home. He’d used the word home. My breath hitched at the gravity of the sentiment. Sensing that I was about to say something idiotic to ruin the moment, he gently pressed his finger to my lips.
“Home is wherever you are,” he explained. “The place you saw today was never my home.”
He ran his fingers through my hair as I bit my lip and tried not to cry.
“And you’re much too beautiful to ever hate anyone, but I appreciate you trying.”
I sniffled and he pulled me closer, kissing the top of my head and instinctively wiping the tears from my cheeks.
We said nothing more, each lost in our own thoughts as we finally settled into slumber together.
Chapter Thirty-Three
What a difference a year made. Last Thanksgiving, I’d been so nervous with making preparations for the holiday meal that I’d barely had the opportunity to enjoy myself. I’d been concerned with too many variables: Blake’s odd chaperoning of the event, Matthew’s general hesitancy to be put on display, Eric’s overwhelming stubbornness. Even if I’d had time to sit down and relax, the antics of that night would have discounted any feelings of success. By and large, my first attempt at entertaining in Fort Wayne had been a failure on the grandest of scales.
This fall morning, I awoke in Matthew’s house, wrapped in his arms. I’d set my alarm to go off as though I was getting ready for work. My intentions were to make sure the frozen turkey had completely thawed, assemble some of the side dishes so that I could just throw them in one of the ovens when I was ready and then hop back into bed.
Matthew slept soundly beside me, his leg thrown over mine. I wiggled out from underneath him without waking him. As I pulled on pajama pants and a sweatshirt, I studied his sleeping form in the mirror. My heart swelled as I realized he finally looked at peace, as if everything was right with the world.
It was a change that we’d both fought long and hard for. This year I had so many things to give thanks for, that being number one on my list. My being in his life could never erase the pain of his past or the things that he’d lived through, but he told me all the time that he was grateful for me standing beside him. We were a united front.
He was my home, too.
A soft moan came from the bed as he noticed my absence and he rolled over to face the wall. I vowed silently to return to him as quickly as possible and hurried into the kitchen to do my preparation duties.
Sunlight filtered through the kitchen windows, casting shadows across the concrete countertop and making my bleary eyes squint. I stifled a yawn and got to work setting out utensils, dishes and ingredients. Within minutes, the island was covered and resembled the aftermath of a housewares department that threw up. I shook my head at the mess, pretending there was a method to my madness. There really wasn’t one, unless you counted getting it done as the end goal. Cooking was a pretty automatic thing for me and I found my mind wandering as I flitted about.
Despite my reputation for having a killer work ethic, I was glad that I’d taken George’s advice and asked for the following day off. I’d made a chance mention of Matthew’s employer being shut down until Monday and my boss had eagerly suggested that I take the time off as well. It hadn’t taken much convincing on my part. I’d never had Black Friday off of work; even when I was in high school I’d worked retail and everyone knew that wasn’t happening. I’d always been the one at Thanksgiving dinner who’d wanted to cut things short so that I could get to bed early and go back to normal life. Of course Gracie now shared that fate with me, so I’d had a partner in crime for the past couple years.
I wondered what we’d end up doing tomorrow. Sleeping in was on the agenda, that was for sure. There was no electronics deal that would pry me out of bed at an ungodly hour. Since I hadn’t even begun to think about Christmas shopping for anyone anyway, there wasn’t any one item that I was looking to score a bargain on. Maybe we’d just spend all day in bed. That sounded nice.
“Need any help?” Matthew’s husky voice asked me from somewhere in the vicinity of over my shoulder.
I screeched and jumped, the baking pan that I was holding clattering to the floor.
“You really need to stop doing that,” I protested as I bent down to pick it up.
“But you’re such an easy target. And it’s so much fun,” he laughed.
I responded by swinging the pan at him. Instead of dodging the blow, which we both knew he could, he allowed me to hit him on the arm.
“Ow,” he whined, as though I’d really hurt him.
“Oh shut up,” I said with mock anger.
He took the pan from me and carried it over to the sink. He turned on the water and dutifully began washing it before he got into any more trouble. I surveyed the disaster area around us, searching for a suitable task to assign to him. One thing that hadn’t changed much in the past year was his prowess in the kitchen. We’d never quite gotten around to those cooking lessons I’d promised him.
