When I appear on my parents' doorsteps on Thanksgiving morning, my mother wraps me into a hug with a squeal. "Stacy, you're home."

"Yes, Mom." My voice is thick and I struggle to loosen her iron grip. "Happy Thanksgiving."

Her attention shifts to my companion. "And who is this young man?"

"I'm Brody Griffin." He extends his hand. "It's nice to meet you, ma'am."

My mom squints at him. "Have we met before?"

Brody and I exchange a glance. I had warned him that my mom never forgets a face and will likely remember our bantering on the elevator. Of course, he didn't believe me. How could anyone outside the military possibly be blessed with this kind of mental-recognition software?

"I don't think so." He beams at my mom. "I have an average face. I'm sure you're mistaking me with someone else."

"Hmm." She doesn't look convinced but then remembers her manners. "Oh, come on in. Dinner won't be ready for another few hours, but you can keep my husband company in the living room while Stacy gives me a hand in the kitchen."

With the gender roles clearly defined, we are ushered into our respective rooms. She cuts into me as soon as she closes every available door to avoid accidental eavesdropping.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Her face has this childish look as if she's expecting me to enlighten her about the birds and the bees.

I smile. "No, Mom, Brody is just a friend. He and I work together."

Her eyes go wide. "You're working now?"

"Yes, Mom." I grab the peeler out of the drawer and begin to attack the sweet potatoes to give my hands something to do.

"Who are you working for?"

Devon insisted I keep my family in the dark. "It's a minimum-wage job in a restaurant at the mall. It's not a big deal."

"Then why did you have to leave town?"

"Please, Mom, don't ask so many questions." The forced smile I give her is painful. "I just want to have a nice dinner, all right?"

"Sure."

Her lip trembles; I'm sure she knows I'm lying to her, just like she suspects that she has seen Brody before. She and my dad are probably worried out of their minds.

My smile turns soft. "I'll be back home soon, Mom, I promise."

Her face is screwed with doubt. She bites back her questions, although her eyes burst with curiosity. A little while later, Brody joins us in the kitchen to escape my father's grilling. He turns out to be a pretty good cook who handles a knife like a pro. Probably learned it as part of his one-on-one combat training.

Juliet and her fiancé Nathan show up around noon, triggering more questions, but when I quiz her about the wedding preparations, the attention is quickly diverted from me.

"The date is set for June fourth," she says. "Will you be able to come?"

I squeeze her hand. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Brody shoots me a warning look, reminding me I shouldn't make these types of promises. There is no guarantee I'll be back from Malaguay by then.

"What about you, Brody?" Juliet asks. "Will you come to my wedding as my sister's date?"

When my face twists, he grimaces. "I'm not sure, ma'am. I work for the military and will probably be deployed."

"I thought you worked at a restaurant with Stacy," my mother pipes in.

I lower my eyes to hide my burning cheeks. I hate it when she catches me in an obvious lie.

"Well." Brody coughs in his fist. "I'm on a leave of absence at the moment, but I've been redrafted for next year."

Silence follows his words as my mother continues to mash the potatoes with pursed lips, obviously not buying his story. I can't even blame her; it all sounds very farfetched.

The rest of the afternoon, including dinner, is spent with forced light chatter. Everyone avoids any topics that could raise more questions and the worried glances my parents exchange suggest that this visit mightn't have been such a good idea after all. When Lauren shows up with Katie during dessert, I abandon the rest of my pumpkin pie. The rich food has given me a stomachache; if I don't slow down, I might get sick.

"We have to go, Mom. Our plane leaves in a few hours."

"Oh, aren't you going to stay overnight? Brody could always sleep in the guest room."

All eyes turn to him.

"Sorry. I have to open up the restaurant in the morning. Black Friday shopping starts at six."

"Oh, right." Mom rises at the same time as my dad. "And where are you two off to tonight?"

I say "Florida" at the same time he mutters "Texas." More awkward silence follows.

"We really need to be going." Brody jumps to his feet. "Thank you so much for your hospitality. This was the best Thanksgiving dinner I've had in years." Luckily, he omits that it was the only Thanksgiving dinner he's had in years since he is usually out of the country.

"Well, take care," my mom mumbles and pulls me into a hug by the door. Hot tears burn into my skin as she silently weeps into my sweater.

"It's going to be fine, Mom. Don't worry." I stroke her back. "I promise I'll be careful."

She tears herself away from me, her hands frantically wiping her face.

My dad's hug is brief, though moisture also gleams in his eyes. "Well, goodbye, Stacy. Thanks for coming. And so you know, your mom and I are really proud of you, even if you're only working at a restaurant." He shakes Brody's hand. "Please take good care of our daughter, soldier."

Brody nods. "I will, sir." A warm smile lands on me. "I promise I won't let anything happen to her."

Walking back to the rental car, I nudge him in the ribs. "Nice show. You almost got him crying."

"Yeah, parents usually dig me. They never understand when girls break up with me because I'm not around much."

Although the words don't carry any bitterness, a brief shadow crosses his face. Being deployed all the time and having to sneak around to hide those classified missions must have a strain on any relationship, and most women couldn't consider him serious boyfriend material.

I smile at him. "Why did you tell my parents we're going to Texas?"

His brows furrow. "Because that's where we're going. Didn't Devon tell you?"

"No." Devon and I need to work on our communication. "What's in Texas?"

"Santino's kid."

"You mean Luca."

"Yeah, I believe that's his name."

I slide into the passenger seat of the rental and buckle my seatbelt. Not even a minute later, the engine hums to life. He backs out of the parking space. As we roll down the street, I crane my neck to catch one more glimpse of my childhood home. It's almost surreal to leave everything behind again.

"What's the deal with Naiara? Do you know why she just turned her son over to the government?"

For a breath, he takes his gaze off the road to glance at me. "I have no clue. Stuff like that is above my pay grade."

"But aren't you curious at all?"

"Trust me, there are things you don't want to know."

"So it doesn't sound right to you either?"

He tosses me another glance. "My mom raised six kids and fought the social worker tooth and nail when she tried to take us after my mom lost her job and started dealing drugs. I can imagine that most mothers feel that way, so if one just turns over her kid, there must've been some serious shit going on in the background. However, that doesn't concern us. Focus on the mission. The rest you can worry about after it's done."

I suppose he has a point, but this whole Naiara thing doesn't sit well with me. Santino is not a good father and just turning a child over to him is reckless. Luca will be screwed up in no time. With a sigh, I drop my head back against the seat. Devon's plan sucks and I'll have to watch my back or I'll be ending up on the losing end.

~~~~

© Sal Mason 2016

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