She looked at him, seated beside me, and I saw it was true—how much she loved him, how proud of him she was, how she only wanted what was best for him. I wasn’t foolish. I knew that in her mind I wasn’t that. I wasn’t what was best for her son, but she loved him too much to straight out say that to me.
“He’s a good man,” I answered. “You should be proud of him. He inspires me.” I didn’t have to look at Anson to know he rolled his eyes. I turned to him. “What? You do.”
“You’re so sappy. It just gets thicker and thicker.”
I gave him a playful frown. “I prefer the word sweet.”
“A little sweet, I guess.” He winked.
When Elias said, “Should I vomit now or later?” we both snapped out of it. For a moment, I’d forgotten we had an audience and it hadn’t been just us.
Anson’s gaze darted away. “Should I punch you now or later?”
I laughed.
“Do you really want to get beat up in front of your boyfriend?” As soon as the words left his mouth, everyone looked toward Cheryl.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I think I’ll go check on dinner.”
“I’ll help you, Mama.” Anson patted my thigh and stood up to go with her.
“She’ll be okay,” Elias told me. “I know she will. She’s a mom, and they worry. It’s part of who they are, and she worries a little more. Losing my dad and trying to make a life for us, my accident, all the pressure Anson has taken onto his shoulders his whole life. For once, things have been easy on us the last few years. She wants it to stay that way because she’s seen Anson and me suffer. But she’ll come around.”
“I don’t want to make him suffer. I want to make him happy.”
“You do,” he replied.
Anson and Cheryl came back into the room before we could say much else.
Things didn’t get easier from there. Cheryl tried. She talked to me, asked me about being a senator, college, and all the standard getting-to-know-you questions. She asked how old I was too, and I wasn’t sure how she felt about the ten years between us.
She’d made baked rosemary chicken for dinner along with mashed potatoes, gravy, and sautéed vegetables. We ate in the dining room together, and the meal wasn’t any more comfortable than the time before it had been. Anson’s leg bounced beneath the table, and I wanted more than anything to find a way to make this easier for him. It didn’t take a genius to see it wasn’t going as planned.
Without thinking, I reached over, held the back of his neck, and brushed my thumb across his nape. He grinned and said, “You have gravy on your mouth.”
“Oh, great. Way to embarrass a guy,” I teased, and he wiped it off as I pulled my hand away from him. “I’m just enjoying all the carbs and savory foods you don’t feed me at home.”
“Hey, I’ve said a million times you can eat what you want. You shouldn’t have to eat what I do, and we have chicken all the time.”
“Chicken breasts, blah, blah, blah,” I joked. “This is very good, Ms. Hawkins.” When I faced her, I realized she’d been watching us. “I do support him eating healthy. I would never… It was a joke.”
“I know.” For the first time, she gave me a small smile. “So, Anson says you talked for a few months on the phone and in texts?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “I never saw…this. I just wanted to be his friend. I wanted him to know he wasn’t alone, not that he was. I know he has his family, you and Elias.” Jesus, I was fucking this up.
“She knows what you meant, West. It’s okay.” Anson reached over and held the back of my neck. I knew the visual show of support for me and our relationship took a lot for him. He didn’t pull away as quickly as I did, letting his hand linger, and fuck if I didn’t need it. I thought maybe he did too.
Cheryl cleared her throat. “What do you…what do you like to do for fun?”
“Ma, he watches documentaries. He’s a little boring,” Anson teased.
“And I thought I liked you,” Elias added with a glance at me.
“There’s nothing wrong with documentaries. I like to learn things.”
We continued to joke around for a while, and as the meal went on, the awkwardness lessened. It didn’t go away, but the air wasn’t as heavy, and Cheryl smiled at me—at us—a few more times.
Afterward, I offered to do the dishes.
“We can do them together,” she replied.
“I’ll help.” Anson stood.
“Come outside and shoot some basketball with me,” Elias told him. Anson looked back and forth between his brother and me, clearly not sure what he should do.