by Tess Harper
Peter’s hand slipped over mine. I shivered as he slowly turned over my hands, rubbing this thumb over the underside of his wrist. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”
“It’s nothing. I wanted to see you.” I always want to see you. And by see you, I mean maul you in public even in front of all these people and those kids.
“I’m sorry about canceling our plans tonight. My mom is just really worried about my little brother.”
I studied him thoughtfully. “You’re worried too, aren’t you?”
Peter’s grip on my wrist tightened for a second. “Yeah, I am. Something’s been bothering him lately. He hasn’t been talking to mom and dad, which isn’t surprising, but he’s barely called me. I thought we were closer than this.”
“You are close, but he just started college. College is a time for self discovery. Kids often distance themselves from their families.”
“I hope you’re right, Em. The last time I talked to him, he didn’t even sound like himself.” He sighed. “At least he’s coming home for Thanksgiving. We’re staging an intervention.”
I gave him a small smile. “You probably shouldn’t refer to it as an intervention. There’s a good chance he’s just being a normal teenage guy who doesn’t think it’s cool to call home for hours on end. Or maybe some girl broke his heart.”
Peter shook his head, laughing. “You don’t know my brother. That definitely isn’t it. I’m worried it’s drugs. He partied hard in High School, but now that he’s older he might be exposed to new and more dangerous temptations. Then again, maybe not. I’d be lying if I said he hadn’t already been exposed to all that shit. That kid grew up way too fast. I don’t think he’s ever been young.”
This time I squeezed his hand. “It will be alright, Peter.”
“I don’t know.” He released my grip and leaned back. “I couldn’t wait to get away from that mess when I was younger. I left for college and never looked back. I should have. I left him alone.”
Concern knotted itself in my stomach. I didn’t know much about Peter’s home life. I knew he came from a rich family and he never let on that there were any troubles at home. I wanted to pry, but I knew now wasn’t the time. He was worried for his brother and needed support, not to trudge up childhood memories.
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” I told him.
“I don’t think so. I always felt guilty, but I didn’t do anything about it. Johnny always seemed so happy whenever he saw me, but I’m not sure if he ever really forgave me.” Peter gave me a crooked smile. “So. Enough about me and my bullshit. We don’t have much time together and we’ve wasted enough time on me.”
I shrugged. “I want to be here for you. If there’s anything you want to tell me—anything at all—I will listen and support you.”
“I know you will, Em. You’re amazing.” He took a sip of water. “Have any plans for Thanksgiving?”
I sensed Peter wanted to change the subject and was happy to oblige. Crowded artisan cafes weren’t really the best places for deep, dark confessions, anyways. “Yeah. Soph’s cooking a Tofurkey.”
Peter frowned. “Neither of you guys are vegetarians.”
“I know, but she wants a challenge this Thanksgiving. She says she wants to cook a Tofurkey so good that neither of us will ever want a turkey for Thanksgiving again.”
“Wow, that’s quite the challenge.”
“Oh, it’s barely a challenge. She’s already succeeded. Three nights ago she made an Asian style Turkey with sesame seeds and teriyaki sauce. It was amazing. Tonight it’s a Mexican inspired Tofurkey. Black beans, caramelized onions, guacamole—”
“Hey, isn’t that cheating?” Peter asked. “Thanksgiving dinners are supposed to be familiar and traditional, just like family.”
“Considering that Soph made oysters last Thanksgiving when she visited her family, I’d say that in comparison this is pretty damn traditional.”
Peter gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So I guess you two are going to have an incredible week together.”
I frowned. He sounded a bit sad. “Hey, what is it?”
Peter looked down. “Nothing. I was just being selfish.”
Peter being selfish? This I had to hear. “Selfish how? Tell me!”
He took a deep breath. “I know this is probably the worst timing in the world since we’re staging an intervention for my brother—”
“Not an intervention,” I corrected, “but a supportive chat.”
He grimaced. “Somehow, that sounds even more threatening.”
“Alright, alright. An intervention.”
He looked deeply into my eyes as if searching for something before continuing. “And because both of my parents are a bit…intense.”
“Hmm, two intense parents bringing the book down on their wayward son. This does sound like a difficult Thanksgiving.”
“It will be, but Emily, I don’t want to go a whole week without seeing you.”
My heart started to beat faster. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
“I know that it’s a bad idea, and it could probably turn into the Thanksgiving from hell, but…alright, actually the more I think about this, the more I’m starting to be thankful you’ll be hundreds of miles away eating sacrilegious Tofurkey with Sophie.”
