Letting You Know (39 page)

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Authors: Nora Flite

BOOK: Letting You Know
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Reaching
out, I gave her a careful one-armed hug. My tone was soft, it
reflected the burst of appreciation in my heart. “You don't
need to do any of that, Mom. Not for me. I'm fine, and things are
going really well for me. I'm happy out in California.”

She
sighed, I felt her shifting, looking over my shoulder. Leaning away,
I spotted her target. Deacon was skating in the distance, his eyes
fixed on us, his grin bright.


You're
really happy with him, aren't you?”

I
didn't hesitate. “I am. Yeah.”

Chuckling,
she moved to give me a real embrace. It threw us off balance, and
together, we squeaked in our struggle to not fall once more.

Strong
arms grabbed us, steadying our dancing muscles with a laugh. Deacon
had arrived just in time, his aid keeping us on our feet.


Thanks,”
I said, grinning.


No
problem.” Taking my hand, he looked at my mother. She looked...
relieved, if I had to call it something. When he reached out for her
hand, that vanished into a mask of confusion. “Come on,”
he explained, standing between us. “I'll keep you guys up.”

Peeking
around him, I gave my mother a crooked grin. “What do you
think? Give him a shot?”


Sure,”
she mused, her voice steadier than her legs. “We'll give him a
shot.”

She
means more than ice skating.

Giggling,
we let Deacon guide us down the slippery rink, his arms balancing us
the entire time.

****

Inside
the many stores of the mall, I discovered I had no idea what to get
for my parents.

Staring
at the options, tugging at the ends of my hair, it was torture.


Is
it always this hard to shop for parents?” I whispered to
Deacon.

Standing
over me, he leaned down, poking one of the keychains on the display
before us. “You know, I have the same trouble. That's why I
always get my dad socks.”

My
laugh was strained. “Right.”
What
I really want to get them is too expensive.
Sighing, I glanced up, checking to see if my parents were nearby.

I
spotted them studying a display of puzzle boxes, so I ducked around,
slipping from the store. “Where are you going?” Deacon
asked me, frowning hard.


Shh,
stay here with them. I don't want them to know what I'm doing.”

He
looked uneasy, but his nod was all I needed to see.

Hurrying,
my legs carried me across the mall, eyes fixed on the signs
everywhere.
I
can't afford to get them plane tickets to California. If anything,
they're the ones who could actually get...
The idea struck me, I gave it a careful once over.

Would
it be a weird thing to do?

Trying
to decipher what my parents would think was impossible.
It's
a risk, but... if I'm wrong, I'll take the blame.

It
took me no time to find a store that sold post cards and novelties.
Inside, I browsed the racks, thumbing through everything in a rush.

Will
they even have...?

I
almost gave myself a paper-cut when I finally found what I wanted.
Beaming, I grabbed up the cards, then scrambled to the cashier.

As
I left the store, my wrapped gifts in a bag, my eyes found Deacon and
my parents only just exiting the other place.

Their
faces lit up at the sight of me. Trying to be casual, I kept the bag
at my hip, skipping over to them.


Where'd
you go?” Dad asked, eyeing the bag.


Nowhere,”
I shrugged. It was obvious what I'd done, but they played along, not
pushing the question.

Clapping
her hands together, my mom looked at us one by one. “It's
getting late, how about instead of a movie, we just grab some food
and enjoy the rest of Christmas day at home?”

Home.
She calls it home.

That
made my belly flutter, it was a good sensation. “I'd like
that.”

Together,
as one big group, we strolled through the mall towards the parking
lot. Looking around, feeling in the middle of my own little world, a
world that had never seemed to be real before... never seemed like it
could
be...

I
felt at peace.

****

Despite
us all saying it was fine if we grabbed some fast food, my mother
insisted she got to cook.

Sitting
around the living room, sipping hot tea and laughing, the world felt
perfect.

Deacon
sat beside my father on the sofa, I leaned on a kitchen chair that
I'd brought over onto the rug, and Mom buzzed away getting plates
ready.


You
know,” I said, fiddling with my sleeve nervously. “I uh,
I got you guys something. For Christmas, I mean. I want to give it to
you, before I forget.”
I
wouldn't ever forget.

Dad
sighed, rubbing his forehead sheepishly. “Oh, honey, you didn't
need to get us anything. Coming here was enough.”


No,”
I argued, shaking my head rapidly. “I wanted to do this. Here,
Mom, come sit down.”

