Chapter 45

It was late when we arrived at Graham’s mother’s place. Graham hopped out without a word and fetched the bags. He’d grown tenser the closer we got to his mom’s place.

I slid out of the car, sheepish and quiet. I noticed a woman standing out the front. Her hands laced over her stomach. Her eyes were on Graham. Her serious expression never wavered.

I shuddered as I watched her. Her sternness caused my muscles to tense. However, when she spoke, her voice was calm and welcoming.

I was in a dilemma. I wanted to rest for five minutes, but if I didn’t rest, it meant I could finish five minutes earlier. ~Decisions, decisions.~

“Thank you for inviting me.” I smiled, standing next to Graham. I grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. He relaxed next to me.

“I have dinner saved for you both. I can preheat it while you accommodate yourself.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Graham answered, kissing her cheek before walking inside. The kiss was brief and impersonal. It cracked my heart.

I trailed after Graham. He gave me a quick tour around the house. It was small but comfortable. The decoration was pretty and welcoming.

Graham strode down the hallway to the last door and pushed the door open. He left me to walk in first. “This is my bedroom,” he announced, dropping both bags on the bed. The room was very different than the one at his father’s place. Though the decoration was cozy, it looked like a guest room. “We’ll be staying here.”

“Together? Your mom is okay with that?” I asked, surprised. My parents might love Graham, but they wouldn’t let me stay in the same room with him.

Actually, Graham could possibly convince them otherwise.

“She’s cool with it. Besides, she knows it would be pointless to put us in different rooms. I would sneak into your room late at night. Are you hungry?”

I nodded.

We walked downstairs hand in hand and found his mother in the kitchen. She served us dinner and asked us about our trip. The conversation was light and superficial. Since Graham was tired after driving for almost five hours, we retired early to his bedroom and promised to prep everything tomorrow for Thanksgiving.

***

I woke up to Graham kissing my shoulder. “Hey.”

I turned in his arms and smiled at him. “Hey.”

“I think I like waking up next to you. We should do this more often.”

I chuckled, burying my face against his chest. I could hear his heartbeat. Loud and steady.

“And as much as I wish I could stay all morning here with you, we need to help my mom.”

We hopped out of bed. After we both took a long shower, we descended the stairs to the kitchen and found Graham’s mom already food-prepping. She had vegetables, cans, sauces, and kitchenware out. A book was propped open on the counter as she skimmed through it.

Graham cleared his throat when he entered. She glanced up and smiled at us when she saw us.

“Good morning,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”

I nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“Hey, Mother.”

Kathleen’s lips lowered, bothered by Graham’s slight coldness. She sighed before collecting herself. “I hope you don’t have a plan today, because I was thinking we could cook for tonight. It’d only be us, but the prep is quite handy for only one.”

Her petition moved me with sympathy. It was clear she loved having her son over, though didn’t know how to interact with him. There was a huge wall between them, years of resentment and miscommunication.

“Absolutely,” I answered, stepping in.

Kathleen’s shoulders relaxed as she passed me the onions and tomatoes to chop. She instructed me where the cutting board and the knives were. I moved to clean the onions and tomatoes.

“Graham, you can do the pie if you want. You know how,” she said, looking up at her son. Graham nodded and moved to grab a few things. I scowled as I turned to him.

“You know how to cook?” Why was I only learning about this?

Graham smirked. “I know how to make one pie, pumpkin pie. That’s it.”

My brows rose in surprise. I would have never pegged Graham as a baker.

“He’s an excellent baker,” Kathleen assured me with a small proud smile. “It is a shame he doesn’t want to learn to bake something else.”

“Can’t. I’d only get fat,” Graham joked, and he seemed calmer.

“You’d probably be more huggable,” I teased, and Graham’s lips curled up.

Graham’s chest puffed out as he shot me a playful look. “You love to hug my arms, baby, don’t pretend otherwise.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t deny it. Waking up wrapped in his arms was one of the best feelings ever.

Silence fell between us before Kathleen broke it.

“So, Hazel…” she said, glancing up from the book as she mixed something in a bowl. I put the knife down before I chopped my finger off. “How did you and Graham meet?”

“We go to the same high school,” I supplied.

“Oh, I see.” She was intrigued. “Do you share classes?”

“No.”

“Not since sophomore year,” Graham interrupted me.

Then he proceeded to tell his mother the first time he noticed me in freshman year. We shared English and biology classes. He’d noticed where I sat (front row in biology, window seat during English). His face softened when he narrated my fascination for biology and how I’d laughed at the terrible jokes the teacher wrote on the board.

“I especially remember she laughed hard when the teacher asked: ‘~What do you call an organic compound with an attitude? A-mean-o acid.’ ~Or the one about biologists wearing designer ~genes~.” Graham chuckled at that.

I joined him. Those jokes always got me.

I was fascinated, listening to him talk about me. His features were soft, and his tone was warm.

“Looks like you paid a lot of attention, son,” Kathleen commented. A thoughtful frown etched on her face. It was like she realized something.

“Of course. Hazel was the prettiest girl I’d seen. She was smart, genuine, and funny too.”

Kathleen smiled with a knowing look in her eye.

“How’s work?” Graham changed the subject soon after.

His mother was quick to answer. “Good, we are working on renovating a senior clubhouse. Keeping it classic but functional at the same time. It’s been a challenge due to the limitations around the space, but I haven’t enjoyed working this much for a while.”

Graham hummed while I watched their interactions.

“Good,” he answered, moving around the kitchen for water and ice. He started to add water to the bowl.

“Are you coming to work this summer?” she asked, a bit hesitant. “Or do you have summer camp?”

Graham’s eyes flickered up and landed on her mother. “I have summer camp.” Kathleen tensed at the words. “But I think I can come over.”

“Isn’t your university a couple of hours away? It would be too much, Graham,” she argued, even though it was clear she wanted her son here.

“Yes, but I found a nice place to rent only an hour away from campus. A shorter distance from there to here too.” ~Wait, what?~ I wasn’t aware of this piece of information.

“An hour away? Why would you do that?” Kathleen wondered.

“Middle point between Mountbatten U and Alta Bahia,” Graham answered nonchalantly.

Kathleen frowned and blinked at the information. Then she turned to me, and something gleamed behind her eyes. She nodded and didn’t question further as if it was obvious. “I’m more than happy if you’re able to come over more often.”

“I will.”

Kathleen relaxed at the statement. She seemed a bit content.

I was shocked with the information instead. He planned to live close to my university? When did he decide this? We hadn’t discussed college yet. I wasn’t too stressed since we wouldn’t be that far away. We could visit each other during the weekend. We still needed to coordinate the details, though.

I wanted to question him about his living arrangements but bit my tongue instead. I would wait until we were alone. He should spend this time talking to his mother. I liked that he was trying to open up to her.

I continued to work on chopping the vegetables in silence.

Once we finished everything, Kathleen announced she was taking a nap since she’d been up early and headed to her bedroom. Before she left, she announced the turkey would be ready at six.

Graham nodded and turned to me for the first time.

“You want to take a nap too?”

“No, but I do need to talk to you,” I answered.