Chapter Twenty-Five
We got showered together and dressed slowly. Mallory clasped her silver locket around her neck. She rarely took it off.
“Where did you get this?” I asked, lifting it to my lips.
Mallory smiled, but darkness crossed her face. “It was my mother’s.”
“Speaking of mothers, mine has called every ten minutes since nine.” As if on cue, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out with a devious grin and showed Mallory. She tensed beside me, but she didn’t push me away. We were definitely making progress in that regard. “And I’m going to tell her we’re on our way home.” I swiped the screen. “Hey, Mom.”
“Thank God. Aaron, where are you? I thought you’d be back by now.” The tremors in her voice turned into guilt in my stomach.
“We’re getting ready to leave, actually.” I stopped, squeezing Mallory against me.
“Stop by the store and get more milk. Your father forgot it.” Mom sighed, letting her disappointment fill her breath. “What took you so long? You said you’d be back by now.”
I stared at Mallory as I answered. “Mallory’s sink was clogged.” And we needed to take a shower.
“Mal—” Her voice hitched, rising an octave. “Just get home.”
“Relax, Mom.” I sighed like she did, just to get my point across. “We’ll see you in a few hours.”
I ended the call before she could argue any further. We grabbed Mallory’s bag and pushed the door open. The cold air blasted against my cheeks. It was going to snow sooner rather than later, and I hoped we’d make it back before it started. We ran to the truck, climbing inside before the dropping temps could freeze us completely.
“Your mother’s going to hate me,” Mallory said as her teeth chattered over the roar of the heater.
“Probably.” I paused, not really wanting to admit what she didn’t want to hear. But we didn’t lie to each other.
“Great.”
I reached out and turned her chin until she faced me. “Don’t worry. She’s not the one you need to impress.”
Mallory raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Nope. My little sister’s the real judge, jury, and executioner.” I smiled. “She doesn’t hold back her opinion very often.”
“Then I will be on my best behavior.” Mallory put her hands on her lap and sat as if she had a stick up her butt. But the grin fighting for freedom on her face was anything but ladylike.
“And, as for the sleeping arrangements, my room is right next to Chelsea’s. Nobody will know the difference.”
Mallory’s laugh filled the cab. “You’re crazy. Now get on the road before I change my mind.”
I leaned across the bench seat and kissed her. “Don’t ever change your mind about me, love.”
The snow started as I turned down the road to our house. Mallory tensed beside me. Once my tires hit gravel, she knew we were almost there. I reached across the seat and squeezed her hand. She turned with a smile, warming the cab more than the heater.
The house loomed into view. Mallory’s sharp intake of breath after we crested the small hill surprised me. I knew our house was big, but she stared at it like it was a Hollywood mansion. The two-story white farmhouse with a wraparound porch was nowhere near a mansion, but I could see why she might think it was. The front door opened, and Chelsea bounced down, twirling in the snow.
“White Christmas,” she shouted, adding a “woohoo” for emphasis.
The truck had barely come to a stop when Chelsea opened Mallory’s door and yanked her down with a hug.
“Oh my God, I’m so happy to meet you,” Chelsea squealed.
Mallory smiled, but the tension in her neck signaled her discomfort.
“Back off, Chels.” I strode around the front of the truck and wrapped my arm around Mallory’s shoulders. “I don’t need you scaring her off. Let her see your freak flag later.”
“Suck it, Aaron.” Chelsea stared at me with a glint of mischief in her eyes. I didn’t back down. Our gazes locked in intense competition. Under my arm, Mallory’s tension turned her to stone. Chelsea cracked first, laughter erupting from her mouth before she smiled.
“You lose.” I punched her arm gently and reached into the cab for Mallory’s bag, tossing it toward my sister. “Your punishment is to take this to your room.”
Chelsea cocked her hip with Mallory’s bag over her shoulder. “Sure you don’t want to? The firing squad’s loading their rifles.”
I grimaced at her choice of phrasing. “I can handle Mom.”
“Oh, it’s not just Mom. Grandma Jean and Grandma Eddie are sharpening their bayonets.” Chelsea shook her head and turned her gaze to Mallory. “Sorry, but they’re going to bring out the big guns for you. Just a fair warning. Dad, on the other hand, has Grandpa Len and Grandpa Vincent half sloshed already. So there’s that.”
Chelsea turned on her heel and strode into the house. The screen door slammed behind her, almost hitting her in the ass. I squeezed Mallory closer.
