Page 87 of Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love 3)
“Everything,” I promised. It suddenly occurred to me that my invitation on her voicemail hadn’t made that clear. I’d just invited her out like I used to. “In fact, I want to amend my earlier offer. Instead of coffee or a drink, why don’t you come over for dinner Friday night?”
“To your house?”
“Yes. I want to introduce you to Scotty.”
She sighed. “Levi, you know I’d love that, but I’m not doing it if this is just what you think I want to hear.”
“It’s not,” I said. “In fact, it’s not for you at all, it’s for me. You know how selfish I am.” I heard her laugh, and it made me smile.
“OK, then…OK. I’ll come over Friday.”
“Great. I’ve been talking about you a little.”
“You have?”
I smiled even bigger at the shock in her voice. “Yeah. He looked a little worried when I said you were a doctor—he doesn’t love checkups—so don’t wear the white coat.”
She laughed. “I’ll be sure to leave that behind. Can I bring anything?”
“Nope. Just your company.”
“What time?”
“Is six OK?”
“Yes, I’ll come right from work.”
“Perfect. Can’t wait to see you.”
“Same. I miss you. And I can’t wait to meet Scotty.”
We hung up, and I felt better than I had in a month. I could do this. I looked over at Scotty, who was carefully scooping his frozen peas onto his yellow spoon, a few spilling off the plate, and felt a rush of love for him, too. Neither of us was perfect, but we tried.
Sometimes that’s all you can do.
• • •
I called my mother that night too. As I’d suspected, it didn’t go over well that I wouldn’t be at their house on Christmas Eve until I hinted at something bigger than just the holiday.
“I understand that you have to make things up to her, but why does it have to be on Christmas Eve? That’s for family.”
“That’s the point, Mom.”
“But those people aren’t your family.”
“But I’m hoping they will be.”
She gasped. “What? What does that mean?”
“It means that I’m serious about her, and I have to show her that I want her to be in my life, and I want to be in hers.”
“Well, what about Scotty? Why don’t you bring him here to spend the night with us while you go to her party, and then you can come up here afterward to sleep and you both wake up here on Christmas morning. Just like it used to be!” she said brightly, as if she’d found the perfect solution.
“No, Mom. I don’t want what used to be. I want to make new traditions. I want to be with Scotty and Jillian on Christmas Eve, and wake up with Scotty in our house.”
She sighed, a big, dramatic Mom Sigh. “Fine,” she said. “I understand. You’ll still come for brunch Christmas Day though, right?”
“We’ll be there. Would it be OK to bring Jillian?”
