Her thin shoulders slumped, as if she’d fully recalled how busy Easter weekend was for the boarding business. Mad house didn’t begin to cover it—we were chin deep in four-legged fur balls!
With a heavy sigh, as if she could exhale that exhausting reality away, Mama set the lily on the table and took up the tray of deliciousness. “Justin, would you like a cookie?”
His gaze fell to the tray of homemade treats and his boyish smile changed.
I wasn’t sure if it was the endearment or the snack. Couldn’t really read the emotion behind it. But as Justin stared at the collection of misshapen, oozing chocolate cookies in my mother’s hand, something in him altered.
The knot in his throat bobbed with a swallow and his eyes glazed as he reached out with a slightly trembling hand and took the nearest one. “Thanks, Mrs. Williams.”
“You’re welcome, hun,” Mama replied softly, concern creasing her forehead. But she didn’t push. She’d raised my two brothers, and always said, “boys only talk when they’re ready.” Instead, she gave him a genuine smile and said, “And please, call me Grace.”
Justin nodded and nibbled a corner of the treat, his pain palpable. Wishing I knew how to fix that didn’t make it any better, either. Thankfully, as he chewed, he found a different sort of help—the kind that came from my mother’s kitchen. The woman didn’t win awards for nothing.
“These are really good,” he said, snatching another one, and for a moment, the mood lightened. We all laughed and grabbed a cookie of our own, even Dad, and snacked in somewhat comfortable silence until Justin dusted his hands of crumbs. “So, where should I put my stuff?”
Crap. Just like that, good feelings vanished and embarrassment and utter awkwardness took their place. Something told me it wouldn’t be the only time that happened this weekend.
“Right. About that.” Here came the only drawback of my master plan. “You’re actually… kind of staying in the doghouse.”
Justin’s jaw dropped. “Kind of?”
“Okay, you’re totally staying in the doghouse,” I clarified with a sigh. “Apparently Dad thinks you’re gonna try and steal my virtue.”
My father choked on his cookie. Crumbs flew as he sputtered and coughed, beet red, though I spoke the God’s honest truth, and Mama pounded his back as she fought a fit of giggles. She found amusement in all life’s challenges.
“Oh, that’s not it,” she told him with a smile, then tilted her head as she reconsidered her words. “At least, that’s not the only reason you’re outside.”
The giggles won out, Mama’s eyes twinkling like she’d shared the punch line of a joke, and I smacked my palm against my forehead.
Justin looked mortified. He turned to me with wide eyes and I shook my head at his silent question. Nope, I hadn’t told my parents a single thing. Our platonic pact for the parentals was still in effect. Mine were simply old-fashioned worry-warts who distrusted any non-related Y-chromosome who waltzed through the door.
Perhaps noticing Justin’s slightly green complexion, Mama had the decency to appear sheepish. “We trust you both,” she assured him, as if reading my mind. “But we converted our sons’ bedroom into an office last year, and there’s already a comfortable guest room set up in the doghouse.”
She winced a bit, only now seeming to fully grasp how weird this was. Asking our holiday guest to sleep with a bunch of dogs. Luckily, she rambled when she got nervous.
“You’d honestly be doing us a huge favor,” she went on, no doubt making it worse. “We have a solid security system and have increased staff for the week, but it’ll give me so much peace of mind having you out there, keeping an ear out. We’ve got a packed house with all the families leaving town and needing to board their babies...”
Mama trailed off, but her mouth stayed open like she was wishing the words back inside.
Justin laughed humorlessly. “Then I’ll fit right in.”
My heart squeezed. More than anything, I wanted to hug him, wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and tell him everything would be all right. That his parents sucked and none of this was his fault. But I couldn’t do any of that. Not with our two adult-sized shadows looming over us.
I bumped his shoulder with mine. “Let’s go get you settled, huh?”
Justin gave me a tight smile and Mama thanked me with her eyes. As he shouldered his bag and snagged the half dozen cookies my mom shoved at him, I pushed open the door. When Dad mentioned tomorrow’s practice and what time they needed to leave, I silently crept out onto the porch, needing a moment alone.
Outside, stars punched holes into the dark. The air was still and warm, but I folded my arms against my chest anyway, feeling a chill in my bones. I took a deep breath, inhaled the scent of pine, and leaned against the porch rail.