42| Whipped Cream for Your Thoughts?
IT'S not like I had bad memories with my family, so why was I feeling so weird when Tyler asked me about spending Thanksgiving with them? I had happy memories. I really did. I remember loving my trips to the store a few blocks away from our house, gathering groceries and crafting supplies, and getting things together. When I was younger, I helped my mom cook, and then she kind of just let me take over for the most part when I entered my teen years. It was because she knew I liked to do it, and so my mom and my dad would leave the house for the entire day, then come back pretty late when I'd gotten everything ready. They never ate much, but it was okay because I could eat a lot. I had a huge appetite, especially when volleyball became a bigger part of my life.
I don't know why it all suddenly made me feel weird, but I tried to push that weirdness away. Because it was Thanksgiving, and it was one of the best happy days of the year, and Tyler and all my friends were here. I wanted it to be amazing. I think maybe I was just missing my parents, and that's why things felt a little off.
So Tyler helped me set up the table, and soon enough, everyone was sitting down, crammed side by side. The kids were sitting at a smaller table in the living room, where they could still watch their Barbie in peace.
Except peace was hard to attain with so many people in such a little space. With so much food and an overcrowded table.
"Alright, who's having sparkling cider, and who's having wine?" Noah asked from the kitchen.
"Did anybody get the butter out of the fridge?" Jeremy asked.
"That was your job," Cayden said, attempting to scoop some mashed potatoes onto his plate until Jeremy swatted his hand away, and mashed potatoes were flung onto the wall behind them.
"Ah, my favorite wall decor!" Cayden exclaimed, glaring at Jeremy.
"Wine for me," Logan said, taking a roll from the center of the table and looking around, searching for something. "The hell is the butter?"
"We just went over this, actually–"
"I know you're not giving me that same sass," Logan snapped, and Jeremy immediately shut up. "Noah, get the butter!"
"I'm literally trying to pour wine," Noah said, then quickly added, "But yes, of course dear, let me get the butter!"
"You can't have these rolls without butter," Logan said to me. "Sparkling cider?"
I nodded, and she yelled for Noah to get me a glass of cider, and Tyler opted for the same.
"It's not Thanksgiving without sparkling cider," he said.
I grinned. "You're completely right."
Noah carried everyone's drinks to the table in a few trips, then finally took his seat at the end of the table beside Logan.
"The butter, Noah!" Logan and Jeremy yelled at the same time.
Noah sighed and got right back up, heading into the kitchen to grab the butter. When he returned, the butter was on the table, and Logan was the first to reach it.
"Oh, that was low even for you!" Jeremy exclaimed. "You know I wanted the butter first!"
"Am I allowed to have mashed potatoes now, or do you want to do some more splatter paint on the wall first?" Cayden asked.
"Har-har!"
"Ladies first," Logan said, "and from the looks of it, the only lady at this table is me."
"AND US!" Hunter yelled from the living room. "WHEN IS DESSERT?"
"Eat your real food first, and then we'll talk," Logan said.
"Apple pie isn't even in the oven yet, and my stomach isn't gonna be ready for that sweetness until a few hours have passed because I'm at least having 5 rolls," Jeremy said. "If I could ever get the butter!"
"Oh, you are a pain in my ass–"
Noah, being the saint he was, started tapping his fork on the edge of his wine glass. It was surprising how effective the little dings were at getting people to be quiet and pay attention.
"Alright, chaotic people, calm down," Noah said, setting his fork aside. "We've all worked hard to get all this food prepared, and Clay has worked wonders with the decor this year. It's already been a chaos-filled day, and I think we deserve some peace, and to enjoy this food over some appreciative, light conversation. May I make a toast?"
"Aren't you kind of in the middle of that already?" Jeremy said.
"Do you need the butter?" Logan offered, and Noah rolled his eyes, clearing his throat.
"A toast," Noah said, "to spending Thanksgiving with the best people I've ever known. Some I've known basically forever, some I used to hate and have grown to love undeniably, and some are new, who I don't know very well myself, but nonetheless appreciate."
He was looking at Tyler, who smiled at the toast. Special recognition. I squeezed his hand under the table.
"And a toast, of course..."