“You ready for this?”
She shook her head and stared at the front door. “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.”
“Look at me,” I whispered. She turned toward me and I put my hands on each side of her face so she couldn’t look away. “It doesn’t matter what they think. Just remember that.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
I lost myself in her eyes for a moment and bent to kiss her. Before my lips brushed against hers, a loud, embarrassing voice screeched through the cold December air.
“Pumpkin boy, get your sorry ass inside and stop letting that poor girl freeze to her death.” Grandma Jean stood on the porch with a shawl draped over her shoulders. Her gray hair curled in tight cues around her head, and her reading glasses hung from the chain. Despite her grandmotherly appearance, Grandma Jean could probably still whip my ass and not break a sweat. “Get on.”
“Here we go,” I whispered to Mallory from the corner of my mouth. “If I can survive Monroe’s class, you can definitely survive this.”
Mallory snorted, but she didn’t say anything else. Grandma Jean held the door open for us, smacking my butt as I passed her. The old lady was crazy, and I loved it. Mallory stopped inside the door. The foyer was small, but it opened quickly to the large living room. She stepped slowly forward, her head lifting to the exposed beams on the ceiling before moving toward the large fireplace on the far wall. As usual, Dad had gone too big on the Christmas tree, and it took up half the back wall near the dining room.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
Grandma Jean skirted around us and sauntered toward the kitchen. Mallory matched her pace, pausing only at the wall of family photos. She glanced over her shoulder and pointed to one of Chelsea and me covered in paint. We were eight and twelve and decided to paint a mural on the wall of the barn. It looked more like a two-year-old did it. We didn’t care. Fortunately, neither did Dad. Mom was a whole other story. That was a great day.
When we stepped into the kitchen, all eyes turned toward us.
Grandma Eddie was the opposite of Grandma Jean. She wore tight shirts and short skirts as if she had never aged past twenty-nine. Her piercing green eyes took in every inch of Mallory before she huffed and went back to peeling potatoes. Mom stared longer before finally stepping forward as the silence in the room threatened to strangle us.
“Mom, this is Mallory.” I let my arm drop from around her shoulders and reached for her hand, but Mallory was already moving forward.
“Hi, Mrs. Betts. Thank you so much for inviting me into your home.” Mallory’s voice was sugary sweet as she reached out her hand to take my mother’s. Grandma Jean pushed my chin up, closing my mouth. “What can I do to help?”
“You ever peel a potato, girl?” Grandma Eddie pointed to the mass of unpeeled potatoes on the table.
“Of course,” Mallory said. She moved around Grandma Eddie and sat on the other side of the table, picking up a peeler and a potato. “We should have these done in no time.”
I stared at her, knowing she was doing whatever it took for them to like her and a little pissed that she was choosing to hang with the old ladies instead of me. Mallory glanced up and winked. The mischievous look in her eye made me nervous.
“So, Grandma Eddie,” Mallory said as if she’d known the old lady her whole life, “what was Aaron like as a boy?”
Oh shit. Both grandmas smiled and stared at Mallory with glee.
“Well, child, I have stories that will straighten that hair of yours.”
Mallory raised her eyebrows, and with that look, she told me to get out. As I left the kitchen, I heard Grandma Jean mention my matador attempts with a very lazy bull. My face burned with embarrassment. I would never live that down.
Christmas Eve dinner went by in a rush of holiday cheer. I barely saw Mallory as she endeared herself to my family. The grandmas loved her in no time, and the grandpas were even more easily persuaded.
“Now, Ms. Fine, I hear you’re quite knowledgeable about the game of baseball. Or is my boy just bullshitting me?” Dad shredded a roll as he spoke, not once bothering to look down at the table. I knew this game. He was challenging. I sat back and crossed my arms, anxious for the show to begin.
“I know a few things.” Mallory swirled her gravy into her mashed potatoes.
“Watch this,” I whispered to Chelsea. “Dad’s going down.”
Dad nodded and picked up another roll. “Okay, then. How tall is the Green Monster?”
I snorted and Mallory quickly elbowed my side. “The left field wall at Fenway Park is thirty-seven feet tall.”
“Who won the first World Series in 1904?” Dad finally glanced up from his pile of bread.
“The first World Series was held in 1903. There wasn’t one in 1904.” Mallory leaned forward and put her arms on the table. “And Boston won the nine game series.”
