The Other One {Harry Styles AU}

53. Now

The next morning, we lounge in bed for a couple of hours, snuggling against the cold and making out. What better way to fight off the frosty air? When we finally get up, I tell Harry, "there's a dress code where we're going today. You'll need to wear a jacket."

"Can I still wear jeans?"

I shrug. "Sure." I pull on gray tights and a short black sweater dress. "But you should put on a button down shirt." I wiggle my feet into my high-heeled black boots and stand up. Damn. My legs look really long.

Harry is staring down at my legs too, one arm in the sleeve of his crisp white shirt. "You look amazing," he exhales, finally pulling his shirt the rest of the way on. He shrugs on his gray suit coat and sits down to slide on his boots. I tuck my hair into a knot as he stands again. We look like our outfits were planned to match, black and gray.

"You look pretty damn good yourself," I kiss his cheek.

Again, my mother is waiting for us. But not at a table. She and Mike are standing in the lobby. "They said you don't have a reservation," she complains when we walk over.

I shake my head and step up to the host inside the restaurant. "Hi." He widens his eyes at me. "There are four of us," I hold up four fingers.

"Yes, Ms. Turner. Just a moment."

I turn to my mom, rolling my eyes, "they probably didn't believe we were eating together." She laughs. I have made my mother laugh. The guy comes back and leads us to a table outside, under a pergola. He hands us the menu. It is a three-course meal, with several choices at each stage. My mom and Mike exchange words behind her menu. I'm pretty sure I hear him say sixty-seven, which is the price per person. I wave my hand in front of them. "Please don't worry about the cost," I insist when they look up. "It's my pleasure to have you here with me."

Harry reaches for my hand, holding it under the table. I know he is probably just as freaked about the money as they are.

The waiter comes and takes our order. I choose the mini waffles with lemon curd and raspberry jam, a so-cal omelette, and chocolate cake. Harry opts for lunch, selecting a Cesar salad, a burger, and cobbler. My mom and Mike both order alcoholic drinks, and Harry coughs uncomfortably. I squeeze his hand, trying to convey that I am all right. I miss the rest of their order, but the food looks pretty when it comes.

While we're waiting, I hand my mom the chipmunk book. "Oh my gosh, Maddie. Where did you find this?" She flips through the pages.

"It was in Matt's stuff." She starts to hand it back to me. "No, keep it. I wrote it for you anyway. I want you to have it." She holds it to her chest, her bony hands folded over one another. I have never felt so...treasured by her. Why has it taken us so long to get here? Why couldn't she have shown me all those years? Maybe she did, in her own way, but my expectations veiled it. Like, maybe I only looked for a certain type of affection or love, and when I didn't see that type, I thought there wasn't any at all.

"Thank you," she whispers. Mike runs his hand over her back, smiling. "I always thought you would grow up to be a writer." Huh. Then why the fuck did you make me become an actor? Calm down, Maddie. Remember how you felt a minute ago when she was so happy. I smile at her. A real smile. I think.

The first dish comes, and oh my god. You don't understand. It's sweet and tart and fucking delicious. I actually moan at the table. Harry laughs, kissing my cheek. I feed him a bite, and he closes his eyes, savoring the perfection. I literally scrape the crumbs off the plate with my finger to eat them.

As we're served our main dishes, the LA talk show host comes over to say hello. "Maddie, how great to see you!"

"Hi, Penny. You too! You remember my boyfriend, Harry?" She nods and shakes his hand, beaming at him.