“You too. Thanks for having me over.”
“Come in and have a seat,” Mr. Erikson suggests, waving me into the living room. “We’ve got about twenty minutes left on the casserole. Hopefully, Conrad and Hannah will be here by then.”
I take a seat on the edge of the love seat. Cannon asks his father if there’s anything he can do to help him in the kitchen. After his father says no, he sits down next to me.
“How have you been feeling?” he asks his mother.
“I still have good days and bad days, but more good than bad,” she tells him with a smile. I can’t decide if she’s telling him the truth or just what she thinks he wants to hear. “But enough about me. Last night was just a blast, Madison! Did you know that it was one of our neighbors who won the Harley?”
“That’s great,” I tell her. “I can’t thank you all enough for coming out to show your support.” I know now that it was even more considerate of them since his mom doesn’t get around all that great.
“It’s the least we can do to help you beat that jackass,” she says just before the front door opens suddenly, making me jump in my seat. Cannon rests a hand on my thigh as if to tell me it’s okay before his twin comes in holding Hannah’s hand.
“There you two are! We’re so glad you could make it this weekend!” Mr. Erikson says.
“It’s nice to finally get out of the beach house for a little while,” Conrad says.
“I hate you have to hide out like that,” Mrs. Erikson remarks with a frown.
“I love it there,” Hannah tells her. “It’s like we’re on vacation.”
Conrad wraps his arm around her, and Cannon speaks up and says, “I’m glad the two of you took your honeymoon someplace else.”
“We’re not married. Yet,” Conrad says with a grin and then holds up Hannah’s hand. “But she did say yes!”
“Oh my goodness!” Mrs. Erikson says as she pushes herself to her feet to go hug them both. “That’s so wonderful!”
“Congratulations!” Mr. Erikson tells them when he pulls his son in for a masculine hug and then gives Hannah a gentle one.
When Cannon gets up to go to them, I do too, feeling like an outsider, but wanting to congratulate them too.
Everyone asks about how it happened – Conrad proposed on the beach this morning when they went for a walk. And then when they’re going to get married – both want to have a small ceremony soon, before the baby comes.
Then the timer goes off in the kitchen and interrupts.
“Dinner is ready!” Mr. Erikson says as he goes back to the kitchen. “Cannon, could you get out the glasses for us while Conrad picks out a nice wine for us to celebrate this happy occasion?”
“Sure thing, Dad,” they both say at the same time in that freaky twin way before they go in the kitchen to help.
I’m left sitting in the living room with Hannah and Mrs. Erikson, who says, “It’s so nice that the twins have both fallen in love at the same time. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me!”
“Oh, Cannon and I aren’t…” I start to say we’re not a couple, but after last night, I’m not so sure. I don’t think we are. It could’ve been a one-time or two-time thing, and it won’t happen again. I can’t tell their mother all of that, though. Thankfully, Hannah jumps in to help me.
“I don’t think Madison is ready to think about the future, not until she wins the election.”
“Yes, exactly,” I reply, grateful to her for answering when I couldn’t find the words to deny that I’ve started to have feelings for Cannon or admit them to his mother and myself.
“Are you ready to go into the dining room, Mrs. Erikson?” Hannah asks when she goes over to her chair.
“Absolutely,” she agrees, and then she lets Hannah help her to her feet while I get to mine and stand there frozen. I have a feeling this dinner is going to be awkward.
I’m tense all through the meal, to the point that Cannon places his hand on my thigh and squeezes to get my attention.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yes, of course.”
“You suddenly look like a deer in headlights, but it’s a train coming for you and not a car.”
“Sorry,” I whisper as I set my fork down, unable to eat another bite. “Could you show me the way to the bathroom?” I ask.
“Sure,” Cannon agrees, pushing his chair back. “We’ll be right back,” he tells everyone at the table.
“Hurry back,” his mom says. “We’ve got a blackberry cobbler for dessert.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he tells her before he takes my hand as if he thinks I need the assistance to get up and follow him. Maybe I do. I’m too stunned to function on my own. I want to talk to Cannon and hear him tell me that last night didn’t mean anything because he was drunk and that it won’t happen again. I know that’s what he’ll say, and then we can pretend like nothing happened.
Instead of the downstairs bathroom, Cannon leads me up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms, shutting the door behind me.
“Thanks for helping me escape for a moment,” I tell Cannon. “Your mom is…intense.”
I finally look away from him and take in more of the room – lots of blues and grays, and bikes like it’s a boy’s room. I know without asking that it was Cannon’s room when he lived at home.
“Sorry,” he says. “I thought she would leave you alone tonight because she would be too busy fussing over Hannah and the baby.”
“Nope. She thinks you and I are…”
“What?” he asks.
“More than we are.”
“Sorry,” he says again. “I told her there was nothing going on, and she said, and I quote, ‘I
