Page 99 of The Boyfriend List
My dad waves away the formality with a chuckle instead of soaking up the respect like I expected him to. “None of that. You can call me Roger.”
“Okay… Uncle Roger.” She holds up the bag of snacks. “I brought some treats for everyone. Where can I put them?”
Just then, Mom enters the kitchen, her hair still in curlers but the rest of her outfit immaculate as always: a red blouse tucked into tan slacks with a brown leather Ralph Lauren belt. She smooths invisible wrinkles out of her top. “Gloria! London! I wasn’t expecting the two of you to be here so early.”
All my siblings are here already, so I doubt the veracity of her statement. It’s more likely that she lost track of time while getting ready.
“I brought snacks,” Gloria repeats, looking more anxious by the minute. I step closer to her and rest my hand on her back, silently willing her to calm down.
“Thank you so much!” Mom takes the bag and looks inside. “Oh, I love White Rabbit candy.”
The two of them have that in common, at least.
“Gloria, London, could I talk to you for a moment in private?” Mom nervously fidgets with one of the curlers still in her hair, pulling it out of her hair in what I can tell is her trying to be inconspicuous. “In the hallway, maybe?”
“Of course.” Gloria’s shoulders loosen slightly and I imagine she’s looking forward to getting this awkward conversation over with. As am I.
Mom clears her throat, fiddling with her watch. “Gloria, I wanted to apologize for everything I said to you when you came to visit us for Thanksgiving so many years ago. I could see how he looked at you–like you were the one he was going to marry and wake up to every morning, the one he was going to be with for the rest of his life. And that… terrified me. I’ll be honest, I’ve always been protective over London, not just because he’s my youngest but he’s always been the closest to me.
“I didn’t want to lose him, and I thought if he married you one day, he’d be gone from my life forever. I never should have tried to control his life, or hurt you in that way. I can see now that you are good for him. And I can tell that I can have no greater happiness for me than seeing my son happy. So Gloria, I’m so sorry for how I treated you and making you feel like you weren’t good enough.
“Will you forgive me?”
Gloria takes a deep breath. “I–I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything yet,” I assure her.
Her spine straightens. “I appreciate your apology. I… I want to forgive you, and move forward.”
“Thank you,” my mom says, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “I hope that one day… you might want to be part of our family, dysfunctional as we are. And I hope you know that when that day comes, I will welcome you with open arms.”
Gloria’s smile is small, but genuine. “I would like that.”
“Now, let’s go back to Thanksgiving dinner. I’m worried your father will burn the stuffing,” she jokes, a twinkle in her eye.
“Hey! I heard that!” he says from the kitchen, but it’s a more jovial tone than I’ve ever heard from him.
A lump swells in my throat as my mom walks back into the kitchen. Gloria makes to follow her, but I stop her.
Grabbing her hand, I tug her towards me. “I love you, you know that?”
Her brown eyes sparkle as she steps closer to me, pressing a feather-light kiss to my lips. “I know.”
Epilogue: Gloria
Ten Months Later
"London, why are we here?" I ask as he turns on the blinker to get off the freeway. We've driven even further than we did when we took his nieces horseback riding. "You said you had a 'fun, romantic date' planned, and taking four bathroom breaks in the past seven hours is notfun."
"We're almost there, and you wouldn't have to take four bathroom breaks if you hadn't drunk so much coffee."
I roll my eyes. "Don't be such a tea snob. It was hazelnut coffee that your mom got me for Christmas. Ihadto drink it."
His parents invited me over last Christmas and we took part in the first-ever Young family Secret Santa. I got London, which he swears wasn’t rigged, and his mom got me.
"Yes, but you didn't have to drinkthree cupsof it before we left." His eyes are fixed on the road, but one of his hands cradles mine. London turns off cruise control and smoothly lane-changes to exit the freeway.
"You didn't tell me we were going on a road trip!" I retort, poking him in the arm.
