Wilson Mooney Eighteen at Last by Gretchen de la O

felt our arms create a
cocoon and our bodies melt together. I loved feeling him breathe,
tasting his words, living at home in his thoughts, and feeling the
vibration of his heart as it soothed me.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    The spring on the garage door into the
kitchen stretched and hummed a note when Max and I came back into
the house. Nancy must’ve heard it because, before the door closed
behind us, she was in the kitchen.
    “ Oh, there you are. I went
into the other room and noticed that your sandwiches were there but
you guys were gone. Everything okay?” she asked as her eyes danced
from Max to me.
    “ Yeah, Mom, everything’s
fine,” Max nodded. Nancy’s eyes grew as she cocked her head. That
must have been her nonverbal cue to him not to lie. He widened his
eyes in answer to the look on her face.
    “ Mom, really, I’m
fine— we’re fine.”
He grabbed my hand and pushed his other between us. Letting go of
me, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her worries into
oblivion.
    She clung to him. The top of her head
fit perfectly under his chin and her delicate hands rubbed circles
across his back.
    “ I don’t want Camille’s
thoughtless comment to ruin Wilson’s birthday,” she
said.
    “ Little late on that one, mom,” Max
snapped as he pulled away.
    Nancy held her hands out to me then,
and I meandered over to her. She placed her arms across my
shoulders.
    “ Well, I’m serious. It’s
your day, Wilson.” Nancy tucked my hair behind my shoulders. I
could see where Max inherited his gorgeous, green eyes. I was
mesmerized by her. She was able to convince us to sit at the
butcher block-style island and finish our lunch.
    “ No worries,” I mumbled.
How was I supposed to react to the situation? I hated
confrontation—so if there was any way to avoid it, I
would.
    It wasn’t long before we inhaled our
lunch and Nancy was working to make everything perfect
again.
    “ So, Maxi, what are your
plans for tonight?” Nancy asked as she plunged her hands under the
running faucet.
    My breath broke from my lungs,
refusing to return. I gasped for a small morsel of air. Suddenly,
visions of us together in his sun-saturated bedroom crammed my
head—the soft silk of what I wore, how it felt as he kissed me and
caressed my skin. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. I glanced
over at him, our eyes met, and a crooked smile that nourished his
eyes and pulled at my heart rose across his face.
    “ Ahh, Ma, nothing much;
maybe we’ll have a little dinner before calling it a night. Wilson
and I are pretty tired.” Max looked over at me for validation. I
just gave a slight smile before I dropped my eyes to my empty
plate.
    “ Oh, Maxi, now it isn’t
every day Wilson’s here. And for her birthday, no less. Don’t you
want to do something special for her? Maybe take her down to the
shops on South Galena Street?” Nancy pulled a black and white
checkered microfiber towel from the brass hook next to the sink to
dry her hands.
    “ Ma, come on.”
    “ Well, honey, just because
you don’t like to shop doesn’t mean Wilson feels the same way. She
might really enjoy going downtown. Besides, the Twelve Days of
Aspen is in full swing and it looks absolutely stunning down there
with all the lights,” Nancy pushed as her attempt to bring us all
back to normal was plastered across her face.
    What she didn’t know was, I was never
one to go shopping; I knew when to call a spade a spade. Nothing
was going to change the fact that I didn’t have the unlimited
supply of funds that most girls at my school had. Ninety-nine
percent of the students at Wesley had their daddy’s credit cards or
access to an allowance that eclipsed my grandfather’s pension and
social security. And without fail, someone would always try and
make me out to be their charity case for the year.
    Max just shook his head,
smiling.
    “ Well if you don’t take
her, then I will. Right, Wilson?” Nancy pushed her hand between my
elbow and hip and locked