Laughing,
pretending I was asking too much of her, she threw up her arms. “Okay
okay, I'm coming. These potatoes are going to get cold, though.”


Who
cares about potatoes?” I asked, tossing an amused look at my
boyfriend.

Blinking,
he shrugged helplessly. “Me? I care, actually. They smell
amazing. But you guys go ahead. I'm patient.”

Rolling
my eyes, I wiped my damp palms on my jeans and moved closer to my
parents. They both sat beside Deacon on the couch, trapped by me with
my chair in front of them.

Clearing
my throat, I tugged both envelopes out, fingers shaking. Offering one
to each of them, I leaned back like I might get bitten. “Okay,
here you go. I hope it isn't—I mean, I want you guys to...”


Easy,”
Dad chuckled, tearing open the paper. “I'm sure we'll love it.”

Mom
worked more methodically, easing the sticky top open, keeping the
envelope in one piece. “Yes, I'm betting it's perfectly—oh.”
Pulling out the card inside, she gaped down at it.

Dad
shot her a glance, but she didn't seem able to move her gaze away
from what I'd given each of them. “Leah, what is this?”
He asked in a hushed tone.

Blushing,
I tied my hands together in my lap. “Uh, well, it's a post
card.”

Mom
lifted hers up, turning it to face me. I saw the big Hollywood sign
on it, the words I'd scribbled while the cashier watched patiently
looking like black smudges. “I don't understand. What does this
mean?”


Read
it,” I encouraged her.


I
have,” she whispered. “It says, 'see you soon,' why...?”


I'm
asking you guys to come visit me,” I said quickly,
self-conscious about having made the wrong decision. “Is it a
dumb gift? Sorry, maybe it's a little presumptuous, I just thought—”

My
father reached across, hugging me tightly where I sat. Another set of
arms, my mother, joined his. “It's wonderful,” he
mumbled, sounding like his throat was tightening. “Really
wonderful.”

In
my ears, I just heard Mom sniffling.

Looking
up through their embrace, I found Deacon watching me. His eyes were
like melting caramel, clearly pleased by the vision before him.

Blushing
under all the attention, I wiggled them off of me. Brushing my hair
back, my gaze floated around, not able to settle on either of their
emotional expressions. “I'm glad you guys like the sound of
it.”


We'll
visit as soon as we can,” my mom assured me, wiping at the
corners of her eyes. “I—I should go check the food.”
Standing, she straightened her shirt, bustling off to hide in the
kitchen.

Dad smiled at me, giving me a subtle, but poignant, nod. He loves it.
He loves what I just offered them. I made them feel welcomed.

It
was an amazing feeling.

****

After
dinner, it was clear we needed to hurry and see Colby if we were
going to make it before it got too late.


Be
careful driving tonight,” Mom said, standing beside us and the
pile of luggage. She couldn't stop fidgeting with my scarf, tying it
one way, then another.

Reaching
out, I grabbed her hands gently. “We will Mom, don't worry. I'm
sure we won't even see any snow before we get back to Kentucky.”


Make
sure to call us when you get there, too,” she added, not
seeming to hear me. Still staring at the floor, she grabbed me in a
hard hug, then backed away.

Twisting,
I went to hug Dad, but saw he was busy shaking Deacon's hand.
“Listen,” he said quietly, seriously, “you take
care of my daughter. And don't,” he added gruffly, brows drawn
low, “mess this up. You hear me?”

Deacon
managed to not look phased. Gripping down hard, he gave my dad's hand
another quick shake. “Of course not, sir.”


Josh,”
he grunted, smiling mildly. “I told you, call me Josh. Now, you
guys go on.” Turning to me, he yanked me in for a hug that
stole the air from my lungs. “Your mother is right,” he
whispered in my air, “you guys need to be careful out there.”


We
will be,” I answered, wanting the moment to stretch on forever.

It
wasn't possible, though.

Breaking
away, I lifted my bag, gripping the front door. “Alright. You
guys, take care, okay? Come and visit when you can, I love you both.”

They
waved after us as we stomped out into the early evening, snow
crunching under our boots while we loaded the SUV up once more.

Sitting
there, looking out the window, I could see my parents staring at us
through the window. Again, I waved, flashing the biggest smile I
could, just in the hopes they would see it from where they were.

The
tires rumbled over the wet roads, taking us away from that apartment,
away from my parents after such a short reunion.

I
managed to make it down the street before breaking into tears.

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