Something In Between: Sequel to On The Edge of Tomorrow

Chapter 21

Thanksgiving with my family went surprisingly well. My mother was smitten with Sam from the moment he entered, holding a bouquet.

"He's so handsome and charming," my mom gushed as I helped her in the kitchen, leaving Sam alone with my father.

"I'm glad you like him." I popped a grape in my mouth to stop myself from saying more.

Sam was charming and handsome, but the compliment felt like a slap to Billy. My mom had never even met Billy, but the thought of me dating a musician sent her through the roof.

"IT is an excellent field to be in; it's growing. They say it on the news all the time." The wheels in my mom's head were spinning so fast I thought smoke would come out of her ears.

"Mmhmm," I murmured.

She took my distraction as a sign that I wanted to get back to Sam's side, which I did, but it wasn't the root of my distraction. "Go, save Sam from whatever history lesson he's getting from your father."

I found my dad and Sam in the living room with my brother and sister. Sam struggled to stay in the conversation with my dad; his eyelids teetered with sleep.

"What are we talking about?" I asked as I slipped to Sam's side.

"Oh, I was telling Sam here about a book on the black plague I just read. Do you know why the masked the doctors wore had those beaks?" My dad's eyes glimmered, hoping he had stumped me.

"I believe it was so they maintained a certain distance from the patients they cared for." I smiled an apologetic grimace for knowing the answer. The back of my mind recalled that I knew this because of a book I borrowed from Billy.

"That's right; I guess we must read some of the same things." There was an air of apology in my dad's tone.

"Well, we're related," I smiled, but something felt off.

"Dinner is served," my mom called from the other room.

"Lily, could you help me with the wine?" My dad asked as he lingered in the living room.

"Sure, Dad."

Sam softly kissed me on the temple as he followed my siblings to the table.

"I'm sorry about that. I forgot where I got the recommendation," my dad sputtered.

"So, you stay in touch?"

I knew Billy and my dad had hit it off at a leisurely lunch in Portland when they met at the end of the previous summer. My mom was, by design, unable to attend. I knew they'd be fast friends, but it was even quicker than I'd expected. They shared similar tastes in music and odd topics. The conversation lingered on taxidermy for much of the lunch despite my protests.

"Not too often, but he's called a few times..." My dad's voice dropped.

"It's okay, Dad. I'm glad you consider each other friends. I just started reconnecting with Mary and Tim."

My dad's smile broadened. "I think that's great. Mary is such a fascinating woman."

"Have you spoken?" My brows furrowed.

"Yes, a couple of times. Billy connected us because we share an interest in old cribbage boards. I found one at a yard sale a few months back, and Billy made the connection."

"I could see you two getting along." In my head, my dad and Mary would become fast friends.

"Does Sam know?" My dad asked.

"Of course, I told him as soon as I got off the phone with Mary."

"No, I mean, does he know about Billy?"

"Well, he knows I have an ex named Billy." I hadn't considered withholding Billy's profession a lie, but it suddenly felt like it when talking to my dad. "I just don't think talking about Billy is fair to either Billy or Sam."

"No, I agree. The good news here is that your mother seems completely oblivious to who Billy is. She still thinks he is some struggling garage band guy with no hope of a future." A laugh erupted from his chest.

"How is he?" I could ask my dad; he wouldn't judge.

"Well, we don't talk about you much, but he seems good. He's mentioned that he's been writing a lot more. That last album was..." my dad's voice went distant.

"I haven't heard it," I quickly offered. I wanted to keep my ignorance of Billy's work.

"You haven't heard any of it, not even the ones..." My dad slightly nodded his head. "It was well executed." He evenly added. "And Sam seems very nice."

My dad calling Sam 'very nice' meant he found him dull and had little in common with him. It was a blow.

"We should get to lunch," I mustered a smile.

I needed to stop having Billy pop up in all of my milestones with Sam. It was stifling. Even more annoying, I couldn't blame Billy. My mind kept betraying me and shoving him to the front.

When I was a child, my dad and I played a game called connections; one of us would select two seemingly unrelated items, and the other would try to connect them through history. I loved it and found my mind naturally stumbling into self-induced matches when boredom penetrated my thoughts. Boredom did not induce today's game; it was as though my mind was punishing me. Green napkins were used on the table, so my mind flickered to Tim eating a napkin to get out of eating vegetables as a child. Of course, Tim was only one step away from Billy, not to mention that Tim stole Billy's name because of a comparison to a billy goat after the incident. My mom selected Gene Vincent for background music; Gene Vincent was Billy's favorite. Even my brother sported a tragically destressed malt shop t-shirt, pulling my mind to chocolate malts and Billy.

"You okay?" Sam murmured with a squeeze of my knee.

"Yeah, sorry. I think I'm overwhelmed by all the eating ahead of us," I weakly smiled.

"I'd fill up here. My mom's great at many things, but cooking isn't one of them."

I stifled my frustrated groan. Sam was perfect; I had to focus on him. Billy was my past; Sam could very well be my future. I took a refilling breath and dug into my mom's stuffing.

Sam was right about his mom's cooking; the turkey was dry, the stuffing was soupy, and the vegetables were indistinguishable. Still, we lingered over the meal for over two hours. Sam's parents were like him, kind, warm, and funny. A somber feeling filled me when we said our goodbyes; I wanted to stay longer. It extended to the ride home, where silence filled the car.

"Hey," Sam's voice came quietly, "what's going on?"

"Nothing. I kind of already miss your parents. They were so sweet," I admitted.

"Well, I can assure you the feeling was mutual. I expect I'll start hearing the relationship prodding tomorrow at the latest," Sam squeezed my knee.

"Tomorrow at the latest?"

"My mom has learned to text, so I have that in my life now," he absently spoke as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building.

"Give her my number; I love texting!" A flash of excitement surged through me.

"Consider it done, but don't say I didn't warn you," he smiled before pulling himself out of the car. "So," he continued as I melted to his side as we made our way to the building, "we've met the parents; milestone achieved. Next step, maybe you'd want to go to my company holiday party next weekend?" There was tentative hope in his voice.

"Office party?"

"Yeah, it's a bit stuffy and old school, but there's an open bar and a chance to dance." He squeezed my hand as he spoke.

"You dance?" The party sounded very enticing.

"I dance, given the right circumstances." He held the door for me, and as I passed, his hand fell to the small of my back, sending a warmth soaring through my core.

"I'm in." It was easy to agree. I was even looking forward to it.