Page 75 of Forest Proximity
If any other man ignored my mom’s instructions, I would add it to my list. But when Adam rolls the sleeves up his bronzed forearms and he’s up to his elbows in the sink, all I can do is observe with appreciation.
My mom gloats silently to my dad, then to me, while Adam loads the dishes into the dishwasher. The satisfied shimmy of her shoulders while she serves fat, thickly frosted whoopie pies onto plates says she thinks she’s winning this round.
When Adam closes the dishwasher, he joins me on the other side of the counter. “Did I get the right flavors?” he asks with a nod to the pies.
“There’s not a wrong flavor,” my mom says with bright eyes for Adam. She gathers a stack of paper napkins. “Everyone grab a plate. Let’s take these in the living room, and we can turn on a show.”
My mother is determined to get what she wants, and she wants to absorb Adam into the Sullivan family. She might’ve been outvoted at the town meeting, but she’s making this happen one way or another. She’s like a boa constrictor, slowly wrapping our family around him until it’s too late for Adam.
And it’s working.
He doesn’t know what she’s doing. He doesn’t put up a fight. He takes a place on the loveseat, balancing his dessert plate on his knee. My parents take their usual spots on the couch. My only seating option in our small living room is the place next to Adam, and my mom’s conniving, boa constrictor grin says everything is going according to her plan.
Chapter 28
Adam
“It wasn’t that bad,” I reassure Stevie.
She’s apologizing for her mom while I gather memory cards from my cameras. I don’t mind having company on the trail this morning, and I like having Stevie to myself. She’s multitasking—her focus is trained on the foggy woods—but she’s also holding my hand.
She squeezes my fingers. “You only think that because you don’t know my mom. She’s subtle with her matchmaking.”
“You sure about that?” I ask with a chuckle. The woman is as subtle as a neon sign that reads “You are currently on a date, and you’re going to like it.”
After we finished our whoopie pies last night, Inger dragged her husband out of the living room for some made-up reason, leaving me alone with her daughter for half an episode ofSeinfeld. It would’ve been painfully uncomfortable, except I was with Stevie. I got to sneak a kiss, and my covert girlfriend pretended to shove me away. I’m pleasantly surprised by hownotuncomfortable the evening was.
Stevie runs her free hand down her face. “My mom is relentless when she gets something in her head.”
“Is she?” I pretend to be surprised, swinging our arms between us playfully. “Sounds familiar.”
Stevie tries to bump me off the trail with her hip.
With a laugh, I pull her back against my side while we hike. “Last night was nice.” It was the closest I’ve felt to being at home since I moved to Maine. I love the solitude of my cabin, but I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed the feeling of being around my family. Stevie’s parents’ home felt like that—even down to theSeinfeldrerun. “And I really like your dad.”
“Isn’t he great?” Stevie glows when she talks about him. “You two are cut from the same cloth. My dad was having the time of his life last night.” Devious light fills her eyes, and she adds, “Unfortunately for my mom.”
My heart swells. Stevie reveres her dad, and her words make me feel taller. Being cut from the same cloth as the man she loves has to be a good thing, right? Is this what it would feel like to be loved by her?
I swallow.
“Stevie?” My voice is hoarse.
“Huh?” She’s distracted by the view, as usual. Her red hair swings against her back in a ponytail while she hikes.
I change course, leading her into the trees. I don’t know why. We’re alone out here. Not many people come into the preserve at sunrise in the middle of the week, only people who work here and people who are on the lookout for sasquatch.
“Where are we going?” she asks with laughter in her voice. I think she knows what I’m doing.
I pull her against the trunk of a tall white pine tree, looking down into her eyes. “I like your family, Stevie.”
Her pink lips curl. “Yeah?”
I nod.
“They like you, too.” She rests her hand on my chest.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “And I like you.” I stop myself before I say more.
