Page 111 of The ABCs of You & Me

“How grateful I am for you.”

His arm tightens around me, and I feel a soft kiss in the exact same place he’d kissed me the first time. “Same.”

While Foster spends Saturday morning with Pete, I bustle around my house, trying to put everything in its place before my parents arrive for brunch. As I throw a tote of random things into the corner of my room, I take a minute to look around. Piles of things here and there. Some big, some tiny, but it doesn’t matter the size; they all cause me anxiety. Things that have proper places, but I can’t seem to ever put them in those places. A constant battle.

I’ve spent the better part of the week staying with Foster, and I see myself fitting in almost too well there. There’s a small pile of my laundry in the one corner and two chapsticks, three books, and two half-consumed glasses of water next to the bed on the side I sleep on.

He hasn’t said a word. No passing remarks that make me paranoid about what’s to come. I can’t stop myself from worrying, though. You don’t spend five years burying passive-aggressive comments under the rug without tripping over it now and again. It takes a lot of mental power to stay in the here and now once he’s snoring softly beside me. While he sleeps, I worry. If this implodes, it’s not a matter of years ruined. It’s our shared history tainted forever.

Five minutes before my parents are set to arrive, I pull all the ingredients we need to make brunch out of the fridge. I have no doubt they’ll show up with bread my mom whipped up this morning and probably some butter. My stomach growls at the thought.

I hear my dad’s voice instead of a knock. “Favorite daughter!” he calls from the front door. I hurry out to greet them.

“Favorite father!” I throw my arms around him and sink into the best hug around.

“No Foster?” my mom asks after hugging me.

“Deal-breaker?” I wince.

“Of course not, but we always like seeing him. You two didn’t…” She mimes breaking a stick, and I laugh.

“No, he’s training a student. He’ll be here later.”

“What kind of training?” my dad asks as he carries bags through to the kitchen.

“He’s helping him train for a marathon. What’s with all the bags?”

“Oh, isn’t that the nicest thing? He’s a good egg, that one,” Mom gushes as she starts removing loaves of bread and tins from the bags. “I brought some things for us to try for the book. I dropped things off to Cass, and to Marley and Bennett as well. I figured between all of us we can start narrowing it down.”

“So we aren’t cooking brunch now?”

“Nah.” Mom shakes her head. “I thought this would give us time to chat too.”

“Chat about what?”

My dad looks between us and clears his throat. “Your mom and I were talking after you left last weekend, and it dawned on us that how you are with Foster was never how you were with the other one.”

“The oth—Gregory?”

“We don’t really need to say his name.”

“Okay.”

“I, we didn’t see it. I was so confused when you told us you’d broken up because things seemed so good. I mean you never let on even, and I’m not saying it’s your fault,” Mom adds quickly. “Only that I wish I’d...” She runs her hand over her stomach like she’s feeling for something. “I had a feeling early on, but you were beaming and I ignored it. I should have said something.”

“I wouldn’t have listened,” I assure her. “It took me months to see the truth.”

“I wish I’d known for sure.”

“Wewish we’d known,” Dad says quietly.

I wish they had to. If they had, then maybe I wouldn’t have spent five years in a relationship that got worse so gradually I didn’t realize it until recently. My parents and I have always had open communication, and I’m realizing now that I let them down. The tears start before I realize, and I feel both of their arms wrap around me.

“I’m sorry we failed you,” my dad whispers, and the tears fall harder.

FORTY-NINE

FOSTER

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