This was where I always came in. I knew my cue.
I stood up, raised my glass, and finished the toast as always:
"...to our lord and savior, our queen and king all in one," I said, grinning, "Mr. Harry Styles!"
Everyone lifted their glasses, clinking them together. I sat down, and Tyler was giving me an amused look.
"Harry Styles, huh?" he said, taking a sip of his cider while I blushed profusely. It was a tradition, and momentarily, I'd forgotten Tyler had never witnessed my proclamation of Harry Styles' reign. Tyler winked. "Love a man with taste."
Love.
I gulped down some of my own cider, and knew that it was just a word. Just a little expression. He wasn't actually saying the words, but it felt really close, so it made my heart really, really excited.
"I need to shove this roll into my mouth before my stomach gets any angrier. I've starved myself all fucking day for this," Tyler said, grabbing a roll from the basket and going for it.
I watched him devour more than half the roll in one bite, and it really shouldn't have been attractive, it really shouldn't have made the butterflies in my chest go all crazy, and it really shouldn't have just enhanced the word love in my mind, but it did. I think maybe Logan could tell, when she made eye contact with me across the table, eyebrows ever so slightly raised in question. I barely shook my head, to dismiss her questioning look. There was suddenly a lot more on my mind than just the mashed potatoes I was piling on my plate.
My parents. Tyler. Falling. Loving him. So very much.
I was very thankful for all the food in front of me, suddenly even more thankful than I'd been in past years. It was going to keep my hands and mouth occupied, so that I didn't say something stupid and give away how anxious I suddenly was. Too many things all at once in this brain.
"Gravy, PC?" Cayden asked, motioning to the little gravy boat in front of him.
I smiled and nodded rapidly. "Yes please."
✿✿✿
The sliding door to the balcony opened, and I turned my head to see Tyler, two plates with pumpkin pie and whipped cream in his hands. He set them down on the little table Logan and Noah had out there, then closed the door, and handed me one of the plates.
"Thanks," I said. I leaned against the banister and looked out at the view of the city. Atlanta with its lights on, because even though the sun was down, the city wasn't ready to go down with it.
Tyler stood next to me, his arm pressed against mine. "I thought we'd start with the pumpkin pie, and if our appetites are surprisingly big enough, I'll grab us some of the apple."
"Deal," I said, scooping a bite of pumpkin pie into my mouth. "This is really good."
"Ethan has an impressive recipe for a little dude," Tyler said. "And I'm not too shabby at this baking thing."
"You're not even a little shabby. I might make you a baker, yet," I said, grinning at him.
I looked back out towards the Atlanta skyline, scooping bites of Tyler's pumpkin pie in my mouth. Maybe scooping too fast because even though it had been hours since dinner — we'd played a few games of Cards Against Humanity before the kids got restless, and I helped them build a fort and turn on a new Pixar movie I knew they'd love — but my mind was still preoccupied in more ways than one.
Tyler suddenly whipped out, well ... a can of whipped cream from his pocket, holding it out to me.
"Whipped cream for your thoughts?"
I sighed. "So I guess I'm not as good at hiding as I thought."
Tyler sprayed some more whipped cream onto my next bite, and he shook his head. "I'm no longer as utterly blind as I used to be. I can see the thinking wheels turning up in there." He gently tapped my forehead. "And we don't even have to talk about what might be going on in there—"
I turned to face him. "No, I know, but I should—"
"—I just want you to know that I can often times put my very obnoxious side away and be a great listener—"
"—and I should tell you why my brain is so foggy right now—"
"—because I care about you."
"—because I," I paused, stopped myself from saying the words. Because it would have been a disaster. So I took a second, and then reworded it. "Because I care about you, too, and you've opened up to me so much more than you were ever comfortable with, and I need to do the same. And I don't even really know what I need to open up about, it's just ... there's stuff in my head."
Tyler took a step back. "So you know how Elio and Oliver made a truce? I mean, we're in a very different situation, because we don't have any petty beef caused by pure sexual angst, but still. I digress." Tyler stretched his arm towards me, whipped cream can in his hand. "So, truce? To ... be unapologetically ourselves, like we promised, and to be open, so we can tell each other the shit that's going on in our heads, even if it confuses us."
