Find a Penny, Pick Her Up

Chapter 26

For the next hour, I worked with Jess to clean the kitchen. I ripped a piece of tin foil from its package, simultaneously fitting it over the leftover apple pie and peeking into the dining room. My mom scrubbed the table, particularly Annie and her mother's area.

"I'm so happy I ditched my family's Thanksgiving for yours," Jess said. She ripped another piece of tin foil, wrapping a piece of cheese from the appetizer board. "So much more exciting than Uncle Fred playing the same piano song he'd learned when he was twelve."

I rolled my eyes, taking the cheese from her hand and unwrapped the tin foil from it. Dad hated when cheese was hidden behind tin foil; he liked to see what exactly his options were. Jess moved to finishing up the bottles of champagne, not bothering to get a glass and drinking straight from the bottle.

"You should go over to his house," she said.

"He would think I'm crazy."

"Aren't you, though?" I hid a smile, tossing some pieces of cheese in the fridge. "Get in my car. I'm driving you over there." She tossed the empty bottle in the trash,

"You just probably drank your weight in champaign," I pointed out, waving a finger at her. "You're not driving."

"Champaign doesn't count," she shooed it away, blinking a little too slowly.

"Where are we going?" Grandma appeared, leaning on the counter and laying her head in her hands.

"Nowhere," I said, while at the same time Jess answered, "Hampton's house."

Grandma straightened, brightening. "I'll drive you right now!" Jess clapped her hands together.

"I have a turkey coma," I lied, feigning a yawn. "I think I'm gonna go lay down for a little."

"Boo," Jess frowned, jumping off the counter. "I should get home anyway. Mom'll want me to spend some turkey day with her and the fam." She reached out to me for a squeeze; she smelled of champagne.

"Dad," I called into the living room. "Can you drive Jess home?" He glanced up, and I held up the empty champagne bottle for emphasis. Without question, Dad jumped to his feet and swiped his keys from the counter.

When he returned, and by the time the day came to a close and all the leftovers had been officially stored in the fridge, my parents sat me down to debrief all of what they'd learned hours earlier.

"How long have you known this?" Dad asked. Mom sat next to me, quiet.

"Not long."

"Why didn't you tell us?" he asked. "I can't understand how you didn't tell anyone."

"What's it going to change?" I shrugged.

"Sweetie," Mom said, sighing. "So much." I looked at my lap; she was right. For the next hour, we walked through every step of that night. And at the end, something had shifted in the room; it was almost like I was their daughter again. Someone they could recognize. I wasn't sure if it made me feel hurt, or better.

Later, I laid in bed and stared at my ceiling. Regardless of the day's drama, all I could think about was Hampton's hand on my thigh for the majority of the meal. I almost ached in wanting to be back in that moment for just a moment. But then I remembered the wounded look on his face when his dad entered the room; I wanted to hug him, comfort him, and let him know that I was there for him if he needed me. I sighed a frustrated sigh, rolling onto my side and watching my reflection in the mirror.

Was I just creating a fantasy in my head? It was just a stupid crush; Hampton wasn't obliged to share his family drama with me.

I clicked the light off near my bed, now staring into darkness. My eyes took a few moments to adjust, and for a while, I laid there with so many thoughts swarming in my mind: Was Hampton okay? Where, exactly, did his Dad come from? How was Jayden doing? His Mom? And then, the more selfish thoughts, creeping in and refusing to leave: Did he know how much I liked him? How much I wanted him to text me and make plans to hangout? Would he do that soon?