“So what are you doing up?” I asked after I’d instructed him on how to put together the ingredients for the stuffing.
“Blake’s coming over bright and early,” he allowed with a shrug, “decorating or something. I thought if maybe I helped you out, we’d have time to ourselves before she got here.”
I smiled. “So there’s ulterior motives at work.”
“Always,” he agreed.
“And what time’s early?”
“I don’t know. A couple hours maybe?”
“Then we need to hurry,” I commented instead, “because I want to make sure we have plenty of time to ourselves.”
Even with his limited help, the undertaking in the kitchen went much faster with him there. In record time dishes were thrown together and put in the refrigerator for later. The turkey was loaded into the bottom oven and the dishwasher was running for the first time of the day.
I paused for a split second to admire just how good of a team we were only to be interrupted by kisses trailing down my neck. Matthew’s breath was hot against my skin, though it left goose bumps in its wake. I shivered reflexively.
“Cold?” he teased.
“Not exactly,” I demurred.
“Well then, I’d better make sure you stay that way.”
“Somehow I don’t think that will be a problem,” I responded as he took my hand to lead me back to the bedroom.
No matter how many times we’d made love during the past five months, there was a heady part of me that always felt like it was the first. A part of me that wanted to memorize every touch, every kiss, every breath and remember it for posterity’s sake. A part of me that was in awe that the electricity that I’d felt the first time he’d touched me – in Blake’s driveway on the day I’d moved in – hadn’t dissipated but in fact had intensified.
I stared into his eyes as we moved together, lost in their depths as they met mine head on. In the past I’d been jealous of his connection with Blake, the ability they had to have entire conversations without words. I realized now that we had that same link. I could read exactly what he was telling me and I prayed that my own eyes reflected the same. The love, the reverence, the promise of forever was clearly written on his face, causing me to melt deeper into his embrace, to return his kisses even more urgently.
He rolled us so that he was on top of me, my arms over my head, my wrists pinned against the mattress by his hands. I closed my eyes as we climaxed together, moaning softly as I felt him lower his weight gently down over me. His breathing was shallow and ragged, matching mine. With his chest pressed against my breasts, I was unsure if the rapid heartbeat I felt belonged to him or me; I imagined it was a little bit of both mixed together until it became indistinguishable. We laid that way for several minutes, him still inside me, as we both recovered.
We were jolted from our bliss by the sound of a knock at the bedroom door. Fortunately he’d had the presence of mind to lock it behind us when we’d entered.
“Hey, dork,” Blake called from the other side, addressing only him, “get decent and come out here.”
“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath as he pulled out of me and did what his sister instructed. Something in his expression led me to believe that this wasn’t the first time she’d caught him in this position. He didn’t seem embarrassed by her interruption, merely annoyed. I supposed they’d witnessed quite some interesting scenes given their romantic histories and their former living arrangements.
I giggled as I slid on my own discarded clothes. Within seconds we were dressed but obviously still disheveled. Holding hands, he reached for the doorknob and jerked it open.
Blake stood before us, fist raised as if we’d caught her just as she’d been about to knock again. She lowered her arm and took in the sight in front of her. A devious smile spread across her lips as she surveyed us.
“Good morning you two,” she purred, “I see it’s treated you well so far.”
“Sometimes I really regret not changing the locks after you moved out,” Matthew deadpanned.
He stepped out into the hallway to continue the conversation, but Blake shook her head and practically pushed me back inside the bedroom.
“I need to borrow my brother for a minute,” she said in explanation. “There’s something out in the truck that I need him to help me grab.”
“Okay,” I said in confusion, drawing out the two syllables as I contemplated what she wasn’t telling me. First off, if she’d driven her Trailblazer it meant that today’s decoration would be of epic proportions. Secondly, if she couldn’t get whatever it was out of said truck and therefore needed his help, how in the world had she gotten it in her vehicle?
She shot Matthew one of her patented looks, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow and gesturing with her head towards the front door. The ponytail that she’d tied her hair up into bounced perkily behind her. With her bare face and sweats, she looked every bit her former high school cheerleader self. If she wasn’t staring daggers at her brother to get her message across, I’d half expect her to cartwheel down the hall.