Tyler had a way of coming up with this sort of thing, something that made me feel less out of place and more at home. It wasn't helping the l-o-v-e situation, but it was definitely helping with the family one. I wanted to just blurt out whatever was bothering my mind, which was still really fuzzy. But I could try my best to put it into words.
So I reached out and shook the whipped cream can in his hand.
"Truce."
"That felt a little stupid, I'm not gonna lie. But anyway," Tyler stood with his back against the banister, his pie was already finished, and he looked at me.
I returned to my earlier spot, leaning with my arms on the banister, my body open to the city. I wasn't bold enough to look at Tyler right now, so I looked up at the sky. Really, there were no stars. Just a black sky, and a moon that was almost full.
"I texted my mom for the first time in a while the other day," I told him. Saying it out loud was a big admission. I hadn't yet told any of my friends. And it shouldn't been as big of a deal as it felt, getting it off my chest and telling Tyler. "It's probably been a year since we texted at all, and I haven't seen my parents really since before I left for California, to go to UCLA."
"Shit, that's a while. Did something happen?"
"No, nothing happened," I said. "They just have always been more of the silent parents. Good, and I love them and stuff, obviously. I don't know."
"But they don't speak to you? And you don't see them when you're here?" Tyler asked. "You've been back in Georgia since you graduated."
I nodded. "Right. They moved to Maine. They told me sometime after I graduated, and so they don't live here anymore. Maybe it's been making me kind of sad because Id like to visit them, but Maine would be a whole trip. And really, I'd love to see our old house, but I know they don't live there anymore, so it would be a weird thing."
"It wouldn't be weird. You could just, you know... drive by or something," Tyler suggested.
"I was thinking about that ... I just feel weird going there knowing that it'll be alone, and my parents won't be there."
Tyler touched my hand on top of the railing, and I willed myself to look at him.
"I'll go with you. If you want to," he offered, smiling at me. "It'll be fun, right? At the very least, we'll make a little day trip out of it, and I'll get to see where you really grew up, and all that shit. You know I'd love to see all the places Porkchop was being Porkchop."
I couldn't help but smile, too. Tyler was so good, and it was like impossible to say no to him. Besides, I didn't really want to. And the thought of a minor road trip with him was kind of amazing. We could listen to so much One Direction.
There was still anxiety, I wasn't sure why. I think most of it was directed towards my feelings for Tyler, and just how big they were.
"Okay. Let's do it!" I exclaimed.
"I'm free the rest of the week, thank god for Thanksgiving break," Tyler said. "And no basketball until the New Year, meaning I'm definitely indulging in some apple pie, if you're down."
"I'm down!"
"Good," Tyler said, leaning forward to kiss me once. "You taste like pumpkin now, but give me a few minutes and things will get a little more fruity." He winked and backed away, heading back into the house.
I let out a long exhale because the feelings were really strong.
✿✿✿
GUYS GUYS GUYS! I'm so sorry for the late update and wonky schedule lately I APOLOGIZE. It's been confusing for me to so I thought I'd give y'all some info on why this is happening a lot lately.
I love this book and these characters, and don't you even worry, I have it all planned out, and I'm gonna give this book the ending and epilogue(s) it deserves!
But sometimes it really does feel like the love inside of me is dying. Like damn, it's hard to write about such intense and cute love sometimes. Ive done it in the other 3 books I've written, and don't get me wrong, it's super fun, and literally an escape for me. But sometimes, it starts to feel less like an escape, and more like a bunch of heavy weights being strapped to my shoulders. I want to provide the pages of this book, all the words within it, all the characters conjured up in my mind, with the best, most utterly raw and vivid love experiences. And sometimes it gets overbearing and difficult for me to translate my own life experiences and perceptions into those types of earth-shattering love experiences.
I do be trying my best. I'm not drained, I just need another iced coffee, another rewatch of Call Me By Your Name, and probably a hug from someone I love. And chapters should resume on Wed/Fri kind of around 6pm ish MST.
Expect a chapter tomorrow even if I don't have one written yet! I promise imma revive myself! Sorry for the TMI, but deep appreciation if you took the time to read it! ILY ALL ENDLESSLY.