Dylan got an Uber to Leah's house. When she opened her front door, she looked surprised to see him. "I thought you were having dinner with your parents."

"Dinner ended early. Can I come in?"

"Of course," she said, her happiness far too real to be mistaken for simple hospitality. He'd grown tired of Ellie's faked happiness, her pretend hospitable joy, her continual role-playing, and he welcomed Leah's genuineness.

As soon as he got inside Leah's apartment, he saw everything that she had made for her Thanksgiving feast. Buttered pasta, boxed stuffing, canned green beans, and a bag of Hawaiian rolls sat on the counter, ready to be dispersed between two plates and eaten on TV trays. The sight infuriated him, because he knew Leah couldn't afford much better, and he wished he would have invited her over. It was Thanksgiving, for fuck's sake, the time when people were meant to share. It made him hate Ellie, and he wished she could see this: everything this poor mother who worked so hard was able to cook up for her and her son. He wanted to shove Ellie's privilege in her face, but Ellie might never acquire a taste for humble pie.

Instead, he told Leah, "Looks good, Babe. I just ate, but I just wanted to hang out with you two."

She pulled him over to the couch, giving him her TV tray. "Don't be silly. There's enough for three."

He accepted because he really hadn't eaten much. Leah said a prayer before they ate, thanking God for new relationships and squeezing Dylan's hand, and it made the moment feel right.

The TV remained off, and the three of them ate. Trigger complained about the green beans just once, saying he wouldn't eat them but that he still wanted some pumpkin pie, but Dylan didn't care; he was just glad to be there with Leah and Trigger. With his belly full of pasta, he felt much less drunk than he'd felt back at his dad's house.

That night, on Leah's bed, Dylan almost told Leah he loved her. He only stopped himself because he wasn't sure it was true, wasn't sure if this was the way he'd felt about Katie, or about Ellie, but he did feel something very strong. Instead of saying something he might regret later, he pulled her in for another kiss, and let her fall asleep in his arms.

The next morning, he awoke with a slight headache to the sound of his phone ringing, and even though he would have preferred to sleep longer, he saw "Mom" on the screen and suddenly remembered that'd left her and Tim with his dad and Ellie. Promptly, he answered, trying to sound more awake than he was. "Hey Mom."

"Hey sweetie. You doing alright?"

He slunk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him so he wouldn't wake Leah. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Well listen, you know we're leaving pretty soon."

Fuck. Though he'd been happy with his decision to come to Leah's last night, talking to his mom made him feel really bad about ditching her. "Yeah, I know. I'll come back right now so we can say goodbye. I'm really sorry about last night."

"Actually, I thought I could pick you up, take you out for breakfast. Just us."

The idea sounded nice. "Sure. I'll text you the address."

With the phone hung up, he quickly got dressed, kissed Leah on the head, and explained that his mom would be picking him up, and then walked out the front door, lighting up a cigarette to smoke while he waited for his mom to arrive. Her silver Honda drove up just moments later, and he put his cigarette in the ashtray next to Leah's front door and got in.

"Where to?" she asked him.

"I haven't really gone out to breakfast here. Ellie cooked for me every morning until I moved into my new apartment. Now Talia and I mostly just eat cereal."

"Well, I saw a diner on my way to your father's house. Why don't we go there?"

"Sure."

They drove in silence, with Dylan regretting what a dick he'd been last night, realizing he'd been far more drunk than he'd thought. The diner came into view, and he felt slightly ill.

As soon as he and his mom walked into the diner, the smell of coffee and eggs and bacon  began to cure his mild hangover. He and his mom were quickly seated at a table, and a waitress came over to see if they wanted coffee. As they waited for the coffee to arrive, Dylan perused the menu.

"Are you feeling better after seeing your girlfriend?" his mom asked.

"For sure." He still felt like a dick. "I'm sorry I left, though."

His mom ignored the apology. "I thought about asking you to introduce her. I guess she didn't want to come out?"

"She was still sleeping. She has two jobs and works many mornings, so she relishes the opportunity to sleep in."

"Ah, I see."

