Conventionally Yours (True Colors 1)

“It’s supposed to snow heavier this weekend.” I sucked in a deep breath. “And I don’t know whether to hope it grounds planes or not.”

“Ah.” Alden’s eyes were full of understanding. “You’re not worried about the pie at all. This is about your mom coming.”

“Yeah.” I looked out the window as the city gave way to more suburbs and smaller towns as we approached Gracehaven. My mom and sisters were coming to the city to see the seasonal decorations, take in a few holiday Broadway shows, and oh yeah, see me. It would be my first time seeing them in a year and half or so, and worried was a vast understatement.

We’d gone from tentative, occasional text messages to a few emails to strained phone conversations. She hadn’t entirely apologized for going along with my dad for so many months, but it was clear she at least wanted something of a relationship with me, even if he was insisting on still being a jerkwad. I took petty solace in the news that his team had a dismal record this season. If it wasn’t for my sisters, I’d hope the school fired his ass. I might be able to rebuild something with my mom, but it would take a lot more than some grunted greeting to make me forgive him.

“Do you want me to skip—”

“No.” I gripped his hand tighter. “You are not skipping dinner with them. You’re a part of my life now. A big part. I love you. And they’re just going to have to deal with that if they want to see me.”

“Good. And if it’s too awful, we just leave early. Head home.”

“I like the sound of that.” I still wasn’t tired of saying home and it meaning him. We had a little studio walk-up in Brooklyn, near the subway for my commute into the city and his to his classes. He was deep into his first semester of the teaching certificate, pulling all A’s, because of course he was. As of a few weeks ago, he was also working part-time at Odyssey with some play test groups. Imelda and her team had finally worn him down. It wasn’t my group or my project, but it was still nice having him along for my commute and lunch break a couple of days a week. He was hedging his bets, still deciding whether he’d teach at the end of his program or work full-time for Odyssey.

My money was on teaching, as he did seem to really love it, already looking ahead to his student-teaching rotations. And that was okay. He could have his thing and I had mine, and I really did love the project I was on at Odyssey. The work was long and hard, and not the same as playing cards all day at all, with endless decisions and details to sort out, but I loved it. Chances were good that Jasper would be joining me in the spring after graduation, and I got to see Professor Tuttle occasionally too.

“Now arriving at Gracehaven,” the train announced, and we gathered up our stuff. Speaking of our friends, they were all waiting for us after the short walk from the train station to Arthur’s game store. He’d closed early for a Wednesday night, but stayed open for his best customers for a sort of “friendsgiving” potluck, breaking his no-food rules for the one night. Tomorrow, we’d have Thanksgiving with Alden’s moms and his sisters and then the weekend gauntlet with my family, but tonight was all about friends, food, and playing cards.

“You think you’d be sick of the game by now,” Jasper joked as we made our way into the store. His sister had made a full recovery, and it would be a happy holiday at his house too.

“Never,” I assured him. “And you’ll see—there’s almost no time to actually play. I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.”

“The Gamer Grandpa audience is going to love seeing you back.” Payton slapped my shoulder. They were being cagey about whether they wanted to work for Odyssey or not. Rumor was that they too were going to finally graduate in the spring, but of course they refused to confirm.

“They’re right.” Walking slowly with a cane, Professor Tuttle made his way to us. “Now, the audience has missed you both. But you don’t want to play each other, right?”

Alden and I exchanged a glance. Over the months, we’d progressed from not being able to play each other at all, to playing for silly little favors, to actually sitting down and having real matches on the rare occasions when we were both free. In fact, it was almost something of a treat, finishing off a long week of work with a few rounds with him at our tiny table before a few more rounds in the bed that took up most of the floor space in the studio.