The familiar red pick-up truck pulls up outside my house at exactly ten o’clock. If there’s one thing my mother is, it’s punctual. In her mind punctuality is as close to godliness as cleanliness is. Though I’ve never understood how she could manage it on long trips like this. I guess there are worse super powers to have.

I watch through the curtains as my sister hops down from the truck and my mother gets out from the driver’s side. They give the house a good long look. It’s the first time they’ve been here. I had an apartment last time. I’m only able to have a house like this because the owner is living in another country for a few years and wanted someone to keep living there. It’s nice and is in the right price range. Over the past year or so I’ve really made it mine. It’s become my safe space. Or it was, until I found Hudson and the club. But still, watching them approach my door makes my stomach sink and jaw clench. My realization of last night makes me want them in my home even less, but there’s nothing that I can do about it.

I take a step back as they approach the door, so they don’t see me watching them, and I wait for the doorbell to ring. It does, and I give myself a second. I take a deep breath, paste a happy smile on my face, and open the door. “Hi.”

“Hey,” my sister says, brushing past me as I stand aside.

My mom gives me a smile and pulls me into a hug. “How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m good. You guys have bags?”

“They’re in the truck. We’ll grab them in a bit.” She comes in and I close the door. Catherine is standing, surveying the main area of my small house, and my mother joins her. For the first time, I see it how they must see it. Small and cramped with not quite enough natural light. Cluttered with my photography things and posters of strange art that they don’t understand. I can tell the smile on my mother’s face is fake. “This is nice.”

“I like it,” I say, leading them into the living room. It’s not a lie. I do. I push what I think their judgements might be out of my head. It doesn’t matter what they think. “So, what’s the plan for the…fridge?”

My mother nods. “New ice cream freezer for the store. Bigger than our last one. This one has sliding doors and everything.”

“That’s great.”

“They wouldn’t deliver it to Aguila. God forbid a delivery person drives a little way.”

I clear my throat. “That’s a three-hour drive, mom. They probably need him for other deliveries.”

She waves her hand like that doesn’t matter. “It’s bad business. If the fridge hadn’t already arrived here you better believe I would cancel. When you say your company services the Greater Phoenix Area, you should actually service that area.”

“Okay.” I press my lips together, knowing that me saying the has unreasonably high expectations for deliveries isn’t going to get me anywhere. “So what’s the plan for the fridge?”

Catherine leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees. “We can pick it up in a couple of hours and then we can do whatever.”

“Whatever?”

“Yeah!” My mom says chirpily. “I thought we’d just hang out with you, do what you’re doing.”

“Okay,” I say slowly.

She nods, even though I can tell it’s overly enthusiastic. She’s trying my mom, even if she doesn’t agree. “What would you be doing if we weren’t here?”

“I’d probably be out taking pictures.”

“Let’s do that then!”

I give her a look. “You want to come with me? It’s not going to be interesting for you.”

“Don’t be silly,” she waves her hand again. “I’ll be with you. And if it’s important to you, I’m sure that it will be interesting.”

Why, oh, why, didn’t I just lie and say that I’d be going to the park? Or the mall? Or anything that doesn’t end with my mom and my sister somewhere in Phoenix while I’m trying to take pictures? “Okay. We’ll go when you get back from picking up the fridge.”

* * *

I resist the urge to slam the door behind me as I close it. My mom and Catherine are already in the living room, but I don’t stop. I head to my room and put down the equipment that I’m carrying. It was a disaster. A total, huge, all-encompassing disaster.

We went to this location that I’d mapped out about a month ago—a beautiful broken down fountain. I’m going to have to go back because it’s beautiful, and once I get the perfect frame and turn it black in white I think it will be one of the best images I’ve ever gotten. But I’ll have to go back. I set up the camera and mom tried to ask questions and I tried to answer them. But my photoshoots are usually just me and my camera and an empty space, and me moving the camera a hair this way or that, or trying a different angle. Mom asked if a model was going to show up more than once. And by the time an hour had passed, I could feel both her and Catherine simmering with frustration. So I stopped, and now we’re back here. I should have insisted we do anything else.

I take a breath, trying to calm myself, and head back to the living room, leaning against the doorway. “Do you guys want something to eat?”

“What do you have?” Catherine asks.

“I have stuff to make chicken and pasta. We can order take-out. It’s up to you guys. Maybe we can watch a movie or something.”

My mom stands and crosses to the kitchen. “I can cook something.”

“You don’t have to do that, Mama.”

“It’s fine,” she says, a tired smile on her face. “I’m happy to.”

My mother always does like to be productive. She probably is actually happy to do it after an hour of doing what she views as nothing.

“So why have you been dodging my calls?” Catherine says, looking up from her phone.

Trust my sister to bring up something like this. “Because I didn’t want to be set up on anymore surprise dates.”

“Whatever,” she says. “That was for your own good. And seeing what I just saw, I don’t see that you’ve been too busy to pick up the phone.”

