Sixty thousand was enough for a down payment on a house. It was hard to imagine having that amount of money when I hardly had enough to eat growing up. Andrew’s sister shaped the dough into a loaf and set it into a pan. Brushing melted butter on top, she threw the pan into the scorching hot oven.

“I told Kescher I would call him at four. I’ll be back.” Whipping off her apron, she exited the kitchen.

“Kescher is her boyfriend,” Andrew’s mom explained. “We haven’t met him yet but Constance gushes about him. Young love, huh?”

I politely murmured my agreement. We shaped our loaves and set them in the oven to bake. Andrew’s mom fiddled with a timer, turning the dial to sixty minutes.

“We have some time to get to know each other.” Andrew’s mom gestured to the dining room table. “Sit, I’ll fix us a cup of apple cider.”

Seeing no choice in the matter, my butt plopped into a sea grass woven chair. The scratchy material rubbed against my legs. I felt as if I was about to get interrogated. Andrew’s mom handed me a mug and tipped a small amount of rum into the drink. Since getting drunk and spilling my guts wasn’t on my agenda, I managed my intake.

“So Haven, tell me a little about yourself. You said you work at a coffee shop?”

On second thought, I swallowed a mouthful of apple cider. “Yes, I worked at The Roasted Bean but the owner to close shop until further notice.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. What are doing in the mean time?”

Having wild monkey sex with your son wasn’t the appropriate answer even if it was the truth. Nonetheless whenever anybody asked that question, they were really searching for your motivation, aka what gets you up in the morning.

“I’m exploring my options,” I said.

Andrew’s mom peered at me as if she was waiting for additional information.

“I work at a nightclub part time, catering to drunk people. It’s not very glamorous.”

“Most jobs aren’t. When I was a nurse, all kind of substances would end up on me. Blood, feces, you name it.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, but at the end of the day, you’re saving lives. That’s what counts.”

I blew on my drink. “I’m not saving lives. I’m getting people drunk.”

Candy’s musical laugh brought a smile to my face. I’m glad she wasn’t ashamed her son was dating a glorified waitress.

“Honey, you are bringing happiness and a good time. That counts as well,” she pointed out.

Candy’s candor made me want to spill my guts to her. I didn’t have a maternal figure to shove wisdom into my life anymore. Correction: I never did. My mom’s sage advice was to always bag it before you fuck it and that was the extent of her wisdom.

“Honestly I haven’t found my passion yet.” My eyes locked onto her hers, but there wasn’t any judgment, only kindness. I went on. “It seems like everybody is preaching about finding what you love and then doing that as a career but what if you never got that opportunity? Growing up, my mom didn’t shuttle me to ballet lessons or music lessons. I had to be the one to ensure I had a ride home once school let out. It was me against the world for twenty-three years and only now since Andrew has come into my life, my breathing has come easier. I finally broke the surface and can look around.” Candy handed me a napkin. Touching my cheeks, they were wet with tears. “Sorry, I’m not usually this emotional, especially with people I just met.”

“Don’t apologize. It sounds like you needed to get it off your chest.”

I fixed my makeup and dabbed away the smudged mascara underneath my lower lash line. “Yeah, guess so. Thanks for listening. Andrew is lucky to have you as a mom.”

“I’m lucky to have him as a son. He wasn’t easy as a teenager being a boy with raging hormones but I wasn’t worried about him. I always knew he would figure it out and I was right. You are two similar in that way.”

“How so?”

“You don’t seem like the kind of girl who sits back and lets life fly by. You take the bull by the horns. Whatever you are meant to do will present itself. Be patient.”

“Patience isn’t my strong suit,” I said.

“‘Wise to resolve, and patient to perform’ –Homer,” she quoted.

The spiked apple cider made me feel drowsy. Stifling a yawn, I tucked my feet underneath me and fought the urge to close my eyes.

Andrew laughed at something as he walked into the kitchen. A red plastic cup was in his hand. “Mom, stop hogging my girlfriend,” he joked.

“I like this one, Andrew, don’t mess it up,” she said sternly, flashing me a grin, which I returned.

Glancing around the open kitchen, a sense of belonging stole my breath. This was what I’d been looking for. A connection to a family unlike my own. Andrew was right. After today, it was going to be a thousand times harder to leave.

The party went until midnight and it was half past one when my head hit the pillow. Andrew’s family knew how to have a good time. There was a pumpkin carving competition, pillowcase races, and an overflowing amount of spiked apple cider. Also, a buffet with incredibly delicious food I had second helpings of. Andrew’s sister forwent the cookie bake-off, which was a huge relief. We instead decorated gingerbread men with the little kids who smeared frosting everywhere. It looked like a Candy Land murder scene in the kitchen.

Tossing onto my side, I threw the duvet cover off my body and spread eagled on the mattress. The heat was on alarmingly high but there were too many buttons on the remote. What happened to simple gadgets anymore? Sweat beaded along my cleavage. Clicking on my phone, I saw it was the same time as three seconds ago. Sumiko was most likely awake but she wasn’t allowed phone privileges the first week in rehab. Hopefully, she wasn’t causing trouble. We weren’t on great terms after her attempt at escaping the hospital the night before she was to be admitted. A broken arm later, Sumiko realized escaping the hospital was harder than it appeared. I swear that girl had nine lives. Monica was another option, if she wasn’t having sex with her new boyfriend 24/7. With nobody to call, I groaned and threw my arm over my eyes.

“Haven? Are you awake?”

Light from the hallway spilled across the hardwood floors. A boxer clad Andrew tiptoed into the bedroom and shut the door.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“I miss my cuddle buddy.”

Although I melted into a pile of goo, Andrew’s parents’ room was a few feet away. If they caught us in bed together, it would be humiliating. Guess we would have to be quiet. He hopped onto my mattresses, crawled toward me, and flopped onto his back. His cold feet pressed against my calves.

A yelp escaped my lips. “Holy shit, you’re freezing.”

“And it’s a goddamn sauna in here. Jesus, is this how you like to sleep?”

“I couldn’t figure out how to work the remote.”

He smirked. “That’s adorable.”

I cursed the pitch darkness for obscuring my view of the hard cut lines of his abdomen and the bulge in his underwear. It was comparable to having a Christmas present that wouldn’t unwrap. The fireplace would provide enough light, plus an air of romanticism.

My finger stroked his chest. “Why don’t you fix the heat and turn on the fireplace? I’ll go change into something slinkier.”

“There is no other answer than hell yes.”

Laughing quietly, I grabbed the lace nightgown from my suitcase and went to the bathroom. My pajamas were upgraded to sexual vixen. I finger tossed my blonde hair into that just rolled out of bed look. The mirror reflected back my pale complexion, which hadn’t seen the sun in months. Since a spray tan wasn’t possible, I added a swipe of red lipstick to my lips. Better. I pressed my palm against my stomach that was fluttering with butterflies. Sex with Andrew would never in a million years get old. Like Monica said, he knew how to bring the thunder.