34. Turkey
34
Turkey
Sal handed his mother the console. “You can walk around to show everyone, but don’t mess with anything.”
She gave him a baffled look. “I don’t know how to use this thing. And who is she?”
“A friend. Use the analog stick, Ma.”
“The what?”
“I’ll show you.” Ash stepped in. “Nice job, Zero.”
“Thanks.” I tried to smile as I backed from the room.
Maybe she was only so harsh about me as Sal’s non-girlfriend because she wanted what was best for him. Much like his family.
People crowded in to check out our custom world as Sal worked his way to me.
“So, you made me something.” He grinned, his dimples deep.
“It was a thank you. For Thanksgiving. For the turkey. For your friendship. For everything.” I flushed and looked down, pretending to clean my glasses. “Sorry it’s not fully ready.”
“Are you kidding? It’s amazing.” He waved his hands on either side of me, then drew them against his chest. “Can I hug you? ”
“Yes.” I laughed, wiping my wet lashes, no doubt smearing my expired makeup. But it didn’t matter here. I launched into Sal’s embrace and hung on tightly, soaking up his warmth, musk, and energy.
Despite running on almost no sleep, holding him recharged me.
“Aw, look at the babes in love,” Uncle Paulie said, clapping us on the shoulders.
“Ow.” Sal laughed, pulling away from him. “You hit me with the cane.”
“It was an accident.” He shook his finger at me. “I had a good feeling about you.”
“Thanks. But we’re just friends,” I said, pushing up my glasses.
“Are you saying you’re not in love with him?” He raised his wiry eyebrows at how I’d pressed myself against him.
“No, I am. But according to Sal, we’re not suited for a…” I glanced at Sal, whose flushed face had gone slack in shock. “Sorry, that’s nobody else’s business. And we’ve only known each other for a few weeks.”
Sal grabbed my elbow and led me to the corner of the dining room by the cabinet, which was about as clear as anywhere we could comfortably reach. “You’re in love with me?”
“Yes. Wasn’t that obvious?” I furrowed my brow. Most of the time I was oblivious to social cues, not the other way around. “Not that it matters. Like you said, I’m kind of a disaster with trust issues, and statistically speaking will likely pass some issues on to any potential children, so…I’m okay being friends.”
“Friends,” he said dubiously. “With benefits again?”
“No, I’m not fine being friends, and I don’t expect we can enter into any nonexclusive, deeply emotional arrangement without me losing it, but I’m fine in the sense that being friends is better than the alternative. At least that’s what I told my therapist.”
He stroked my arm, his voice soft. “You’re talking to someone? ”
I nodded, fighting against the squeeze in my throat. “I want to be better. And I want you to be happy, Sal. Even if it’s not with me.”
My smile faltered under his intense gaze. I glanced away. “Okay, seeing you with someone else might break me. But I can rebuild a broken heart. Eventually.” Straightening my spine, I touched his arm. "I’m grateful you introduced me to the possibility that there was someone I could trust, someone who could love me.”
Unfortunately, all this sentimentality sprung a leak in me. Once again, I swiped at my eyes and sighed. “Sorry. I’m not used to makeup, so I’ve probably made another mess of things. At least it’s just me this time. Therapy really must be working.” I chuckled, then sniffled. This was probably embarrassing, but my heart skipped a beat because he was talking to me.
He tutted and led me closer to him. “You know what’s nice about wearing patterned shirts? They hide stains. Including mascara.” He gently wiped my cheeks with his hem.
Giggling, I grasped his wrists. “This isn’t making it any easier to get over my romantic feelings.”
“Well, maybe I don’t want you to.”
I craned my head back to take in more of him. Nice people like him didn’t lead others on for attention. “Why not?”
“Because I love you too,” he whispered.
My ears buzzed at the confession. No. He didn’t. “As a friend?” I clarified.
“As more than that. Look.” He opened the china cabinet and presented me with a familiar plush: Tom the Turkey.
I gasped, lurching toward them both, then stopping myself short. “I thought you sold it.”
He sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “Almost did. But I thought I should put it away for someone special. It was going to be a surprise to ask you to make it official, but I lost the nerve when you came in hot the other night. I thought maybe I was jumping in too fast…again. I wasn’t sure you really liked me.”
“You held my turkey hostage until I made a confession?” I snatched the plush away from him and stroked the feathers. “Why didn’t you just ask me about my feelings? I…”
The fight sizzled out of me at his patient smile and raised eyebrows. Damn those dimples. He could get away with murder. Especially if I had this calming plush nearby.
I furrowed my brow and fluffed the turkey, not quite able to meet his pretty gaze. “I would like to be your girlfriend. I know I still have a lot of work to do, but it’d be nice if…we could go on dates and be exclusive, if that works for you.”
“It does, thanks.” He grinned and kissed my cheek, sending a spark straight to my heart. “I need to work on taking things slowly,” he said. “But maybe, one day, you can come here under normal circumstances. Just try to stay away from Uncle Paulie.” He winked.
