Page 88 of Reggie and Delilah's Year of Falling

He groans. “You’re killing me.”

“I know.” I stand up and smooth down the plaid T-shirt dress that I put on just for this occasion. As much as I want to stay here and get lost with Reggie, I also know how important today is. I’ve only had quick greetings and conversations with Reggie’s family until now—it seems like we’re always on the way to somewhere else. But today I’m going to spend the whole afternoon and evening with not just them, but his whole extended family at his grandma’s place in Artesia. It feels like a test, and I don’t want to mess it up. I want to show this boy that I maybe, probably love that I can fit right into his life.

He smiles up at me from the couch like I’m some kind of treasure. “You look great. They’re gonna love you.”

And I hope you do, too.

Reggie

Inviting her to Thanksgiving dinner was sorta like a deadline for myself. I’ve been avoiding having her and my family in the same room for too long up until this point. I didn’t want my parents to show how embarrassed they are of me with their head shakes and heavy sighs, or Eric to mock me mercilessly while I just stand there and take it, therefore revealing what an actual nerdy loser I am and losing her respect forever.

But there’s no hiding at Thanksgiving. Not with the people that have been there for everything.Everythingeverything, like the time I was six and my cousin Jerry stepped on my Baneslayer Angel Magic card, making me cry so much that snot was bubbling up and dripping down my face.

They know me, the real me, and they’re not about to let anything go.

So I knew I would have to come clean with Delilah about my insecurities and how I really navigate through the world: cautiousand quiet instead of the boldTake me as I amfront I’ve been projecting to her.

But then I just... didn’t.

The moment never felt right. There was always a reason not to.

And also, there’s the fact that... I think I love her. Well, IknowI love her. And every time I thought about being completely honest with her, my chest got tight and my stomach felt sick because it’s possible that she’ll decide she doesn’t want me anymore. That she’ll walk away.

But still, I know I need to let myself be vulnerable with her. I need to show her all of me and give her a chance to accept that person instead of this façade I’ve created.

First, though, I have to get through this dinner. And then I’ll tell her that I love her, and hopefully everything else I’ll tell her won’t be such a big deal because she’ll love me too.

Delilah

My nerves make my insides feel all twisted as we walk up the path to the little orange, Spanish-style house, but they vanish as soon as Reggie’s grandma Lenore flings the front door open.

“Is that my Reggie? Look at you, walking up here like a little adult. And now who is this beauty you’ve got here with you?” She doesn’t wait for an answer before putting her arms out. “Both of you, come give Grandma a hug.”

Grandma Lenore is wearing a velvet, floor-length green kaftan with golden curls piled high on her head, and her smooth brown skin is probably right there in the encyclopedia next to the term “Black don’t crack.” She is fabulous. Reggie had explained to me before that she’s not his grandma by blood, just through marriage, but some of her spark has definitely transferred to him. They’re both bold and secure in themselves in the same way; there’s a family resemblance there.

She pulls us into a tight hug, and even though I just met her, itdoesn’t feel fake. There’s real love there, as she smiles and winks my way when Reggie introduces me as his girlfriend.

And walking into her house is like getting another hug. It’s full of people—warm and welcoming, lively and loud. There are kids in the corner, playingAnimal Crossingon their Switches and arguing over an Uno game. Reggie’s aunties and his cousin Jerry are finishing up the food in the kitchen, shouting instructions to each other over the beeping of timers, and the sound of hearty laughter and dominos slapping down sound like thunder coming from the garage, where his uncles and dad are congregated. The sound of the football game, playing on three separate TVs, is the constant soundtrack to it all.

“Oh, Delilah!” Reggie’s mom greets me with a bright smile, the same as Reggie’s. “I’m so happy you could spend the day with us.”

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Hubbard,” I say, pushing down all the nerves that come with talking to my boyfriend’s mom. This boyfriend that I probably love. “My mom wanted me to pass on her thanks for your hospitality.”

“Oh, you don’t have to thank me!” She leans in close and adds in a mock whisper, “Because I don’t even do any of the work. One potato salad incident years ago, and now they don’t even let me in the kitchen. Who’s to say if it was on purpose or not?” She laughs and raises her eyebrows, and I join in, my nerves melting away.

“Now, I need to get your mom’s number—”

“Yeah, I really don’t think that is necessary,” Reggie cuts in with a smirk.

She playfully pops his shoulder. “Yeah, me and Delilah’s mom are ’bout to become real good friends, I think. We need to be comparing notes, spying on y’all, with the two of you getting so serious.”

I look at Reggie to see how he reacts to that, and the steady look and slight nod he gives me back makes all the tension drain out of my body. If I told him I loved him... I think I know how he’d respond.

“Now let me introduce you to my brother, Ed. He’s going to adore you!” Mrs. Hubbard puts her hand on my back and spends the next hour touring me around to all the relatives. And when we all stand in a big circle, holding hands to say grace before the meal, Reggie squeezes mine extra tight, meaningfully, and it really does feel like I belong right here.

There are so many people that everyone can’t fit at one table, so we end up at an extra one in the living room with Reggie’s brother and cousins: Eric, Jerry, Lenore (named after Grandma Lenore) and Wally—and their boyfriends, Alex and Kieran.

I try to follow their conversation as I work my way through my massive plate filled with turkey, ham, mac and cheese, greens, and candied yams. (The food feels like a hug too.) Their talk is like a dance, or maybe even a boxing match—but one between two old friends that ends in a handshake. They go from something innocuous, like the USC vs. UCLA game last week, to roasting Wally’s “paddle feet” in seconds, and I feel like I’m gonna pull a muscle in my neck twisting it back and forth, trying to keep up. They all seem to take it and then dish it out right back, though, like whenEric is teasing Lenore over her “bougie gap year” and saying she thinks she’s better than them. Lenore grins slyly and says, “I got an A on that English 100 midterm paper that I know you totally bombed, so it seems like CSULB agrees I’m better than you, too.” And Eric just laughs, taking a big bite of stuffing and nodding his head.

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