At one point in time, I had been close enough to Jaclyn Cole to call her Mom.

From a young age, she’d taken the role of a mother figure to me, and we’d only grown closer when her son and I became high school sweethearts. She was the one who took me to first get tampons, and the person who sat me down to talk about the birds and the bees when my father had been too freaked out to. I knew she was always a little wary about how hard Carson and I had loved one and other, but she had always been an ally.

Until Joel died, and I all but banished her son from North Carolina. They came to the funeral, and I didn’t speak one word to her or Carson’s father, Mickey. At the time, I was an angry spitfire, a walking ball of raw emotion that could lash out at anytime. After that, I think they got the message. They’d stayed away due to my feelings, but I also felt that they blamed me for Carson being so scarce over the years. Now that I think about it, I was surprised Jaclyn hadn’t outright said something to me the couple of times we’d seen each other in town over the past ten years. But then again, she’d always been a very classy woman, it didn’t suit her to do something like that.

“I haven’t seen your parents in a long time.” I fiddle with my hands in my lap as Carson sets the grill.

He nods, but I don’t think he’s listening to me. I don’t know who is more nervous, him or me. I’m a little nervous he’s about to start a propane tank fire.

“Carson?” I need him to acknowledge me, to talk me out of the rising anxiety bubbling up my throat.

Not only have I not seen his parents, but I haven’t had an intimate dinner with weighted implications since … hell, eons ago. I’m still not accustomed to being social, to making small talk or having to answer questions.

He turns to me, his dark eyes roaming my body in its white jeans and red crewneck sweater. I heat beneath my autumn clothing, my nipples tightening. It was inexplicable the way that we reacted to each other, like someone turned a light switch and we crackled with electricity. His dark hair blew in the slight breeze, and his strong jaw ticked. I wanted to know what fantasy he was playing over in his mind, but stress was still pushing down on my shoulders.

“Do you think they hate me?” I voice my biggest fear about tonight.

Carson’s eyes warm and his full lips spread into a small smile. Moving towards me, he takes a seat straddling the picnic bench I sit on and pulls me towards him.

“No one could ever hate you. We definitely all have some things to sort out, but they’re just as nervous, if not more, as you. I promise. They want this to go well. My mom was enjoying talking about you the other day to me, she wants to know what you’ve been up to.”

I leaned into his chest, staring straight ahead and not wanting to look at him with insecurity in my eyes. “I shut them out of my life. Just like I did to you. Do you know how stupid I feel now? All of this wasted time …”

I could have had a mother and a father when mine had left. I could have had a family. I could have had Carson had I not retreated and used Joel’s death like my martyr flag to bear.

“It works both ways, baby. I could have come to my senses, I could have fought harder. I could have said to hell with your space and forced you to see me. Slept on your porch for a month until you let me in like the dog I am.”

He tickles me a little, and I can’t help but smile at those last few words.

“Ah see, there’s my girl. You know, I could be persuaded to call the whole thing off.” A wet tongue finds my earlobe, and then teeth begin to nibble sensual love bites along the rim of my ear.

I can’t help the moan that escapes as my hand goes to the crook of his pants. I find him over his cargo pants, hard and pulsing. God, how good it would feel to just erase my mind for an hour, to let him take me inside and wipe away all of the thoughts and insecurities.

“You’re too good at distracting me …” His hand is making slow circles over my stomach and I’m panting to see if he pulls at the hem of my sweater.

“I have ten years of exploring your body to make up for, what else do you think I think about?” He turns my chin so that my lips fuse with his, our tongues tangling, slowly heating our bloodstreams to a furious boil.

I pull away, my breath coming in labored puffs. “Not right now. The last thing I need is for your parents to arrive and I’m half undressed.”

Carson sighs. “You’re right. And I need to figure out how to make these steaks before I leave us all hungry and chewing at each other’s throats.”

His joke sets me a little bit more on edge, and I think he feels my shoulders get tight.

“Hey, hey, I’m just kidding. Everything is going to be great.” He kisses me hastily before moving back to the grill.

I go inside to prepare the warm potato and zucchini medley, and a bowl of garlic mashed cauliflower. It’s soothing work, all the cutting and slicing. I don’t really have to think about it, it’s just rhythmic as the songs of Maren Morris play in the background. After I place all of the sliced vegetables into a chafing dish and pop them in the oven, I take the steamed cauliflower and add it to the mixing bowl.

It’s nearly forty minutes later when the doorbell chimes, and I’m broken from my reverie. Panic hits me square in the gut, and I can’t help but shuffle my feet back and forth as I look at the door. Carson is outside, and he hasn’t heard the arrival of his parents. Should I go out and get him so he can grab the door?