He leaned in, pressing his hands on the table. I glanced at Mallory who matched his stance.
“Who was the shortest man ever to play a Major League game?” he asked.
Mallory grinned. “Eddie Gaedel. He was three-seven and wore number one-eighth for the St. Louis Browns. He walked on four consecutive balls and never set foot in the batter’s box again.”
Dad raised an eyebrow and leaned back. They kept going, but he couldn’t stump her, and that stumped him. It was fun to watch.
Mom refused to warm up to Mallory. She was polite, but never really kind. Mallory sensed it. I could see the way she stared at my mother as if Mom was a puzzle Mallory could solve. But Mom was pushing me too far. Mallory was nothing but polite. My blood boiled and I started to stand, but Mallory put her hand on my thigh. I sat back in my seat, my leg bouncing in aggravation.
“The ham is great, Mrs. Betts. What type of rub did you use on it?” Mallory tilted her head and smiled at my mother.
“Pineapple.”
The blunt answer would’ve been enough to stop most people. Not Mallory. She kept peppering Mom with questions about dinner. By the time the meal was over, Mom wouldn’t even respond. That simply pissed me off more. Mom had been nothing but supportive of me my entire life. Why she would be such a bitch now was beyond me. I wanted to scream at her, to tell her to get her head out of her ass.
Mallory offered to help the grandmas with the dishes while Mom and I cleared the dining room table. I waited until nobody else was around before I said anything.
“Stop it, Mom,” I said through clenched teeth, blocking the door to the kitchen. My arms were filled with plates covered in the remnants of turkey and ham.
Mom smiled and patted my shoulder like the good little boy I wasn’t. “Stop what, dear?”
“Stop treating Mallory like a disease. She’s great, and you need to give her a chance, because she’s not going anywhere if I can help it.” I shook my head. “I love her. You need to accept that.”
“You say that now, but how do you know you really mean it?” Mom moved to go around me, but I blocked her path again.
“I know because when I look at her, I see someone I can spend the rest of my life with. I see someone I can grow old with. I see someone I’d give my own life for.” I let my eyes hold hers, my anger dissipated, but my frustrations did not. How could she not get it? “Mom, I see in her the life you want me to have with someone else.”
Mom reached up and touched my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn’t known had fallen. “My God, you really mean that.”
I could only nod.
Mom inhaled deeply and stood straighter. “Then I’ll try harder.”
“Thank you.”
I moved so she could head into the kitchen and turned to follow. Mallory stood in the door with her hands squeezing each other. I stared at her, not sure how much she heard or if I was really ready for her to hear any of that. Our relationship was so rocky that a simple teeter one way would send us over the precipice.
“Did you mean all that?” she asked.
“Every word,” I replied, knowing that the wind was blowing us one way when I didn’t want it to move.
Mallory didn’t say anything as she took half the plates from my arms and carried them into the kitchen. We worked side by side, scraping the food stuck to the dishes into the trash. Mom’s precious china had to be hand-washed, and only she was allowed to do it. Mallory dried, and I put them back in their cabinet until next year. The grandmas loaded the dishwasher, and then sat and watched us do the rest. They bickered with each other, but the rest of us remained quiet. Mallory slipped out of the kitchen as I finished the plates.
“She heard you.” Mom wiped down the sink. “You hadn’t told her any of that, yet, had you?”
“Not in so many words.” I tucked the towels under the handle of the oven.
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated.”
Mom laughed, and the grandmas joined in.
“It always is. Now go uncomplicate it,” Grandma Jean said. “Before I whoop your ass until you do.”
“How…?” The words bit against my tongue, wanting to be said, but I wasn’t sure if it was something my mom needed to hear.
“How what, Pumpkin boy?” Grandma Jean asked. I raised my head to meet the intense stare of a woman wiser than I’d ever be. “How do you tell the girl? You already did.”
I never let my gaze leave Grandma Jean’s. “How can I feel so much for someone I don’t really know?”
“What in the world are you talking about?” Grandma Eddie slapped her hand on the table. “You’ve spent enough time with the girl to fall for her; you can’t tell me you don’t know her.”
Mom put her hand on my arm, but I never broke my stare-down with my favorite grandparent.
