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It was nearing Thanksgiving and your parents insisted on coming to your place for the holiday. You told them that your roommate, Shane, was working that night, you weren’t even doing anything, and anything else you could think of to stop them from coming up from Florida.
“Well, we haven’t met Shane and you’ve been with him for how long?”
“Mom, I’m not with him. He’s just my roommate.” you sigh. Somehow your mother convinced herself that you are dating your roommate.
“We haven’t been to your place since you moved in with your roommate .” she retorts. You can hear the air quotes around “roommate.”
“Mom, like I said, we’re not doing anything-”
“You loved Thanksgiving as a kid,” she starts. You groan internally. She starts on a rant about being a grown up and it’s your job now to host the holiday meals. You knew she wouldn’t give this up, so you finally relent.
“Let me talk to Shane first, okay?”
“Of course,” You’re surprised by her positive response. “A good woman always talks to her man first.”
“I’m not-”
“Honey, I’m going to have to let you go, your father left the door open and Pepper is loose again. Got to go, love you.”
The call ends before you can say anything else.
“Was that your mom?” Shane asks, poking his head out of the kitchen.
“Yes. She’s dead set on coming for Thanksgiving.”
“What’s so bad about that?”
“She’s convinced herself that we’re secretly together.”
“And?”
“It’s all she’s going to talk about. I’ve tried everything to get her not to come,” you groan and flop back on the couch. “I can already hear all the sideways comments.”
“Call your mom back and tell her we’d love to have them over.”
“Shane-”
“Come on. It means a lot to her.” he says, leaning over the back of the couch.
“Why are you so goddamn sweet? Fine.” you grumble. “You realize that they’re coming from Florida. They’re going to be here for a few days.”
“That’s fine. We have plenty of room.” he shrugs. Your stomach tightens as you hit Call on your mom’s contact. This was a bad idea.
Your mom had been thrilled when you agreed to have them over for Thanksgiving. They said they’d be over the day before. That was two days from now and it set you into cleaning overdrive. Cleaning and not to mention you had to go shopping because you hadn’t planned on having anyone over for the holiday.
You cleaned the house from top to bottom and made sure it was presentable for your parents. You got the text that your parents would arrive shortly.
“Hey, breathe, it’s okay.” Shane says, seeing how nervous you were.
“You haven’t met my mom, Shane.”
“She’s your mom. I’m sure it’ll be okay,” he smiles. “Everything is perfect.”
Shane’s reassuring smile helped a little bit, but your anxiety grew as you heard your dad’s truck pull up into the driveway.
“Oh my god, they’re here.” you take a deep breath and put on a big smile, opening the door. Your dad gets out, looking visibly annoyed at having been in the car with your mom for six hours.
“Hey daddy! Hey mom!” you skip down the porch to help with the bags.
“Hey pumpkin, how are you?” your dad says, pulling you into a hug. He kisses your head.
“Great, how are you guys doing?”
“Good, you know, considering.” he says quietly. You murmur in agreement. Your mom had always been crazy during the holidays. You got along better with your dad. Your mom snaps at him to get the bags.
“Yes, dear.”
You offer to help.
“So, where’s Shane?” mom asks. Not even a hello.
“He’s probably getting ready for work, mom.”
You haul the bags up the stairs with your parents in tow. Shane opens the door and you nearly run into him.
“Hey, sorry, was getting ready.” he says, taking one of the bags from your hands. Indeed, he was wearing his work uniform in place of the pajamas he’d been wearing earlier. His hair was now combed and you could smell a hint of his cologne. “How y’all doin’?” he grins brightly at your parents.
“Oh wow, he’s a cop.” your mom gasps. She nudges you. “Where are we staying?”
“Follow me.” Shane says. He leads your parents down the hall to the guest room.
“So, how did you two meet?” your dad asks.
“He came through my line at the store quite a few times and we became friends.”
“Uh huh.” your mom murmurs, looking around at the guest room.
“Yeah, her roommate at her last place wanted her to leave because, what was it? She wanted her boyfriend to move in?”
“Yeah, mhm, and there wasn’t enough room for three people.”
“So she’s like freaking out, y’know, and I offered my place. I have a lot of room, it was no big deal.” Shane smiles. Your mom raises an eyebrow toward him.
“So she pays you rent?” she asks pointedly.