Dylan looked back down to study the menu, then finally decided he wanted southwestern-style eggs benedict, and he and his mom placed their orders the next time the waitress came out. As they waited for their food, he told his mom more about Leah. The food came out shortly, and as he ate the eggs smothered in avocado and chipotle hollandaise, he told his mom even more about Leah and about her conflict with the school, which had manifested into his own personal conflict with Ellie.

Once their plates were empty, his mom asked, "Anything else going on?" It felt like she knew he had kept something from her.

He didn't see the point in not being forthcoming. "Dad's cheating on Ellie."

For some reason, the admission reminded him of the moment his mom and him had shared seven years ago, when he'd told her, "I think Dad is sleeping with Ellie." In that moment, he'd hoped his mom would tell him he was being absurd, that he had to be wrong, but instead, she'd taken a few seconds to ponder his theory before saying, "That makes sense. Have you noticed the way Ellie's been acting around me these past few months?"

Right then, his mom didn't look surprised or happy or upset. With a neutral face, she asked, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. The signs are there, like they were when he was with you. And he put the woman's name under 'Patrick Garrett' in his phone, but I have her number too; I know she's not the guy who assassinated Billy the Kid."

His mom shook her head and leaned back in the booth. "Unfortunately, I can't say I'm surprised." She smirked here. "Your father. Always thinking with his cock."

Dylan didn't find that funny. "Well, what do you think I should do?"

"You could confront him and let him bribe you to not tell her," she said.

She would never forgive Dylan for doing that to her. "Mom, you know I'm sorry about that."

"I'm only teasing. But honestly, with the hatred you seem to feel towards Ellie right now, it seems like you would want to do that."

"I could never hate her," he said honestly, and he couldn't. She wasn't like something he used to wear that he would look at pictures of now and wonder what the fuck he was thinking. Like one of those songs that he had listened to way too much but would still find himself wanting to listen to on occasion; there were still moments when she would re-captivate him and he would just want to turn her up and tune everything else out until he was sick of her again. But it was those times when he was sick of her that he would think of everything that was wrong with her and he would wonder if she'd be better remixed, or even forgotten.

He wished he could forget her. He wished his nights with Leah had scrubbed his fantasies of Ellie clean, made her into something he no longer ached for. He wished Ellie's need for approval and the front she put on to be accepted by others made her undesirable to him. But his wishes wouldn't come true. "I don't want to hurt her," he told his mom.

"Well if you tell her, it's going to hurt her. If you don't tell her and she finds out later, it's going to hurt her. Any choice you make will hurt her, but you need to know that it isn't you who's hurting her. What do you think she would want?"

"I don't know."

"You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think you still want to be with her."

Dylan shifted in his seat. "Mom—"

"—No, Dylan, I really think you do, and I think it was a mistake for you to move here. You aren't happy. Why aren't you happy?"

"Because of this situation with Leah—"

"—Because you see your father and the girl you love together every day."

"You're wrong, Mom."

"And now that you've found out that your father isn't faithful, and since you think you deserve her so much more than he does, you're resentful. You're drinking heavily, and that worries me, sweetheart."

Waving his hand in the air, he tried to dismiss her theory. "You're way off base. And I normally don't drink that much."

"I'm right. I think you should move back to Arizona, closer to me and Tim, and let Clay and Ellie sort through their own troubles. I can't help you the way Clay can, but I can at least help out with my granddaughter. Tim got a promotion, and I'm thinking about working part time instead of full time."

He looked into his mom's eyes, hating that she could read him so well but still wanting to fool her. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm not moving back to Arizona. I have a shot at a new life and I'm not going to pass it up. Didn't you hear me talking about Leah? I really like her."

Her eyes closed, and then she opened them again, a new expression on her face. She smiled. "I'm sorry. You're right. Leah does sound like a nice girl, and I know you have a chance at a new life with her. I just want to make sure you understand that my offer doesn't have an expiration date. Okay sweetie?"

His head nodded in agreement, forcing a smile. His mom clearly didn't believe him. 

She knew him too well.