Season's Greetings : Christmas Box Set

“You did?” Mother asks. Her eyes widen.

Dad chuckles. “Nicely done, son. Did you have fun?”

“No. I was too nervous. I think I could in the future, though. Delta’s friends were nice. We had snacks and played a Star Trek tabletop game.” I shrug.

“Sounds like this young lady is made for you.”

Mom sniffs.

“Kath.” Dad’s voice holds a warning I don’t understand.

Are they fighting again? It’s not unusual, but they tend to keep the barb flying to a minimum when we’re in public.

“What does Delta do, Sammy?” Mom asks.

“She’s a social worker.”

“The more I learn about her, the more I like her already. It takes an exceptional person to be in public service like that. I’m sure she’s seen a lot of upsetting things.”

“It is true. I’ve seen her after a really bad day. I asked her why she continued to do it when it upset her so much, and she told me she’d rather know they had at least one person in their corner who cared. That seeing the placements that went well, and stopping the abusive situations she came across made it all worthwhile.”

Dad whistles. “Sounds like a winner.”

“Please, we haven’t even met her yet, Harrison.” Mom chews on her scrambled egg whites. I can sense she wants to say more. “Sam, I’m glad you found someone you get along with, but I want you to be careful. You’re still strangers, and it takes time to know a person’s true intentions.”

“We met one weekend and married less than six months later. Time isn’t everything, Kath.”

It’s a strange shift when Dad is backing me up while Mom nitpicks. My stomach lurches, and I push my omelet around on the pristine white plate.

“I know. But, Sam, you know you don’t always read people well, and none of us want a replay of what happened with Allison.”

Dad waves his fork at Mom. “Allison never cared about anyone else but herself. Delta has her beat already.”

“I’m trying to keep him from getting hu

rt, Harrison,” Mom scoffs.

“Him or your campaign?”

Mom scowls. “That’s not fair.”

“No, but it’s true. How ’bout you put Sam first?”

“You have some nerve.” She stabs at the eggs.

My chest tightens. I hate it when they fight. I always have. I used to hide in my closet and rock in the dark when it got terrible at home. It was one of the reasons they discovered my condition. It turned violent, and I bashed my head against the wall until it bled, trying to flee the overstimulation caused by the chaos.

“You’ve never tried to understand him. You left it all to me to figure out. Now you’re suddenly Mr. Dad? Please.”

“Might want to ease up on those mimosas, princess. Your nasty side is oozing out.”

She clamps her mouth shut.

Dad turns his attention to me and places his hand on my wrist, gripping it firmly. I meet his gaze.

“Listen to me, son. If you found someone you can be yourself around, don’t let anyone dissuade you. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you like this about anyone. I’m excited for you. I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Thanks, Dad.”