“Nah, I mean, not like officially.” Shane shrugs. He was visibly uncomfortable under your mom’s gaze and you wished that he would have listened to your warning.
“We split the bills, mom.”
Shane checks his watch.
“I gotta run. Picking Rick up today. I will see you later though. Nice meeting you.” he nods and leaves, happy to be free of the awkward situation.
“I’m still not convinced you’re not sleeping with him.” your mom purses her lips and crosses her arms.
“You want to see my room? Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”
You walk back into the hall and your parents follow you.
“Shane’s room is this one, the bathroom’s right there and this is my room.” you open the door to the last room on the left.
“He was just nice enough to let a pretty girl like you move in with him?”
“Yes, mom.”
“Does he have a girlfriend then? Since you want to insist that you’re not.”
“Margaret, come on now, leave her alone.” your dad says.
“Thanks dad.” you murmur. You leave your room and gesture for your dad to follow.
“Margaret, come on. Leave her stuff alone.”
You show them the rest of the house and turn on the TV for your dad. He sits on the couch while your mom flits about the house, looking at everything. You figured she was trying to find evidence you were dating Shane. You hand your dad a beer.
“Thanks, pumpkin. You know, if you’re dating this young man, I don’t think it’d be such a bad thing.” he shrugs.
“I know, but trust me. He’s just a friend and roommate.” you smile.
You’re pulled away by your mother, who starts berating you for not having more treats made.
“When you were a kid, I had been baking for two days by this time.” she chides you.
“Mom, it’s just the four of us. There’s pie in the fridge for tomorrow.”
“It better not be that store bought stuff.”
You wished Shane were home to provide a buffer. You hated wanting to sacrifice him to your mom’s comments and critiques, but she had only been in your house for half an hour and you wanted to scream.
At dinner, your mom asked if Shane was going to be joining.
“He’s going to be at work for another couple hours.” you reply.
“Does he work long shifts often?” your dad asks.
“Uh yeah, it depends on the week. Sometimes he does four tens, sometimes he works shorter shifts but he’ll work ten days straight. He’s also the head of gun training, so he gets overtime for that some days.”
“Gun training, huh.” your dad says.
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.” your mom adds.
“Mom, he’s a really good instructor.”
You weren’t going to add that he trained you. You finished dinner and cleaned up, getting ready to make more treats upon your mom’s request.
Thankfully, at ten o’ clock they decided to turn in. You said goodnight and curled up on the couch waiting for the cookies to be done.
Shane gets home around midnight.
“What are you still doing up?” he asks.
“My mom wasn’t impressed with the two pies I made and insisted I make cookies too.” you grumble.
“Damn, I’m sorry.”
“How was work?” you ask, following him to the kitchen. He grabs one of the cookies already on the cooling rack.
“It was fine. Long. Glad to be off for the next couple days.” he replies. He eats the cookie as he looks through the fridge.
“I’ll be glad when my parents leave,” you say, pulling the last batch of cookies out of the oven. “I love them, but you should have heard my mom. I told them you’re an instructor and she ‘doesn’t think that’s safe.’” you say, mimicking your mom’s voice. Shane laughs.
“What’d you tell her?”
“I told her you were the best.” you grin.
“You tell her you’re certified?”
“Hell no, you think I’d be alive right now?” you laugh.
“It’s just one day.” he says, heating up the meal you had set aside for him.
“Yeah, could not be over fast enough.”
You tell him goodnight. You were going to try to sleep for a little bit before you had to get up to put the turkey in. Shane thanks you for setting food aside for him. You give him a tired smile, then head to your room to climb into bed.
You have to admit that you appreciated your mom for getting up and making the Thanksgiving meal for so many years. You hadn’t realized that you would get barely any sleep, but the house was filled with the smell of cooking turkey and you had started on more treats.
Your parents were already up by seven and Shane got up around eleven. He stumbles out of his room shirtless before remembering your parents were there, and turns around to throw a shirt on. Not before your mom saw him, however.
“Does he walk around like that often?” she asks.
“I dunno? Not really.” you shrug. Shane comes back out, running a hand over the back of his head.
“Mornin’.” he says, sleepily.
“Barely.” your mom says, checking her thin watch.
“Happy Thanksgiving.” you tell him.
“Yeah, Happy Thanksgiving.” he replies. You give him a cup of coffee and a plate with some turkey sandwiches. “Hell yes, you’re the best.” he leans in like he’s going to kiss you, then moves his head, nodding toward the table. “Can I have some of those cookies too?” he asks.
