Page 68 of True Blue

I sigh. “I love you,” I say, eyes falling closed against my will.

“Love you,” Bentley responds.

“I love both of you,” Janette says through a yawn. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

I chuckle, snuggling closer into her before falling asleep.

32

Family surrounds me and I sit quietly in the middle of it all, just taking in the feeling. Uncle Jack sits at the head of the makeshift table, made up of the Cliffords’ six-seater dining room table and a long folding table set at the end to extend the seating room. The folding table falls about an inch under the wooden table, leaving a little drop off in the middle underneath the mismatched tablecloths I helped Layla set up this morning to try to make it seem like one joined table. Bowls and trays of food cover every inch of the tables, our plates and glasses crowded in by the salt and pepper shakers, butter platter, gravy bowl, covered bowls filled with way too many Hawaiian rolls, and Axel’s hot sauce, which he has put on everything including the mashed potatoes.

I sip my glass of lemonade, hiding a smile in it as I laugh at Layla complaining that Axel cheated when he won the longer piece of the wishbone a few minutes ago. Their grandparents outright laugh across the table from us, and Uncle Jack tries to look stern at the head of the table, suppressing his own smile with a cough. Bentley shakes his head, hand holding mine in his lap as he leans back with another hand on his distendedstomach. Gwen throws a roll at her brother when he starts telling Layla that she should have practiced all year like he did. Aunt Tati’s sister, Beth, sits beside her, leaning back and holding a glass of red wine.

Beth smiles happily at the twins, and I startle a little at how the fondness on her face reminds me of her sister. When I was younger, I thought she looked nothing like Aunt Tati. With her hair cropped short and dyed blonde as well as her shorter, slight frame, she looks almost like a complete opposite to the dark featured and willowy tall woman I grew up around. But as the day goes on, I've noticed little things that remind me of Aunt Tati. The way she holds the wine glass against her chest. The set of her mouth. The way she brushes her bangs off her forehead every now and then.

Her mother is the spitting image of an older Aunt Tati. I met her a few times when I was a kid, but she lived in Florida then, so they were rare occasions. Layla told me in an early email that she moved up to Maine after Aunt Tati died, wanting to be closer to them and help Uncle Jack. Her demeanor is the major difference between her and Aunt Tati, sitting quietly and only sharing comments here or there rather than feeding the energy of the room like Aunt Tati seemed to always do.

Axel’s arm lands across the back of my chair and he leans over to kiss my cheek. His grandmother practically has stars in her eyes, watching the gesture.

The three of us talked about what we were going to do today and if we were going to hide the fact that all of us were together in front of Axel’s extended family. No one, not even Axel, was sure what the right move was here, and it was Layla who overheard us and told us all we were being stupid debating it. She said if we were going to all be together there’s no point in hiding it now since everyone would find out in the long run and then rolled her eyes and walked out of the room.

So, we just decided to be how we always are. And it has been surprisingly easy to just act on what we naturally feel, sitting together at the table and sharing small touches here and there. And Beth and Axel’s grandparents have been nothing but nice to Bentley and me, Axel’s grandmother going so far as to tell us we all looked good together and swoon every time she caught a sweet moment between us.

Snow drifts to the ground through the window beyond the table, and the doorbell rings suddenly upstairs. We all turn to look up the staircase set into the middle of the room, the last step marking the separation line of the kitchen and dining room.

Uncle Jack stands up, wiping his hands on a napkin before heading toward the stairs. “This better not be another one of my son’s partners.”

Axel raises both his hands while we all chuckle. “I don’t have any more, I swear.”

His grandfather leans across the table to ask Bentley about what his plans are for after college, but I don’t hear anything after my ears pick up Uncle Jack’s voice.

“Sandra?” he says in disbelief.

“Hi, Jack,” my mother’s voice responds, sounding off. The tone is almost sheepish, but I can’t imagine the woman I lived with in Georgia ever sounding anything other than perfectly poised outside of our house. “Is Janette here?”

I get up, scraping my chair back in the process. Bentley and Axel each turn in their chairs to look up at me, the whole room suddenly quiet. Buzzing rings in my ears and I start to head toward the stairs without realizing I told my feet to move. Two chairs scrape on the floor behind me and I turn, finding both my guys at my back.

I shake my head. “I’ll be okay. Promise.”

Bentley nods, stepping back, but Axel grits his teeth, eyes on fire. Bentley puts a hand on his shoulder to hold him back andI nod to him, mouthingif I need youto him. He nods once, clenching and unclenching his fists.

I walk up the stairs, Mom seeing me past Uncle Jack when I'm halfway up. I hold her gaze, pulling on all the strength I know the guys would give me if I asked them to. She chews her lip, leather gloved hands pulling on the hem of her coat sleeves. I walk up next to Uncle Jack and start to pull my coat off the hanging rack next to the door. Uncle Jack places a hand on my shoulder and I turn toward him.

“You okay?” He looks right at me, my mother watching the two of us. I nod and he searches my face before patting my shoulder and turning back to Mom with a hard look. “Sandra,” he says with a single sharp nod before turning around and heading back downstairs.

I slide on a pair of boots, not even sure whose they are, stepping out of the house and onto the porch and shutting the door. Mom steps back to put more room between us, still watching me carefully. Folding my arms to keep myself warm I squint at her in the sunny glare off the piling snow. “What are you doing here, Mom?”

She sighs, wringing her hands together in front of her. “I wanted to come talk to you. I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened yesterday.”

I glance behind her, seeing our old house across the street and feeling a sharp pang in my chest. “Yesterday was a long time coming. Five years in the making really.” Mom flinches, looking down at her shoes and nodding.

“I know,” she whispers. “I realized that today.”

A long pause wanes on between us before she takes a deep breath.

“I wanted to come talk to you, try to explain some things and apologize for others.” She glances back at the house, bottom lip starting to tremble. The pang in my chest starts to throb asshe continues. “I never meant to cut you out, Janette.” Mom looks back at me, eyes shining. “When your dad…when they…” Closing her eyes, she takes another deep breath, shaking out her shoulders.

I squeeze my hands together.

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