Page 91 of Cheater and the Saint
“Now you’re sure your mom won’t mind me tagging along?” Jacob asked, looking just as awkward as he sounded. “I don’t want to impose on your family day.”
“Believe me. She’s cool with it. We don’t have a big family, and it’s usually just me and her for holidays. So having more people this year has given her reason to make even more food. She’s excited.”
Excited was putting it lightly. When Jacob and I walked through the front door, I called out, “Mom? We’re here.”
She came rushing around the corner, wearing an apron with a cartoon turkey on it, and she beamed from ear to ear. Her blonde hair was in a bun, and beneath the apron, she had on decorative, multi-colored leggings and a fancy blouse. Even though she’d turned forty that year, she barely looked thirty, and was often mistaken as my sister when we went places together.
“Mom, this is Jacob,” I started the introductions. “Jacob this is my mom, Victoria.”
“Oh nonsense, he can call me Mom, too,” she said before pulling him in for a hug.
By the way his eyes widened, and his chin trembled, I got the impression he hadn’t been hugged like that in a while.
Patrick was in the kitchen, wearing an apron of his own, and starting the turkey in the pressure cooker. His silver hair looked as though he’d run a tad of gel through it, and he was dressed in a nice pair of dark wash jeans and a flannel shirt.
“Hey, Saint,” he said once seeing me. “Hope you’re hungry. Your mom bought enough food to feed an army.”
“I’m sure Leo will eat it all up when he gets here,” I said, and at the mention of my boyfriend, sadness washed through me. His day was going to be rough and stressful.
“Can’t wait to meet him,” Patrick responded with a smile.
Jacob walked in after that with Mom beside him, gushing over his outfit. His cheeks were pink, but his smile was radiant. I was grateful I’d invited him. The thought of him sitting in his dorm, alone, was too depressing.
Still with Leo on my mind, I pulled out my phone and sent him a text.
Me:Hey, dork <3 Text me when you make it. I hope you have a good visit. Miss you.
“Did you put your baking pants on today?” Mom asked, coming up beside me and bumping her hip to mine. “You have a pie to make.”
“Yep.” I smiled. “I have to make an extra one for Leo.”
“Then you better get started, pumpkin.”
After tying the spare apron around my back, I grabbed the recipe book and skimmed the sweet potato one. There was nothing I could do to help Leo, so even though I still worried about him, I tried to put it out of my mind and stop checking my phone every five minutes.
“Can I help?” Jacob asked.
“I’d like that,” I answered before asking him to get some of the ingredients from the refrigerator.
Jacob liked to cook and knew how to follow a recipe, so it was nice not to have to babysit him too much with it. We laughed as we accidentally bumped into each other, and then he told me a story about helping his mom in the kitchen when he was younger.
I didn’t miss the pain in his eyes when he spoke of her, and I knew that whatever falling out he had with his family had scarred him.
Once the pies were made, we all sat down, drank coffee, and ate cinnamon rolls. We wouldn’t be eating Thanksgiving dinner until around four, so the day was normally spent preparing everything and visiting.
Mom asked Jacob all kinds of questions, one of them being what got him into theater, which he’d already answered for me before. Patrick said that when he was in high school, he used to be in drama club, and that was a surprise for my mom.
“How come you never told me that?” she asked, poking his side.
“You never asked,” he answered before giving her such a charming smile that it affected even me.
A knock sounded at the door, followed by a familiar voice. “Hello? Anyone home? I smell some good cooking.”
I jumped up with a huge smile and met Aunt Kathy by the front door. Her short red hair was curly and she was wearing a hideous sweater with a turkey on it. Ugly sweaters were her thing, at both ThanksgivingandChristmas.
“Hey, Aunt Kathy!” I gave her a hug.
“There’s my handsome man,” she said, patting my arm as she pulled back. “Be a doll and put this in the fridge?” She handed me a round glass bowl, and when I went to peek inside, she slapped at me. “Always so nosy. Get.”