You nod and give him a few. ‘Nice save, Shane.’
You prayed that your mom hadn’t been watching that exchange. Shane sits down on the couch, on the opposite end from your dad.
“Long night?” your dad asks.
“It wasn’t too bad. Pretty boring so yeah, I’d say so.” Shane replies, eating his sandwiches. He polishes off his plate and sets it on the table in front of him.
“Are you still hungry, Shane?” you ask, peeking into the living room from the kitchen. Your mom had excused herself to go to the bathroom.
“Yes,” he replies. “She knows me so well.”
Your dad is eyeing him as you come to give him a couple sandwiches.
“Thank you, baby. It’s really good.” Shane says, not thinking. He freezes and looks at your dad.
You watch as Shane tries to backtrack. Your dad just leans in.
“Just between us.” he nods.
Shane looks legitimately frightened, but nods.
“Pumpkin, can you get me a beer, please?”
“Yeah,” your voice squeaked. “Of course, daddy.”
“How long?” You hear your dad ask as you open the fridge.
“Almost a year.” Shane replies.
Your mom comes back and the men fall silent as you bring your dad his beer. You look at Shane and he shrugs almost imperceptibly.
Thanksgiving means eating dinner at 3 o’ clock. You had the table set and called everyone over. The one nice thing your mom did was bring a silver gravy boat that had been in the family for years. She said that she was passing it down to you. Everything looked perfect, and you could tell that your mom was trying to find something to criticize. The meal went over fine. Your dad and Shane talked sports while you and your mom ate quietly.
After dinner, everyone moved to the living room to relax.
“Shane, how old are you?” your mom asks.
“Just turned thirty-three.” he replies.
“Marge, leave it be.” your dad groans. Your mom is staring pointedly at you.
“Thirty-three, huh?”
“Mom, for God’s sake.” you get up, annoyed at this point, to start cleaning up. It felt like she was determined to ruin the Thanksgiving that she so badly wanted, because she just had to be right. You can hear your mom telling Shane how ‘funny’ it is that he was in second grade when you were born.
“Mom, can you stop!? You and dad are ten years apart.” you snap, then go back to doing dishes. You’re almost in tears. You clean the gravy boat and set it behind you to put away later.
“You know, I think we should leave tonight.” your dad insists.
“We were going to leave tomorrow!” your mom replies. Shane excuses himself and comes into the kitchen while your parents argue.
“You okay?” he asks, putting his hand on the small of your back.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about them.” you say.
“It don’t bother me, baby.” he murmurs. He looks around the corner, seeing your parents still occupied and wraps his arms around you, kissing you gently.
“I love you.” you whisper.
“I love you too. Missed having you in my bed.” he whispers back. You grin and break apart, hearing your parents get up.
“This has been great, but I think we are going to head out tonight. It’d be best for everyone.” your dad says.
“Sure, yeah. Thanks for coming, you guys.” you reply. They go to pack up their stuff and take it out to the truck. You pack up some leftovers for them to take home. You say your goodbyes, but your mom says she forgot something and went back inside while the three of you stood outside in front of the truck.
“Oh, maybe it is already in my bags. Bye, dear. Thanks for having us.” your mom says sweetly. She gives you a hug and kiss. Then gives Shane a hug.
You watch them leave, and head back inside once the truck disappears around the corner.
“Let’s get some pie and eat in bed, yeah?” he asks, his hands feeling you up. You smile and nod. Shane kisses you hard.
“Think your dad likes me?”
“I think so. He’s pretty chill.”
“Seems like it.” Shane remarks, following you into the kitchen. You both get slices of pie then retreat to Shane’s room to snuggle and eat.
A few days later, you ask Shane if he’d seen the gravy boat your mom had brought. He says he hadn’t seen it. It was an antique. Your mom would kill you if you lost it. Maybe your mom took it back. After looking around everywhere, you finally decide to give her a call.
“Hey mom, good, I’m good. Shane’s good too.” you say. “Listen, ma, uh, did you take that gravy boat back with you? I thought you meant to give it to me.”
“Oh, I did give it to you, honey,” your mom laughs.
“Did you put it away for me?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Where?”
“Well, honey, if you’d been sleeping in your own bed, like you claimed, you would have found it.”