No. I need to face this, to be a grown-up. I’m nearly there, facing all of my fears and slaying every last one of them.

Wiping my hands, I move to open the front door. “Hi there, come on in.”

My voice is cheery, and I can tell that Jaclyn and Mickey are trying to be as polite and jovial as possible. “Hi, Blake, so nice to see you.”

Our greeting feels forced and uncomfortable, and I can tell that no one wants to step on anyone’s toes.

“We brought a bottle of wine.” Mickey holds out the bottle like it’s going to solve all of our problems.

Thank God that Carson walks in at the moment. “Mom! Dad! Thanks for coming. Welcome to my humble abode.

He hugs them and then decides to take them on a tour of his newly furnished house. I helped pick out some tasteful pieces last week, and had arranged them with some simple decor. It still looked like a bachelor pad, but maybe one with good taste.

I decide not to go on the tour, but instead busy myself preparing the rest of dinner. I hear their voices talking through the rooms, exclaiming and asking questions. The bond between them is sweet, he’s always been close with his parents as an only child. It makes me smile, but there is a pang in my heart from the loss of my own family.

“Dinner smells delicious.” Jaclyn’s voice comes into the kitchen, followed by her husband and son.

“It was mostly Carson, I just helped.” I still don’t know how not to be extremely awkward.

He goes to grab the steaks from the grill, and we all sit down to dinner.

“Shall we say grace?” Jaclyn looks around expectantly, and I forgot that their family always did this.

Grace in my household had been made up of baseball talk and which album my father had been quizzing us on lately.

Carson reached for my hand and took his father’s in his other. His father took his mother’s hand. And then she looked to mine, waiting for me to hold her hand.

Slowly, I placed my fingers in hers, and feel … warm. It’s been a long time since I had a parent-figure care for me. And I never had a mother care for me in the way that Jaclyn had.

They all bow their heads and close their eyes, and I mimic their actions. After they recite a prayer that I know none of the words to, they smile at each other and start to eat.

I feel so left out, I shouldn’t even be here. I have no family anymore, and although I have Carson, do his parents want me? Do they think I’m good enough for their son? After everything that happened, how could they?

“So Blake, Carson tells me you’re doing some graphic work for the company?” Mickey asks and then puts a piece of steak in his mouth.

I nod, taking a sip of wine. “I am, it’s very fulfilling. I love the horses, so it’s great to be able to work with them and for them.”

“I’d love to see some of your work, I love those graphics you made up for the Blue Lagoon restaurant.” Jaclyn smiles at me like a proud mama bear.

My skin prickles, and I can’t sit here for one more minute feeling like another shoe is about to drop. My social skills and anxiety aren’t equipped for polite, fake conversations.

“I’m sorry … can we … this feels awkward.” I take a relieved breath because the elephant is finally acknowledged.

“Oh good, someone said it.” Mickey put his silverware down.

Carson clears his throat. “Uh, babe …”

“No, she’s right, son. There is some big tensions sitting in the middle of this table and it needs to be talked about.” His dad pats his hand.

I take a deep breath, because I need to say my part. “I want to apologize first and foremost. For a lot of years, I held a lot of anger and pain towards your son. After my brother died, I was the one who banished him from our home, the reason why he left. I feel responsible for that. I feel responsible for a lot of things. But … we have been trying to move past that. And I hope … I hope you can forgive me for that. I hope that we can be as close as we once were, because … well, I love Carson.

When I look up, Jaclyn’s eyes are teary. “No, honey. Don’t apologize. Please. We are the ones who should be apologizing. I have felt guilty every day of the last ten years. We were the adults, we should have patched things up. I should have insisted Carson come home, made him speak to you. In any case, I should have never left you alone. I should have pushed, I should have tried to remain in your life. You were like a daughter to me, and I abandoned you. I feel guilty every day for that.”

She blots her eyes with a napkin, and realization blooms in my chest. I had no idea she felt this way.

“Neither of you are guilty. You are human. Life happens, and so does regret. But dwelling on it will do nothing, and I want us to use this time to heal and get to know one and other again. Not that I thought it would happen this soon.” Carson smiles at me. “But I’m glad you’re finding a voice, babe.”

There are a few sniffles between Jaclyn and I as we regroup.

I look around the table. “I’d like that. Truly.”

“As would I.” She reaches for my hand.

“Good, now can I go back to my steak. It looks much more appetizing without the elephant sitting in the corner of the room.” Mickey digs back into his plate.

Carson laughs. “You always did know just the right thing to say, Dad.”