Page 88 of Resist

Mom and Dad had finished putting all the dishes on the table by the time they emerged from his room.

Mom smiled when she saw Ainsley in her pajamas. “You look so adorable in those, you’re going to have to keep them.”

Ainsley smiled softly. “They’re really comfy.” Then her eyes widened as she took in the table. “You madeallthis food?”

Mom gestured to him and Dad. “Well, I had some help from my sous chefs. Come on. Let’s sit down and eat.”

Coulton and Ainsley claimed one side of his rectangular table, Mom and Dad sitting across from them. They began passing the dishes, Coulton loading Ainsley’s plate with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, a buttery roll, and cranberry sauce.

“There’s no way I can eat all this,” she said, as he poured a healthy portion of gravy on the meat, potatoes, and stuffing.

“Try,” Coulton murmured.

She immediately went for the stuffing, and Coulton couldn’t help but grin because that was a solid start. He dreamed of his mother’s homemade stuffing, always joking that a huge pan of that and a tub of gravy would be his last meal if he was ever on death row.

“This is delicious,” Ainsley said.

“The secret to good stuffing,” Mom confided, “is to cut the toast into very small chunks.”

“The secret is bacon,” Coulton amended.

“Hear, hear,” Dad agreed, raising his wineglass.

He was grateful to his parents for keeping the conversation going. Ainsley’s hunger was only surpassed by her exhaustion, so while she tucked in, moaning and closing her eyes in bliss after nearly each bite, she clearly wasn’t up for talking.

So Mom and Dad did what they did best. They read the room, decided to put their “get to know his girlfriend” conversation off until later, then took up the task of keeping things light and easy by regaling Ainsley with silly stories from Coulton’s childhood. Ainsley listened with great interest, laughing at all the funny parts. She even asked a question or two.

With nearly two-thirds of her plate gone, Ainsley finally hit the wall. He’d watched her try to hide three yawns in a row.

Rising, Coulton held his hand out to Ainsley. “Bedtime, wildcat. You need sleep.”

Ainsley accepted his hand, offering no argument. “Thank you so much for dinner,” she said to his parents. “It’s the best food I’ve ever eaten.”

From most people, that compliment would just be words, but Coulton knew Ainsley meant them most sincerely.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Mom said.

“Me too,” Dad piped in. “Because the four of us are going to be eating the leftovers for days.”

They all laughed, then Mom moved in, giving Ainsley another hug. “I’m so glad you’re here with us.”

“So am I,” Ainsley replied. She gave Dad a wave and turned toward Coulton’s room.

Coulton hung back. “Thank you,” he said softly, for just his parents to hear.

“She’s wonderful.”

Coulton smiled. “She really is.”

“Go, be with her, son,” Dad encouraged. “She’s just lost her dad. She shouldn’t be alone. Your mother and I will clean up.”

Best. Parents. Ever.

He nodded his thanks again, then walked to his bedroom.

Ainsley was standing by the bed, looking like a lost puppy.

“Okay?”

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