Page 72 of Forever & Always You
“Itisdecaf,” she informs him, forcing the cup into his soaking hands. “Gabrielle gave me the heads-up. Now please. Sit down and get out of that wet coat. Would you like a dry shirt? Zachary has lots of spare clothes here. Yes, you can borrow something of his. I’ll be right back!” Mom whisks off up the marble staircase, leaving both Austin and me entirely flummoxed.
He collapses onto the couch next to me, his hand rubbing soothingly over my thigh. “What’s going on?”
“I’m .?.?. really not sure. I think she may be—dare I say it—relieved to have you secure the house for her,” I say, and my features ache from being so contorted with puzzlement. I break out into an easy smile and turn my head sharply toward Austin. “So hey, what do you think of the house?”
Austin laughs and makes a grand display of looking around, nodding in appreciation at how perfectly maintained everything is while sipping his coffee. “It’s exactly how I used to imagine it would be.Rich people live herekind of vibes.”
“Do you like it?” I press, and Austin eyeballs me withsuspicion.
“Yes .?.?.?”
“Good, because you’ve been invited for a slumber party!”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not kidding,” Mom says, waltzing back into the room with one of Zach’s old T-shirts. As she hands it to Austin, she sternly tells him, “You’ll be staying in the guest room, of course.”
“Of course,” Austin agrees, and I nuzzle my face into the damp sleeve of his shirt to hide my blushes.
It may have taken over a decade, but finally,finally,I’m getting that long overdue sleepover with my best friend.
25
Who knew riding out the storm with Mom would not only be tolerable, but kind of fun?
As the storm strengthened and the wind and rain battered the house, conversation became less stilted between the three of us. There wasn’t much else to dobuttalk, and Mom was keen to hear the ins and outs of Austin’s career so far once I informed her of his big win at the business awards the previous evening. It was nice watching them engage with one another without Mom firing him disdainful glances every time he opened his mouth, and she kept popping back and forth to the kitchen to fetch more snacks.
One thing about Priscilla McKinley is that she has a very fixed nightly routine and sleep schedule. Even in the midst of a storm, that ten-sharp bedtime doesn’t budge. So, she retreated off to her room with pleasantgoodnights,leaving Austin and me alone in the ambient lighting of the living room until long after midnight, snuggled up close as the storm raged outside and talking in hushed tones. We discussed our plans for the immediate future, like who will be responsible for the trash runs when we move in together? (Answer: him. Always him.)
We shared a tender kiss goodnight outside of my bedroomdoor before separating for the night, because I’m trying my best to be more respectful to my mother and riding Austin like a mechanical bull under her roof doesn’t quite align with that plan.
“See? I knew it wouldn’t be that bad,” Mom muses at breakfast as we listen intently to the weather report on TV. “Only a handful of flash floods and some battered trees.”
“Which means I have no excuse not to open the office today,” Austin says, disappointedly glancing at his watch. There’s a pot of decaf coffee on the go, of course, and he pours himself a second cup and takes a swig as he meets my gaze over the rim. “We’ll need to get going soon so I can get suited up.”
“And I’m working the bar today, so I need to hit the road,” I say. Buck is kind enough not to make me work weekends, so I better not be late getting back to Durham today,especiallywhen I need to break the news to him that I won’t be around for much longer.
Mom grimaces and says, “The sooner you resume classes and get out of that filthy bar, the better,” and I roll my eyes. Last night’s pleasantries were a glitch in the matrix—I should have known to expect her usual scathing remarks this morning.
Austin gives me a pointed, suggestive look, for Mom’s words are as good an opening as any. I give him a clipped nod and suck in a breath.
“Mom, there’s something I need to tell you,” I say with the slightest of tremors in my voice. Mom snaps her neck toward me, looking utterly horrified at what’s about to come out of my mouth next, so I point a scolding finger at her across the table. “And no, I’m not finally confessing to my drug addiction,because I don’t have one,so stop looking at me like that.”
She makes the conscious effort to relax her features. “What is it, Gabrielle?”
“It’s good news. It’s exciting news.” I reach for Austin’shand on the table and he immediately gives mine a reassuring squeeze, so I don’t drag it out any longer. I tell my mother, “I’m moving in with Austin.”
And I brace myself for the disapproval, for the argument that it’s far too soon to be moving in together, but it never comes. Mom is eerily silent as the gears in her mind process the bomb I’ve just dropped, and Austin squeezes my hand even tighter.
Finally, she asks, “How are you going to attend your classes? You can’t commute to school fromhere.”
Oddly, she is more concerned about my Duke degree than she is about me moving in with Austin Pierce, but I’ll take it. I’d rather she slander my education choices than my relationship. “I’m going to look into transferring to UNC .?.?. the Wilmington campus. I’ll go to school here, and I’ll be right across town if you ever need me. Being up there in Durham isn’t making me happy anymore.”
Mom opens her mouth to speak, but she’s so flustered, no words are to be found.
“This is good, right? This is what you wanted,” I continue with a hopeful smile. “You wanted me to start making positive steps, to have a plan. And this is it, Mom.Thisis the plan. I really hope you can get on board with it, because I’m happy.”
“UNC isn’t Duke, Gabrielle,” Mom mumbles, as though I don’t already freakin’ know that, and then she drums her manicured fingernails against the table. “But at this point, I’m just relieved you’re going back to school at all, no matter where. Have you scheduled an appointment with admissions yet? Are there any clauses for breaking the lease on that terrible apartment of yours? And Austin, you’re aware she doesn’t tidy up after herself, aren’t you?”