“You want me to come with you,” I whispered. Then I realized how forward I was being. I mean, he hadn’t even invited me yet! “Wait, I mean, do you want me to come with you?”
“It’s a bad idea.”
“But you want me to come, right? I mean, I’m not making this up am I?”
Peter sighed. “It’s still a bad idea, Em.”
“Really? It doesn’t sound too bad to me.”
He raised his brows.
“Okay, I’m lying. It sounds awkward as hell. But do you want to know something even more awkward?”
His lips tilted down as he tried not to smile. “What?”
“That, if you asked, I would totally go with you.”
A resigned expression fell over his face. That’s right! He still hasn’t invited me! What the hell are you trying to pull, Emily? He’s gonna think you’re a freak! “I mean, it’s not like I’m trying to invite myself to your family’s for Thanksgiving or anything…”
He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Really? You’re not?”
I felt myself pinking. “No, totally not,” I tried to play it off, waving my hand and shrugging.
He gave me a sideways glance. “That would be awfully forward of you.”
Shit. I really do look like psychotic clingy stalker girlfriend!
He looked down, then back up at me. His eyes were cloudy. He looked intense, but I couldn’t read the expression in them. “But I like forward women.”
My stomach did a silly, happy flip, landing in a somersault.
Peter leaned back. “You do understand that this isn’t going to be any fun at all. Dinner is going to be bland, boring and traditional. And that if there is any conversation over said dinner, it will be forced and sporadic, and that the thick, uncomfortable silence will only be broken when someone passive aggressively stabs their lumpy, lukewarm and over-salted stuffing with a fork.”
I giggled. “You’re really trying to sell this to me.”
Peter frowned. “What I’m trying to say is that it’s not going to be fun at all. And also, I really hope you don’t take my advice and decide to come anyway.”
I grinned.
“You shouldn’t be smiling. This is likely the worst proposal you’re ever going to get in your life.”
I grinned harder. “No, it’s only the second worst.” I glanced up at him. “You’re not inviting me to your family to scare me away, are you?”
“Definitely not.”
“Good. Because a little bit of family drama isn’t going to scare me away. In fact, I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would scare me away.”
He inhaled sharply.
“You’re going to have to tell me straight-up if you don’t want to be with me anymore, not passive aggressively attack inanimate objects with silverware, because I’m totally, ridiculously…” I give him a bit smile, showing off my canines, “maybe even slightly stalkerishly into you.”
His lips curled into a slow smile. “Stalkerishly into me?”
“Yeah. If you want to get rid of me, turning off your phone for a week won’t be enough. You’ll need to change your number and just have to deal with a crazy, large animal rustling in the bushes outside your apartment for the next three weeks.”
He chuckled. “You do sound a little dangerous.”
“I’m just kidding. But seriously, if you want to call things off get a new phone.” I grinned. “So, is that forward enough for you Peter?”
“Maybe slightly more forward than I was expecting.” He reached across the table for my hand. “Does this mean you’ll come, Em?”
I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah. I’m here for you. Always.”
Chapter 25
My alarm clock wouldn’t go off for another twenty minutes, but I was too excited to go back to sleep. I’d already packed everything the night before, so I stared out the window opposite my bed. It felt like the city was still asleep under a giant gray duvet. Peter wasn’t picking me up for another two hours. Maybe getting ready would be a better use of my time, but instead I rolled over and opened the text he’d sent me last night.
I cant wait to spend this week with you Emily. Sweet dreams ;)
I had butterflies in my stomach. There was no other way to explain this giddy, fluttery, ethereal feeling. I reread the text a few more times before I got out of bed and did my morning run.
After my run I took a shower, I put on skinny jeans, a pastel green Banana Republic cardigan and rose pink ballet flats. I blow dried my hair and applied makeup as my phone buzzed. It was Peter: Be there in 5.
“Eee! Sophie!” I skipped out of the bathroom and into the living room. Sophie was watching a re-run of The Real World: Portland.
I scrunched up my nose. “God, how can you watch this trash?”
“This trash?! Em, this shit’s amazing.”
Yeah. This shit. I couldn’t have said it better myself. “Okay Sophie,” I laughed.
The show went to commercial and she twisted around to get a better look at me. “Aw, you look so cute!”
“Thanks.” I beamed as I twirled. My stomach did another flip. “Does it look like I’m trying too hard?”
“Not at all. You’re meeting his family. You wanna look like the conservative, preppy, put-together type. Remember Emily,” she smiled, “we’re not in college anymore.”
“Thank god.”
“You’re going to have a great time. I bet his family’s wonderful, Peter’s an amazing guy.”
