Page 120 of Off Limits

Lochlyn and I look at each other with what I’m sure are the same shocked faces.

“Mom, I can assure you that you have never once mentioned Don, let alone any man, in any of our previous conversations.” It’s such a startling fact that I know for certain it would stick and would surely not be something I’d easily forget.

“I’m sure I would have mentioned him. We’ve been together for almost two months now.”Two months?

“And you’re hosting Thanksgiving dinner together?” Two months seems a little sudden for such a big to-do.

“Well, he’d like to meet you. And I haven’t seen you in a while. Sweetheart, being with Don has made me realize how shut off I was for years, and I’m so sorry. I want you to come, if you’d like, to meet him and so we can maybe talk.” Surprised is a massive understatement. Mom is seeing somebody, who’s made her see her absence in my life. While I miss Dad, I’m glad Mom finally found some clarity. And hopefully happiness.

“Um, yeah, sure. I don’t see why not. Chelsea’s going down anyway.”

“Oh wonderful, I’m so happy. Don’s really looking forward to meeting you.”

“Well, I guess I’m looking forward to meeting him as well.”

That’s how two weeks later, we find ourselves tossing packed duffle bags into the trunk of Lochlyn’s car.

“Chelsea, you’re in the back, no complaining about the music,” Lochlyn says as he opens his door.

“Ugh, but why?”

“First of all”—he rests his forearms on the roof of the car before continuing—“my car, my rules. Second of all, we have a voting agreement and majority rules.”

“Shay didn’t even vote.”

“She doesn’t have to.”

“Shay?” Chelsea should know better than to question Lochlyn about me, but she’s desperate.

“Sorry, Chels.”

“Ugh, fine,” she grumbles as she climbs into the backseat, but Lochlyn and I just smile over the top of the car. We often joke that it’s like we’re her parents. In reality, it’s not terribly different since we’re both far more responsible and Lochlyn was fully in charge of her for a long time.

“You guys aren’t going to, like, pull off somewhere and have crazy car sex or something, right?” This is the question we’re greeted with as we shut our doors.

“I make no promises.” Lochlyn laughs until I jab him in the ribs.

“No, Chelsea. Why would you even ask that?”

“We’ll just save it for when we get home.”

“Lochlyn!” I practically shriek. She’s fully accepting of our relationship at this point. But she doesn’t need to hear about the sexual aspect of it. I never wanted to hear about hers, and she doesn’t need to hear about mine, especially since it’s with her brother.

“Relax, Shay. I get it. You guys love each other, you have sex. I’ve come to accept it.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to hear about it.”

“Ugh, Loch, do youhaveto use your phone? Can’t you just listen to the radio? At least then I get commercial breaks.”

“Sorry, Chels. We lose stations a few times. This way, no interruptions.” As the phone syncs with the car, a Skillet song starts enthusiastically through the speakers. It’s loud enough that I barely hear Chelsea groan behind me.

Four and a half hours, two coffee stops, and two bathroom breaks later, we’re standing in front of my house. I’m staring at the door like it’s the most foreign thing in the world. Chelsea and Lochlyn are silent behind me, until Lochlyn steps up to me, slipping his arm around my waist, pulling some curls behind my shoulder and kissing my neck. The calming mechanism still works.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door.

Dinner is actually nice and a lot of fun. Don is a really sweet guy, and it’s very clear that he makes Mom happy. He has a fantastic sense of humor and keeps us laughing the whole time, including how he met Mom, which was by frequenting the store asking such ridiculous questions he said he was surprised she couldn’t see through him.

My favorite is the one where he asked her if the pan could self-cook eggs. When she said yes, it could cook eggs, he clarified he meant by itself, without needing to pay attention, flip, or remove from the heat.

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