That’s because she usually called in the early evening and I was already on my way to the club and my phone was off. I shrug. “Besides, what makes you think I have been busy.”

“Well, I’ve wanted to finish telling you about what Keith said about you. Especially after you stood him up.”

“Catherine,” I snap, “I don’t give a shit about what Keith said.”

Her eyes widen, and behind me my mother gasps. “Christine, watch your language!”

I roll my eyes. “Mama, you and I both know that daddy says that and worse every day.”

“Your father is a man. Ladies should have a more distinguished tongue.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes again. “Fine. I don’t care what Keith said.”

“Why not?” Christine says, “He’s such a nice guy.”

I give her a look. “He is not a nice guy. He is, frankly, an ass. Why you set me up with him in the first place is beyond me.”

She scoffs. “You could do a lot worse than him.”

“I could do a lot better, too. Trust me.”

Christine’s eyes narrow. “I wondered about that. Suddenly you’re not answering your phone and you’re too good to date Keith. You’re seeing someone?”

My heart plummets. If they find out about Hudson, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. He is the epitome of a city man, and to them, that’s the worst sin imaginable. “Honestly, me not wanting to date a man who basically bullied me in high school has nothing to do with me seeing someone.”

She cocks her head to the side, considering. “You didn’t say you weren’t though.”

“I didn’t say I was, Catherine. And even if I was, it’s none of your business.”

“I’m your sister,” she says, thoroughly appalled.

I shake my head. “Why do you even care? Who I may or may not be with doesn’t affect you.”

“She’s just worried about you, sweetie,” my mom says from the kitchen. “We all are.”

There’s a sinking feeling in my gut, and I’m dreading what’s coming, but maybe if I pretend I don’t know what’s about to happen they’ll go easy on me. “You don’t have anything to worry about,” I say, gesturing around to my house. “I’m fine.”

She pauses stirring the pot of pasta that she’s put on the stove. “You are not fine.”

I cross my arms, preparing for the blow. “And what makes you say that?”

The look on her face tells me that it should be obvious. “You live in a tiny house that has no room, you—apparently—don’t have a boyfriend, and for fun, you stand out in the hot sun and take pictures of nothing.”

“I was taking pictures of the fountain, Mama.”

“Yeah, a broken concrete fountain that doesn’t work. In an abandoned shopping complex.”

I walk over to the couch and sit down. “I’m an environmental photographer. Just because you don’t appreciate it doesn’t mean it’s not valuable. Have you ever heard of Ansel Adams?”

She huffs a sigh. “Your father and I just don’t understand. Why would you choose this? Why would you choose being alone in a city full of strangers instead of being at home with your family? Why would you choose something that is going to assure you’re alone for the rest of your life?”

“Wait a minute,” I stand back up. “You think that because I’ve chosen to become a photographer I’m going to be single for the rest of my life?”

“This isn’t what men want,” she spits. “They want women who love their families and can take care of a good home and have pets and be there when they get home.”

“And so what?” My anger breaks open and my voice rises. “You know, I don’t care. I’ve spent so much time thinking that I was boring and average because of all of you. That’s all you ever told me I was. You told me I should stay home, never go anywhere, and never try anything unique or adventurous. I followed your advice, and still, absolutely nothing I do makes you happy. Guess what, I just made a new discovery. It’s my life. I’m happy in my small house with no pets. I’m happy working in a photography studio and practicing my art. God forbid someone in the family be an artist. What I do, and what I want, have value, mama. I’m sorry you can’t see that, but I’m done letting you tell me that my life isn’t good enough just because it’s not the same as your life.”

She stares at me like I’ve turned into a talking fish. I have no idea what she’s going to say next. I know she’ll have an answer. There’s not a time in my life when my mother hasn’t had a response to something that was said.

There’s a knock at the door and I startle. It might be one of the neighbors. Maybe they heard me yelling and are checking to make sure everything is okay. “Saved by the knock,” I mutter under my breath. I open the door, putting a mental wall up to make sure I can deflect any well-meaning attempts to make sure we’re not murdering each other in here.

But it’s not a neighbor. It’s Hudson.

Hudson is here. He’s standing in a bright blue button-down that makes his eyes stand out even more by contrast, and he’s holding what might be the biggest bouquet of roses that I’ve ever seen. I don’t realize that my jaw has dropped open until I try to speak. “What are you doing here?” I’m absurdly glad to see him. Even after everything I told him about not being ready, his face is the most comforting thing in the world right now.

“I wanted to prove to you that I want more than what we have right now. That I don’t care who you are outside the club.” He says that last part very quietly. “But I heard yelling. Are you all right?”

I push the roses aside and wrap my arms around him. He’s surprised, but he hugs me back. “I’m so glad you’re here right now.”

“Are you all right?” he asks again.

“My mother and my sister are here,” I say softly. “I haven’t told you anything about my family, but to say that we don’t get along might be an understatement.”