The image made me giggle under my breath, drawing their attention.
“What’s so funny?” Blake asked.
I sobered up immediately. “Nothing,” I squeaked.
“You’re right,” Matthew whispered into my ear, “she was totally the head cheerleader.”
I clasped my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing in earnest.
“Whatever he just told you isn’t true,” she countered.
“Yeah, it kind of is,” Matthew confirmed. His confession garnered him a smack on the arm. Unlike my playful attack with the pan earlier, I bet that this one really did hurt. He winced. “Be glad you don’t have a younger sibling. She’ll be the death of me yet.”
“Hah hah,” Blake fake laughed. She placed a hand on my shoulder and stared at me, much like she was trying to hypnotize me. “You need to get ready. Just-fucked hair isn’t an appropriate look when your father’s coming over. And wear something nice. It’s Thanksgiving.”
I wanted to ask her when I’d ever not looked presentable in front of her, present moment excluded, but swallowed the question down. I nodded instead. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Keep it up and I’ll hit you, too,” she warned. I didn’t doubt her.
I turned to go back inside the bedroom as she grabbed a handful of her brother’s t-shirt and pulled him in the direction she intended for him to go.
“Help me,” he called out as I closed the door, only half-joking.
I shook my head and consulted my cell. I wondered why she was so adamant about me getting ready this early. I still had cooking to do. I hadn’t really planned on showering and doing my hair and makeup until after everything was pretty much in the oven, lest I spill something all over myself. My family functions had always been pretty low-key, but even so I wouldn’t want to get food on my clothes and have to change again.
One thing I had learned about Blake was that you didn’t argue with her, though, so I pulled open the closet to dig through its contents. I assumed that something nice wasn’t how she’d rate the sweater and jeans I’d originally planned on wearing today. Maybe she was going to be taking more photos today for another scrapbook. I flipped through the choices on the hangers, finally settling on a dress in a rich chocolate brown color. It would be perfect for a fall holiday and of course I had a great pair of tall shoes to match.
That settled, I flopped my selection on Matthew’s bed, smoothing it out so that it wouldn’t wrinkle. I set the shoes over by the dresser and caught my reflection in the mirror. I finger combed my tousled hair, watching as it bounced right back into its messy state. Matthew was lucky; he could get away with that look, while it just appeared hideous on me.
My cell rang and I silently thanked whoever the caller was for the unexpected delay in the game plan. I was still convinced it was way too early to start getting ready. Unless Blake was implying that it would take hours for me to look decent, once I was done I’d feel more like sitting quietly on the couch so I wouldn’t ru
in things until everyone got here.
“Hey, Gracie,” I chirped after seeing her information on my display, “what are you up to?”
“Getting ready to come see you,” she said, “in fact, I’m about there already.”
“What? I thought you were coming with Dad.”
“That used to be the plan,” she allowed, “until Blake called me.”
“So she’s ordering you around now, too?” I asked, slightly amused. I sat down on the bed, careful not to disturb the dress. “She got over here a little while ago and you’d think she’s running the whole show. She practically kidnapped Matthew.”
Gracie laughed. “I’ll bet she did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? And why are you coming so early?”
“Well, if you really don’t want me there, I suppose I can go back home,” she replied, intentionally not answering the first and most important question.
“You know I want to see you,” I said quickly, “so just stop.”
“I think she wants me to run interference. I believe the exact instructions I was given were to keep you confined to the bedroom while she set up some stuff.”
“But I’ve got to cook!” I protested, “That’s what Thanksgiving is all about. You know, food.”
“I’ll handle that. Knowing you, everything’s already in the fridge waiting to be popped in the oven.”
My silence verified that she was correct. She laughed at my anal-retentiveness. I breathed a sigh of relief that at least Gracie would be in charge of the food detail. If I had to rely on Blake to finish up things for me, I might as well concede defeat and just make some frozen pizzas.
“Anyway, I thought you deserved a little warning before I showed up. So I’ll be there in a few and I’ll just let myself in, okay?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Blake said she’d leave the door unlocked for me. I didn’t want to scare you and have you hit me over the head with a lamp or something.”
“Good thinking on your part. You know I’m dangerous with small appliances.”
She laughed and we hung up, leaving me even more confused than before.
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