Page 70 of Tops
Nessa:I must go to my mom’s house for Thanksgiving. She has already invited Tanner along since she only knows about him, and his schedule is clear for that day. Please let me know which airport you would like me to schedule tickets for.
I waited, my eyes on the screen and my ear toward the door. I wasn’t sure how he would respond, but considering the time, he was likely in his office. Minutes ticked by, and Colten gave a thumbs-up reaction to my statement, and I smiled, knowing that at least he had my back on this.
A while later, there was still no response from Tanner. I decided rather than waiting by my phone, I needed to hop into a shower before bed. Tanner was probably busy handling a situation and would see the message when he saw it. When I got out of the bathroom, I immediately checked my phone.
Tanner:I have the flight covered.
22
Stuffing More than Turkey
Standinginthemiddleof the stone driveway, looking up at my childhood home with Tanner by my side after flying here on a private plane, felt more than just a little surreal. The large wooden barn out back was slowly losing its fight against gravity, and it was only a matter of time before it would come crashing down. Of course, that is what we had been saying for the past ten years, and as the seasons passed, it still stood.
Tanner was wearing his usual uniform, a white button-up with black slacks. Looking every bit the wealthy New Yorker type. His wealth clashed against my mom’s rustic design as soon as we walked in the door. Nik would have blended in the most, wearing a casual shirt and a pair of jeans. I really needed to see Tanner in jeans again.
“Oh wow. He looks as good in person as he does on the phone,” Mom jabbered before heading over to him, armed with a hug whether he was ready or not. “Hi, I’m Marie, but you can call me Mom,” she said, releasing him from the awkward hug.
She looked between Tanner and me, her gaze turned discerning, and I worried she could somehow sense that our relationship was complicated. Not wanting to start on that line of questioning, I wrapped my arm tightly around Tanner, pulling him into me like I figured a proper couple would do.
“Mom, this is Tanner. Tanner, my mom. She likes hugs without consent,” I said, laughing, trying to help the awkward tension in the room blow over.
“Good evening, Marie. Thank you for inviting me to accompany Nessa home for Thanksgiving. She’s been telling me all about your white potato pie,” Tanner said, putting on his most charming smile. My mom didn’t mind that he called her by her first name instead of mom. At the word pie, she was putty in his hands as she started to frantically explain the dinner.
The earliest we could arrive today was evening, Thanksgiving Day, but at least we were spending the night. We would have to leave after breakfast to get back on the private plane to make an appointment Tanner had scheduled. A plane ride that took less than an hour, no less. Still, it felt like an easy concession considering the short notice I gave him.
Mom hurriedly explained each dish as she walked through her kitchen, pointing excitedly. It would just be the three of us, but she cooked enough food for a full house. At that moment, I looked at my mom, really looked at her. Her brown curly hair was held back in a headband, but I knew it would have been in a bandana if she wasn’t expecting guests. She put on her fanciest sweater, but I noticed the way it hung loosely from her. Standing in the same room as her, she no longer seemed like the rule-setting parent of my memories. We were closer to something I could consider equals.
Maybe sex was what I needed to feel like an adultier adult.
My mom encouraged us to scoop what we wanted onto our plates, and we would eat around the dining room table she reserved for special occasions. It could sit eight, not that we ever had that many people over for dinner at one time after dad’s funeral. Now six chairs sat lonely, three on each side, while the ends of the tables remained bare.
After the burial, our house was so full of people that there was barely any room to move, even as a small girl. People breezed in and out of the door that day, but the house was cold and silent by the time night came.
The house stayed like that until I left for college. I remembered a few of my dad’s friends from the police department knocking on our door to check on us, but it didn’t take long for that to stop. The house turned quiet, and banana bread didn’t have nuts in it anymore. Thankfully, Mom still put the candied pecans on top of her sweet potato casserole. I scooped a large spoonful onto my plate.
Tanner looked out of place but didn’t complain or fumble as he filled his plate with a little bit of everything my mom laid out on the counter. I headed with my plate into the dining room, and Tanner followed behind me, so removed from his element that I wanted to laugh.
He sat next to me at the worn wooden table, and mom hurried in with a bottle of wine for the empty glasses already waiting with the silverware. For Mom, this was fancy. For Tanner, this was like the service at the local dive, something he probably avoided. But I made a mental note of how he smiled like he was enjoying himself, thanking my mom as he got up to pour the wine for the table. My mom hurried away to grab her own plate so she could sit down and eat at the same time as the rest of us.
My mom didn’t start a prayer or give words of thanks before she began to cut into the slice of turkey covered in gravy on her plate. There hadn’t been any words like that in this house since dad died. There weren’t any pictures of him around the house either, and mom had burned his chair. Then she only arranged the seats along the sides, never allowing the head of the table to be filled. I had always sat with one empty seat to my right, but now Tanner sat in that spot, visibly unsure if it was time to start eating or not.
I lifted my fork with a teasing smile, bringing it to my lips to lick the prong suggestively. At least as suggestive as I could manage, considering it was a fork, my mom’s gaze was set securely on the food in front of her. Holidays were hard, and now I could see that in a way I had ignored for many years.
Tanner’s eyes widened, and I saw the slip of a genuine smirk hiding beneath his mask. Seeing him in a place where he was not in charge was fun. His good looks and charm could only take him so far in this house. I stabbed a green bean off my plate, showing it to Tanner as if he needed further demonstration on how to eat rather than simply gesturing that it was okay.
I ate the bite next, my eyes closing as a groan escaped me. When I opened them, the table was silent, but everyone was looking at me.
“Food’s delicious, Mom,” I said with a smile before scooping up a piece of the sweet potato casserole, unable to resist it any longer. New Yorkers could keep their hotdogs and pizza. I missed my mom’s home cooking.
My mom smiled and returned to her plate, pleased with the compliment. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tanner scoop a small bite of cheesy potatoes onto his fork. The one spoonful likely contained more fat than Tanner put into his body in a day. He seemed to consider the bite, chewing, and swallowing before nodding his head and going back for more.
It was a primarily quiet dinner, as many dinners with my mother were. She felt like silence was the best compliment, everybody too busy enjoying the meal to make small talk. It wasn’t until the pie plates were cleared and Mom opened another bottle of wine for the table that conversation started to flow.
“I think that was the best Thanksgiving dinner I have ever had in my life, Marie,” Tanner said, leaning back in his chair to get more comfortable. He held the refilled glass of wine in one hand while his other rested on my thigh.
We had exchanged a battle of wills over what I would wear to dinner tonight, and I was thankful for the rules I had made Tanner agree to. He argued that since he would have to pretend like we were in a relationship during the visit, his reward would be choosing my outfit. While I agreed to his terms, I couldn’t let him put me in some over-the-top ball gown for the evening.
Tanner’s hand rubbed against the material of the long blue dress we decided on. It went all the way to the floor and had long sleeves to keep me warm, but the material was thin and silky, allowing me to feel Tanner’s touch as if nothing was between us. I shot him a glare from the side, knowing what he was doing. I took another sip of my wine, letting myself relax, knowing we were safe spending the night.
