So often, far too often, he took for granted that his mom and Tabby would always be there. Sure, they butted heads. Probably always would. Tabby was a perpetual victim, and his mom a constant enabler. The opposite of Tabby, he was independent enough that he’d never really needed their support. Yet if push came to shove, he knew they’d have his back.
Maybe it was time for him to rethink his attitude...especially with Vanity.
Nose scrunched, she turned back to his mother. “I don’t know if Stack told you, but I’m financially set.”
“I’m sorry,” his mother said, then she blanched. “Oh, I don’t mean I’m sorry that you have means. No, that’s a blessing. I meant, for you to have gone through something like that...”
“Yes.” She sighed. “My parents were very comfortable. I’d have eventually inherited from them, but I assumed it’d be much later in life, not at twenty-one. I’d never thought about it, not really. They had always ensured I had everything I needed.”
And yet, Stack thought, that somehow didn’t ring true.
“With everyone’s estates coming to me, it was overwhelming. So many people, bankers and accountants and financial advisers, all wanted to meet with me.” She swallowed. “And I just wanted to grieve.”
Stack smoothed her hair, brushed her cheek with his thumb. “So you’ll join us for Thanksgiving.” Now that he was mending fences, he’d definitely be there, and he wanted her with him.
He almost choked, but he lied, “It’ll be fun.”
Vanity twisted again to see him, then laughed at his face. “Liar. I bet until this moment, you weren’t even planning on going.”
His mother did him in. “That would be my fault. I’ve showed far too much favoritism to Tabby. Stack was younger, but easier, and Tabby’s always needed more attention. It was so unfair of me.”
Odd that his mom would bring that up now, in front of Vanity. “That had nothing to do with it.”
Expression pained, she said, “But you don’t deny I’ve been unfair.”
Gently, he said, “I’m a grown man, Mom. Not a kid.”
“But you weren’t always, and I’m sorry.” She didn’t wait for him to respond before saying to Vanity, “Until all that hoopla at the hospital, Stack had vowed never to set eyes on Phil again.”
“I didn’t vow,” Stack protested. She made him sound as dramatic as Tabby. But he didn’t want to be distracted with Phil’s stupidity right now. He stroked his fingers through Vanity’s hair and said, “I’m going to Thanksgiving dinner with my mom and sister, and you’ve been invited. I’d like for you to go with me. So, what do you say?”
Encouraging her, his mom added, “It’ll be at my house. I like to cook the meal. It’ll just be Stack, Tabby and Phil, maybe my brother and his wife. Not sure about that yet.” She toyed with the edge of the throw blanket covering her legs. “We lost my husband six years ago, but he did love Thanksgiving.”
“I’m so sorry.” Vanity glanced at Stack, then back to Lynn. “I didn’t realize. I’m sure you miss him very much.”
Lynn smiled. “Yes. Tabby and I might even shed a few tears.”
“They definitely will. It happens every holiday.” But somehow Stack knew Vanity would understand.
“Those we’ve lost,” Lynn said, “are especially missed at every holiday.”
Vanity looked away. “It’s...difficult to plan that far ahead.”
Stack wondered if she preferred to be alone with her memories. Or maybe she was unsure of where their relationship would go. They were still measuring it in days, not weeks.
Lynn sat forward. “No one should spend those special times alone.” Looking insanely hopeful, as if Stack had somehow deprived her up to that point, she tacked on, “Join us. Please.”
Worried, Vanity glanced at Stack. “It’s a family event, and I don’t want to impose.” Lower, like she thought Hawkeye, aka his mother, wouldn’t notice, she added, “That wasn’t our agreement and I’m not sure we...”
He wanted to say Fuck the agreement, but just then a key sounded in the apartment door, drawing everyone’s attention as it swung open.
With twisted glee showing plain in his demeanor, Phil stepped in—and the dumbass had Whitney with him.
His mother gave a quiet gasp.
Too stunned to be mad, Stack stared at Whitney as he slowly stood, aware of Vanity scrambling out of his way.
Maybe it was time for him to rethink his attitude...especially with Vanity.
Nose scrunched, she turned back to his mother. “I don’t know if Stack told you, but I’m financially set.”
“I’m sorry,” his mother said, then she blanched. “Oh, I don’t mean I’m sorry that you have means. No, that’s a blessing. I meant, for you to have gone through something like that...”
“Yes.” She sighed. “My parents were very comfortable. I’d have eventually inherited from them, but I assumed it’d be much later in life, not at twenty-one. I’d never thought about it, not really. They had always ensured I had everything I needed.”
And yet, Stack thought, that somehow didn’t ring true.
“With everyone’s estates coming to me, it was overwhelming. So many people, bankers and accountants and financial advisers, all wanted to meet with me.” She swallowed. “And I just wanted to grieve.”
Stack smoothed her hair, brushed her cheek with his thumb. “So you’ll join us for Thanksgiving.” Now that he was mending fences, he’d definitely be there, and he wanted her with him.
He almost choked, but he lied, “It’ll be fun.”
Vanity twisted again to see him, then laughed at his face. “Liar. I bet until this moment, you weren’t even planning on going.”
His mother did him in. “That would be my fault. I’ve showed far too much favoritism to Tabby. Stack was younger, but easier, and Tabby’s always needed more attention. It was so unfair of me.”
Odd that his mom would bring that up now, in front of Vanity. “That had nothing to do with it.”
Expression pained, she said, “But you don’t deny I’ve been unfair.”
Gently, he said, “I’m a grown man, Mom. Not a kid.”
“But you weren’t always, and I’m sorry.” She didn’t wait for him to respond before saying to Vanity, “Until all that hoopla at the hospital, Stack had vowed never to set eyes on Phil again.”
“I didn’t vow,” Stack protested. She made him sound as dramatic as Tabby. But he didn’t want to be distracted with Phil’s stupidity right now. He stroked his fingers through Vanity’s hair and said, “I’m going to Thanksgiving dinner with my mom and sister, and you’ve been invited. I’d like for you to go with me. So, what do you say?”
Encouraging her, his mom added, “It’ll be at my house. I like to cook the meal. It’ll just be Stack, Tabby and Phil, maybe my brother and his wife. Not sure about that yet.” She toyed with the edge of the throw blanket covering her legs. “We lost my husband six years ago, but he did love Thanksgiving.”
“I’m so sorry.” Vanity glanced at Stack, then back to Lynn. “I didn’t realize. I’m sure you miss him very much.”
Lynn smiled. “Yes. Tabby and I might even shed a few tears.”
“They definitely will. It happens every holiday.” But somehow Stack knew Vanity would understand.
“Those we’ve lost,” Lynn said, “are especially missed at every holiday.”
Vanity looked away. “It’s...difficult to plan that far ahead.”
Stack wondered if she preferred to be alone with her memories. Or maybe she was unsure of where their relationship would go. They were still measuring it in days, not weeks.
Lynn sat forward. “No one should spend those special times alone.” Looking insanely hopeful, as if Stack had somehow deprived her up to that point, she tacked on, “Join us. Please.”
Worried, Vanity glanced at Stack. “It’s a family event, and I don’t want to impose.” Lower, like she thought Hawkeye, aka his mother, wouldn’t notice, she added, “That wasn’t our agreement and I’m not sure we...”
He wanted to say Fuck the agreement, but just then a key sounded in the apartment door, drawing everyone’s attention as it swung open.
With twisted glee showing plain in his demeanor, Phil stepped in—and the dumbass had Whitney with him.
His mother gave a quiet gasp.
Too stunned to be mad, Stack stared at Whitney as he slowly stood, aware of Vanity scrambling out of his way.
