Before You Leave

27. Thanksgiving

It's not that I didn't want to meet Gideon's mother, but I really didn't want to meet Gideon's mother.

Family was important to Gideon. It was important to a lot of people. But every time I've met a friend's parents, the friend eventually started to detach themselves from me because their parents convinced them I was a bad influence. I didn't blame them because I knew I was.

Gideon was the most important person in my life right now. And if his mother didn't like me, he would have to pick between us because that's what bitchy mothers did. But I know I would do the right thing and walk away if it came down to that. I would never have Gideon pick between us.

I was getting ahead of myself. I buried my face in my hands, rubbing my eyes a few times before letting go.

I looked myself over in the mirror. I wore a light pink dress that hugged my skin. It had spaghetti straps, but you couldn't really see them over the see-through pinkish-beige dress built onto the pink one. The see-through fabric went to my wrists and ended at my thighs.

A knock on my door had me jumping. I sighed as Gideon opened the door as I bent down to toe my white Filas.

"Wow," he said, voice somewhat hoarse as he breathed the word.

I lifted my head over my shoulder, raising my eyebrows. "You don't look too bad yourself, kiss ass."

He had a white button up shirt under a black suit jacket and black slacks with black dress shoes.

"Isn't time to retire that nickname?" He groaned, taking my hand as I pulled myself up and off the floor.

"Only if you retire 'baby'," I say, smirking as I interlace our fingers.

"You don't like it?"

"It's so cheesy, Gid!" I giggle, straightening out his jacket with my free hand.

"I think you like it," he says, kissing the corner of my mouth gently, a whisper of a kiss.

I made a 'mhmmm' sound, which resulted in a poking in my low abdomen. I started to burst out laughing as Gideon went red.

"I think you like it a little too much," I say in between laughs. I couldn't stop laughing. And I mean real laughing. The ugly, cackling one that one should hear.

"Shut up," he muttered, bending down to kiss me gently.

I couldn't help but laugh more as the poking thing grew. "You better stop if your mother will see a little too much of you."

He snorted as he backed away from me, holding his hands up. "Can we just go already?"

———————

When we pulled up to Gideon's house, my stomach was in knots and my hands were sweating.

The house was a pale blue and the roof was black. It was two stories and had many windows, including a bay one.

So Gideon didn't want his father's money, but his mother did.

He shut off the car and I let out a big sigh as my hands bunched in fists, taking hand fills of the skirt of my dress.

"Relax," Gideon murmurs. "You don't need to worry."

"I'm not worried," I say, but my voice was higher than usual. I climbed out of the car and Gideon went after me.

After the sound of the car door, a small girl, no older than nine, ran out of the house. Her black braid bounced behind her and her tan-caramel skin stood out in the sunlight. She wore a green shirt and worn out overalls.