I hope so…
The intercom buzzed. I looked at Sophie excitedly. “That’s him!”
I grabbed my duffle bag and purse and gave Sophie a hug. She kissed my cheek, then got the door with a wink. “Since I’m letting you both off without an interrogation, I want all the details.”
“Of course,” I vowed.
She wiggled her eyebrows. “Well, don’t keep him waiting!”
“God Soph,” I muttered, but I couldn’t prevent myself from smiling as I tiptoed down the stairs. Out of the small window next to the door, I saw a bouquet of pastel flowers.
Remember those butterflies that I mentioned in my stomach earlier? All ten thousand of them took one look at those flowers and decided it was time to pollinate. I practically fell down the stairs I was moving so fast.
Peter opened the door just as I was about to pummel through it. “Emily? You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, breathless. I planted the arm with fewer bags on it on the doorframe to steady myself. “I’m great.”
“It sounded like you were falling.”
“Those were just the butterflies—I mean, I’m okay. Really.” I took a slow, deep breath, then let it out. “Really.”
For some reason, all of this made him smile.
“So, uh, are those for me?” I asked coyly, nodding at the flowers.
“Of course. Here, set your bags down. I’ll switch with you.”
Normally I would have insisted on carrying my own bags to the car, but Peter stunned me. He wore a dark gray sweater with a blue striped button up underneath. I couldn’t stop looking at him from top to bottom, pausing at the bulge in his pants.
I dropped the bags.
I felt my face get hot. Fuck Emily, don’t pink at a time like this. My eyes shot up to his face.
Peter handed me the flowers, still smiling. “Ready?”
I nodded. “All set.”
He picked up my bags and hauled them to his black 2012 4Runner with a leather interior, not once complaining about the weight or that I’d brought too much for a small weekend get-together.
He opened the door for me and I got in, careful to keep the flowers from hitting the door. Damn I loved this car. It even still smelled brand new.
Fuck, where should I put these flowers? I turned awkwardly side to side trying to look for a spot to set the flowers down as Peter got in.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, err, I, uh…” I stammered, Jesus Emily, speak English! “Flowers!” I spit out.
Peter laughed. “Here, let me get those for you,” he said, taking them from me.
My cheeks were really hot. Fuck.
Peter smiled. “You’re pretty cute when you’re embarrassed.”
Double Fuck. Way to go pinky. I got pinker.
“I’ll put these in the back,” he said setting the flowers down on the back seat.
I laughed nervously. “Thanks,” I said, clicking my seatbelt into place. “So…how long of a drive is it to your folks home?”
“Three hours.”
“Oh, that’s not bad at all,” I said smiling. “Growing up, my family always took long car trips. Three hours is nothing for me.”
Wait, am I bragging… about sitting in a car?
Peter grinned, “I didn’t realize I was driving with such an experienced road tripper.”
I smiled nervously, What is my problem?
My aunt Lidia’s voice trilled in my head, “It runs in the family!”
I shook my head to snap out of it: stop day dreaming like a crazy person!
“Need a road tripper? I’m your girl!” I said cheerfully, trying to recover. Just after the words left my mouth I heard them echo in the car: I’m your girl? You have got to be kidding me!
“I mean,” I stuttered nervously trying to recover, “Yeah, I’ve got a lot of experience, I can go for a really long time.”
Peter looked at me curiously. “Is that so…?” he asked, smiling.
Shit! That’s not what I meant. “I mean, I can be in a car without going to the bathroom for a long time. I won’t make you stop to pee.”
Mayday! Mayday!
“I mean…” I trailed off.
Crap. I’m so done.
Peter started laughing. He turned to me and grabbed my hand.
“Emily, you’re amazing.”
Huh? I looked at Peter. His eyes were like two glittering emeralds staring back at me.
“It would be very easy for me to fall in love with you.”
I just stared at Peter feeling like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t have just said that, right?
Peter was still looking deep into my eyes, smiling his one million dollar you-are-the-only-woman-in-the-world-for-me smile, and so I answered, “It would be easy for me to fall in love with you, too.”
It surprised me how easy those words were to say. How true they were. How right they felt. But before I could make sense of this, Peter pressed his lips against mine.
I stopped thinking about visiting his family. I didn’t remember my nerves, or whatever else I’d been so upset with lately. Nothing in the world existed except him and his mouth brushing against mine, coaxin
g my own mouth open.
His hands cupped my cheeks. The scent of lilies invaded my senses, drawing me into a passion so sweet and airy it felt ethereal. He was so beautiful, and his beauty was so free and light. There was nothing forceful about it. Its intensity came from satisfaction instead of longing and madness.