“Hey, I heard my name. What is this kid telling you?” Uncle Paulie bellowed.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sal said, gesturing with exaggerated Italian mannerisms.
I laughed and laid my hand on his chest. His heart beat hard under my fingertips, radiating warmth.
Even though the room was crowded with curious people, with him smiling at me, it was safe, not scary. We could do this. Together. I leaned up for a quick, seal-the-deal kind of kiss.
To taking things slow. To love. To building a future together.
The rest of the visit went by in a blur of overly friendly introductions and well-meaning invasiveness, with the turkey plush as my buffer between hugs. Sal ran interference where he could .
“She doesn’t do cheek-kisses yet,” he warned them. “Save it for Christmas.”
Then, most of them blew kisses at me, instead. I winced, but pretended to catch them for the sake of running with the joke.
“Here, let’s get you a plate,” Sal said.
I loaded up for dinner, then sat on a plastic-covered chair. The food was delicious and saved me from answering any questions. One relative was not deterred from conversation.
“You’re a tech?” Uncle Paulie asked, wobbling on his cane.
“Yes, I built robots.”
“Then, what happened? No money in that?”
Wow, he was blunt. I could appreciate that. I dabbed my mouth with a napkin, lipstick and sauce coming away as a red mark. “There was money in it when I could focus. I was sexually harassed by half the department, and the school wouldn’t do anything about it. So, I sued them and started my own freelance business,” I said.
Sal squeezed my shoulder, consoling.
“That’s the way to do it.” Uncle Paulie raised his hand, and I gave it a satisfying slap. “I like this girl. She gets revenge.”
Sal tickled my sides. “I like her too. She’s smart. And funny. And–”
“Stop.” I chuckled and trapped his hand behind my back, my heart racing. “I mean, thank you, but I can’t take this much playing, food, and positivity in one sitting, especially in public. We’ll have to work up to it.”
Sal snorted. “Is it okay to say you’re cool, then?”
Cool like Ash? Cool like a badass? Level-headed? A nice friend? Or someone he’d want to be with?
“I guess so.” I flushed and held up a forkful of sweet potatoes as a peace offering. He leaned forward, eating off my fork. I froze, stunned, as he licked orange smudge off his delectable lips. I’d meant for him to take the whole utensil, but I guessed if he had my heart, it was okay to be touchy like this. Especially if it made him laugh.
Uncle Paulie tapped his cane to grab our attention. “Well, if you ever want me to track down those people who bothered you–”
“Can we hold off on jumping people until we’ve gone on a few dates?” Sal chided. “But seriously, if you want me to–”
“It’s fine.” I stabbed my dinner. “I’ll be making ten times as much as them while partnered with a man who respects women. Hopefully, that’ll kill them.”
Uncle Paulie and Sal cackled with laughter.
I fought a smirk and leaned into the toymaker's touch. Maybe I was kind of funny. And fun. With the right people, I could be cool.
Later, when things died down and a huffy Janice was assured we could send her all her custom content, Sal walked me to my car.
“It’ll help me work off the meal,” he joked.
“Do you think Tom’s offended we ate some of his people?” I asked, nestling the bird under my arm.
“Nah. He loves stuffing.” He grinned, cheesy and proud.
I snorted a laugh. If I was similarly inclined, I could say I loved the stuffing out of him, but that was too much. Not clever enough to risk the cheese factor.
We linked our fingers as if playing games together had just been a warmup for these last few weeks.
He nudged me with his arm. “I’m really thankful you came out today.”
I smiled at the salt crunching underfoot and squeezed the plush closer. “So am I.”
He peered at me. “It wasn’t overwhelming?”
“Only for a little bit.” I shrugged, scuffing my shoes. “At least your family was nice. That helps me tip-toe outside my comfort zone. Expand it, actually. And I appreciate they were all so welcoming, even if we did kind of spring our relationship on them.”
Nodding, he slowed his pace the closer we got to my car. “You know, a lot of people got on me about falling too hard, too fast. They encouraged me to try casual dating.” He sighed, his breath a puff of steam, then shook his head. “It wasn’t me. And as stupid as it sounds, I’m glad we tried this friends with benefits thing. It forced me to look at how you treated me as a friend, first, not just as a boyfriend. There wasn’t any bullshit about who paid for what or who texted when. You wanted to see me, with or without sex. Sure, you were closed off about some things, but you were also real with me.”
“About Janice?” I flushed and flexed my fingers around his.
“Nah, I mean any compliments, any feelings, any red flags you perceived. You wear your heart on your sleeve. You, um, definitely let people know how you’re feeling," he said.
“So, how did you not know I was into you and not Ash?”
“Did you know you liked me?” he teased.
“Not exactly.” I frowned, fiddling with my keys. Big emotions like that seemed to cloud my analytical abilities. Which could be alarming. But it didn’t have to be. “I’m going to trust my instincts.”
“What are they saying now?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows.
“Love you. Completely.”
He hummed and rested against the side of my car. “What does that mean, exactly?”
I gripped his lapel and smirked, the turkey squeezed between our stomachs. “For starters, it means taking you home with me.”