Page 78 of One Night

"Is it homework or other stuff?"

"Both, but most of it's for the clubs I belong to. The holiday time is the worst. From now until Christmas break, there are parties and mixers and luncheons and dinners. And I not only have to attend them but also plan them." I sigh. "I should've stayed home last weekend."

She sits next to me. "You did what you should've done, and that's spend time with Dylan. And don't try to say you didn't have fun because I haven't seen you that happy in years."

"I DID have fun. And I love spending time with him, but now I have to pay for it."

It's Monday morning and I have class in an hour but I've been working at the kitchen table since five a.m. Yesterday, I was supposed to stay home and get stuff done, but in the morning, Dylan called and I wanted to see him. I had to. I couldn't even go a whole day without seeing him. So I went to his apartment and surprised him. He was more than surprised. More like shocked, given my insistence on not seeing each other.

I tried to make up some excuse about why I had to go over there, saying I wanted to know how his song was coming along, but he could see right through my lame reasoning. So I just admitted I went there to see him. Why hide it? He knows how much I like him.

We went out for brunch, which was all we were going to do, but then of course we couldn't say goodbye and ended up spending the entire day together. He dropped me off at ten last night and now I'm trying to catch up on my to-do list, which didn't get touched last weekend.

"Don't you ever get tired of this?" Kira asks, picking up one of my folders and dropping it back in the pile.

"Sometimes I do, but you know me. I go crazy when I'm not busy."

"You weren't busy last weekend. And as far as I know, you didn't go crazy."

"What are you talking about? I was busy."

"Not doing work. Watching TV with Dylan? Going running with him? Going out to eat? I hate to tell you this, but that's called relaxing." She leans toward me. "You, Amber Moore, relaxed for an entire weekend." She sits back again. "Might be the first time that's ever happened."

I pause to think. "Oh my God, you're right. I did nothing for two whole days. I was lazy. I've never been lazy."

"You weren't lazy. Lazy and relaxed are two different things. And you needed to relax. You've been running nonstop since I moved here last August. I don't know how you do it, but you need to stop, or at least slow down. It's not good for you to never relax."

"This coming from someone who works out for hours a day."

"Yeah, but I work out with Austin. It's something we both like to do. It's another way for us to spend time together. That's what you and Dylan need to do. You need to find activities you can do together."

"I can't spend every minute with him. We're already interning together. That should be enough."

"But you're not really together when you're working."

My laptop pings, bringing my focus back to the invites I was sending out. "Kira, I can't talk right now. I have to finish this before class."

"And I have to head to the gym." She stands up and goes over to the counter. "Found this under the door." She hands me an envelope.

"How'd he have time to write a letter? And drop it off?"

"Guess he makes time for things that are important." She smiles and walks away. She's hinting I should make time for Dylan, and it's not that I don't want to. My schedule just doesn't allow it. That doesn't mean he's not important to me.

The envelope is square, like there could be a card inside. Opening it up, I find a piece of heavy cardstock, and on it, he's written the following.

Dear Amber,

The Mickelson Family requests your presence at Thanksgiving dinner this Thursday, to be served at two in the afternoon. The dinner will feature such favorites as Roasted Turkey, Apple-Sage Stuffing (Grandma Mickelson's secret recipe, God rest her soul), Creamy Mashed Potatoes (made by yours truly), Cranberry Sauce (from a can because nobody ever eats it but you have to have it), Green Bean Casserole (my dad's specialty), and Pumpkin Pie (the kind you buy in the freezer section but my mom always pretends she made it).

The meal will last approximately one hour because my grandpa's dentures never stay in place and it takes him forever to eat. But in that hour, you'll be entertained by my dad's lame jokes, my mom repeatedly asking you if the turkey was too dry, and my little brother making fart noises but telling everyone it was his chair squeaking. And if that's not enough, you'll have me there, and as you know, I'm always entertaining. I might even break out in song.

Your RSVP is requested by tonight. Dana Mickelson (my mom), needs to know if she'll be setting an extra place at the table. She takes her place settings very seriously. It's one of the few times of the year she actually decorates the table.

Have I enticed you yet? If not, I'll add that I really want you to come.

Love, Dylan

"I can't go," I say to myself.

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