Until December (Until Her/Him #8)(13)

“You staying for dinner?” I ask, needing to change the subject.

“It depends. What are you making?”

“The boys want lasagna, so I picked up the stuff yesterday.”

“Are you making your cheesy garlic bread?”

“What do you think?” I raise one brow.

She grins. “Right. Then I’m definitely staying.”

I grin back before looking toward the couch, where both Max and Mitchell are sprawled out. “Boys, I’m gonna start dinner soon and Grandma is staying.” I get a “Cool” and a “Right on” before I continue. “I hope you both got your homework done, because it’s your turn to do dishes and it’s Yahtzee night.” I listen to both of them groan and turn off the game along with the TV before heading for their rooms without a word. When I look back at my mom, she’s got an odd look on her face. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, still watching me closely.

“What?” I repeat, curious now.

“You,” she whispers.

“What about me?”

“You’re an amazing dad. Those boys are lucky.”

My throat gets tight, but I swallow through it. “I learned from the best.”

“I might have had a hand in you becoming the type of parent you are, but the hardworking, loyal, loving, and protective man you’ve grown into is all you. You’re stronger and more determined than anyone I know. Hell, most people given the hand you were dealt as a kid then as an adult would have given up, but not you. You keep going, keep fighting to have better and do better, for you and your boys.”

The tightness in my throat grows and my chest constricts, which means I wheeze out, holding her stare. “You’re the best mom a kid could ask for, and regardless of what you think, I’m the man I am today because you showed me how to be everything that is good.”

“Oh, God, I’m gonna cry.” She starts to sniffle and I laugh. “It’s not funny.” She swipes her cheeks, glaring at me.

I move off the stool I’m sitting on and go around the edge of the counter. “Come here, Mom.” I hold open my arms and she gives me one last annoyed look before wrapping her arms around me. “I love you.”

“To the moon and beyond, baby boy,” she whispers before tightening her hold. We stay like that until we hear one of the boys’ doors open and shut then she looks up at me, giving me a shaky smile and letting me go. “I’m just gonna fix my mascara.”

I lift my chin and she smiles then disappears right as Mitchell comes around the corner.

“Dad, I can’t find my backpack.”

“Did you check your room?”

“Yeah it’s not there.”

“You sure? I know you think you know where everything is in that mess, but I guarantee you don’t.”

He smiles crookedly. “I looked through everything.”

“Did you leave it in the truck?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs.

“You know where the keys are. Go on out and check.”

Without a word, he takes off. I hear the rattling of my keys then the sound of the door opening and closing. Not even two minutes later, he comes back in, shouting, “Found it.”

“Good,” I reply, and then I listen to him go into his room and close the door.

Mom comes back when I’m already at the stove cooking the ground beef for the sauce, and I look at her when she gets close.

“I’m just going to say one more thing.”

I let out a frustrated breath. “Mom—”

“No, you need to hear this.” I watch her head jerk from side to side. “If you think for one minute you’re not good enough for that girl, you’re wrong. You deserve everything, honey, everything good in life. And if this girl doesn’t see the amazing man you are, she’s not worth your time.” She looks away then continues. “Now, I’m gonna go check on the boys to make sure they don’t need help.”

She knows they don’t need help; if they did, they’d ask for it. She just wants to leave me to think about what she said. And it works, because once again December is at the forefront of my thoughts as I make dinner for my mom and boys, and still long after I get to bed.

Which means I don’t fall asleep until I lose myself with my hand wrapped around my cock, thinking of December.

_______________

“I don’t know why we have to go to some fancy dinner. It’s not like Aunt Selma or Sejla even care if we’re there,” Max grumbles from the back seat as I pull into one of the empty parking spaces at the restaurant.

“You think they don’t care, but they do. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have asked us to come,” Mitchell snaps from the passenger seat at his brother in the back, sounding annoyed. It’s something that’s becoming more frequent whenever he deals with his little brother.

“I know they care about us, but they never care about these events. They don’t even wanna go most of the time, so I don’t see why we have to.”

He’s not wrong. My twin sisters, who are both in banking, couldn’t care less about these events, but each and every time they’re given something in their honor, they invite us. They are considered rock stars in the banking world, and the company they work for appreciates the amount of clients they’re able to secure, and also the big names attached to them and only them, from country singers to corporate clients. People trust them, because they are trustworthy and honest. They never let their clients make financial decisions without knowing exactly what they will be getting into, even if that means they have to hold off on a loan until they’re more financially secure.