Grandma Jean stood and took my hands. “Love doesn’t mean knowing someone, Aaron. I’ve spent damn near forty-five years with Grandpa, and we’re still getting to know each other. Every day, month, year, we grow. We change. You never really know someone, but you know how you feel about them. And loving someone means wanting to continue to learn and grow with each other.” She squeezed my fingers and let go. “Now, go tell that girl what you need.”
I chuckled. “She knows.”
“Overhearing something and having it said to your face is different, Pumpkin boy.” Grandma Jean turned me around by my shoulders and pushed me toward the door. “Go.”
Shaking my head, I took off in the same direction Mallory disappeared to and ran straight into Chelsea. She slammed one hand on my chest and offered me my coat with the other.
“I don’t know what you did to scare her, but she took off outside.” Chelsea smacked my cheek much like Grandma Eddie would’ve if I’d let her. “Fix it. I like her.”
“Me, too.” I grabbed my coat and kissed Chelsea on the forehead. “Thanks, sis. Which way do you think she went?”
“If it were me, I’d head for the big barn. Lots of places to hide and warm enough to stay outside for a long time.” Chelsea smiled. “Besides, I told her to go there so she could have some quiet time. I just didn’t promise to keep it quiet.”
I nodded, appreciating Chelsea’s talent for twisting things to suit her own needs. Grandma Jean was right. Mallory needed to hear me say how much I needed her in my life. I’d told her I loved her more than once, but her trust was more fragile than a spider web in a tornado.
The wind burned my face as soon as I set foot outside. Snow swirled as it fell. Taking Chelsea’s direction, I hurried toward the big barn south of the regular size garage. The barn held the combine and tractors for the farm. There was also an office with a couch, TV, and electric heater. When we were kids, Chelsea and I would “run away” from home just to hide out in Dad’s barn office.
I opened the door and found Mallory admiring the combine. Her gloved fingers traced the airbrushed words “Betts Family Farm” on the side. Dad liked to show off.
“Your family’s amazing,” she said without glancing toward me.
I hesitated at the door. “They have their moments.”
She laughed, but it had to be the saddest laugh I’d ever heard. The hesitation disappeared, and I strolled up to her.
“Mallory…”
“Don’t.” Tears clogged her throat before spilling from her eyes. “Please, Aaron, don’t.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets and tried to quell the anger growing inside me. This girl was everything I ever wanted, everything I needed. How could she keep pushing me away? Grandma Jean was right. I had to clear the air, and I had to do it before I lost my nerve.
“Stop pushing me away.” I put my hands on her shoulders and turned her toward me. She tried to twist away, but I moved my hands to either side of her face and made her look me in the eye. “I’ve treaded lightly around you for so long, but I can’t do it anymore. Everything you heard me tell my mother, everything I’ve held back from you… You need to hear it again. You need to see that it’s very real.” I pressed my forehead against hers and inhaled her soft vanilla scent. So pure, so simple, so Mallory. My fingers massaged her temple and slid down to her neck as I leaned back so she could see my face. “I can’t imagine not having you in my life. I can’t think of a scenario where we won’t be together. Because that would destroy me. Even when I thought for a moment you might not care about me, I tried to figure out a way to forget these feelings. But I can’t.”
I stared at her, waiting for her to say anything. She closed her eyes but said nothing.
“Damn it, Mallory. Talk to me. Whatever it is, whatever makes you put up these walls, we can get past it.”
“I don’t…” Mallory pulled away from me. She pressed her palms down her chest as she took a big breath. “Your family is everything I wished mine was. Maybe…maybe you’d be better off with someone like Trish, someone who doesn’t have all this baggage. I just…I don’t fit. I’m the square peg here.”
I pulled her back into my arms. “You don’t need to try to fit in anywhere. They need to accept you. And they do already. You’re worrying about nothing.”
“Nothing?” Mallory smacked my chest. Anger radiated off her. “This is huge for me, and you know it. I just…I need time to process.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Did you just smack me?”
“Not where I wanted to,” Mallory said. Her anger cooled with a grin.
“You know, I can think of a way to help you process this situation.” I pressed my lips against her neck. “The cab of the combine is bigger than you think.”
Mallory’s head fell back and a moan escaped her lips.
“There’s a hayloft we can explore.” I kissed along her jaw. “And Dad’s office has a couch, too.”
“Stop talking, Aaron,” Mallory said before capturing my mouth with hers.
She stepped back toward the office, and I opened the door with my foot. The latch broke years ago. We fell onto the couch and I showed her how much she belonged with me.