Hudson smiles. “I’d still like to meet them.”

“It’s your funeral,” I say as I step back and take his hand to pull him into the house.

Catherine is standing in the hallway, gaping. I don’t know how to introduce Hudson. We’ve never really defined the terms. ‘Boyfriend’ feels too simple, and yet if I introduce him as my ‘lover,’ my mother will have even more of a fit. But Hudson takes care of it for me. He reaches out and shakes Catherine’s hand. “I’m Hudson Carlisle. It’s nice to meet you.”

My mother steps out of the kitchen, and the height difference is comical. She’s even shorter than me. “And you must be Mrs. Everett.”

“I am,” she says coldly. “Who are you?” Even though he’s just introduced himself.

He gives her a dazzling smile. “I’m dating your daughter.”

Catherine gives me a look. “I knew it.”

My mother is still frowning. “It’s nice to meet you, Hudson. Unfortunately, you’ve come at a bad time. We were just having a serious discussion with Christine about her future, so I think it’s best if you come back another time.”

“Mama,” I say. “This is my house. You can’t ask people to leave. Hudson, I don’t want you going anywhere.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winks at me, but I can see the worry in his eyes, the disapproval at the way they’re treating me.

“Anything you were going to say to me, you can say in front of him.”

She sniffs, offended. The only thing worse than her daughter having such a terrible life would be discussing our ‘dirty laundry’ in front of strangers. “No, thank you.”

“Well, in that case,” I say, “you guys should probably get going. If you leave now, you’ll get home in time for a late dinner. Hudson, their bags are in the guest room, will you help with them?”

“Of course.” He sets the roses on the table in the kitchen and sets off into the house as if he’s been here a million times and knows exactly where the guest room is.

Mom’s face is bright red. “You’re kicking us out?”

“I’m shortening your stay. You don’t approve of me or my life here, and I’m an adult. I don’t have to host hostile people in my house. I love you, mama. You’re family. But I want you to think long and hard about what I said, and why you never think anything I do is all right. After you think about that for a while, then we’ll talk.”

Hudson comes out from the back hallway with their bags. “You have a lovely daughter, Mrs. Everett. She’s done really well for herself here, and I look forward to seeing her photography all over Phoenix.”

“What are you talking about?” she says sharply.

He looks at me like he’s shocked. “You didn’t tell her?”

I shake my head no, even though I don’t have any idea what he’s talking about. He clears his throat. “I’m a business owner, and I’m also friends with one of the premiere commercial architects in Phoenix. We’re talking with him, and there’s a possibility that Christine might be his go-to photographer for art in his new buildings.”

My mother at least has the grace to look surprised. And for just a second, she even looks pleased. “Well, that’s very nice.”

“You’re right, it is,” he says, as I open the door for him. Out by the car he shakes her hand since she wouldn’t let him do it when he first arrived. “I hope that I can get to know you more in the future.”

She doesn’t say anything. It’s because she doesn’t lie, and she’s not sure she wants to get to know him better. Hudson wraps his arms around me from behind while we watch them drive away, sour looks on their faces. “Thank you,” I say.

“Smother them with kindness,” he says.

I practically snort. “They won’t appreciate it.”

“Maybe not, but it could be good in the future if they don’t already hate me.”

I lead him back into the house. “Well, this is home. I know it’s small.”

He shrugs, “Is that what they said? I think it’s a fine size house. Especially since you live alone. Were you ever to live with someone else, it might get a little bit cramped.”

“True.”

Sitting down on my couch, he grins. “I like it.”

“Wait a second,” I say. “How did you get my address?”

Hudson’s grin turns a little sheepish. “I looked up your billing address from the Halloween ticket.”

“Sneaky,” I roll my eyes. “I could be really mad at you, you know. For invading my privacy like that.”

“Are you mad?” It’s a genuine question. He’s not smiling anymore.

I walk over to him and straddle his lap, pressing my lips to his. “No, I’m not mad. You showed up at the perfect time.”

“I didn’t know how else to show you I was serious.” His arms pull me closer. “I knew there wasn’t anything I could say that would convince you that I don’t care about who we are in the club. It’s fun, but I want you. Wherever you are and whatever you’re doing. Especially because I’m falling in love with you.”

My breath stills in my chest. The words don’t seem scary when he says them. They seem natural and perfect and of course that’s what I’ve been feeling. How could I not? “I love you too.”

His lips crash onto mine, and he squeezes me tight so that our bodies are entirely aligned. We’re so close that I can feel how hard he is and what he wants. “The bed is more comfortable.”

“Which bed? Yours or the guest room?”

I laugh against his lips. “I don’t care, just take me to a bed.”

He picks me up and carries me to my room, laying me out and following me down. I can’t seem to stop kissing him. “This was one of my fantasies too, you know.”

“Being in my bed?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Telling you I love you, and having you say it back.”

The smile on my face is so wide that it hurts. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”