Thanksgiving

Kate's POV

Clyde's phone call hasn't ended yet, and I'm watching him become increasingly gloomy. Whatever his mother had in mind intrigues me. His mom is one of my favorites. I've talked to her for the past two years at least once a week, and we've always gotten along. To get what she wants, she uses her sweetness to her advantage. Everyone, including her son, would have a hard time saying no.

As I enter Clyde's office, I greet him with a friendly smile and a cup of tea.

"Thank you," he says, but his tone is strained.

During sipping his tea, I notice that he appears to be ignoring my presence.

"Did your mother ever tell you anything?"

"Her only concern was when I would arrive in time for Thanksgiving."

"Oh. What I saw in your face led me to believe it was a bad situation."

Even though I try to smile, he doesn't join in, so I close the distance between us. Eventually, he raises his head and gulps down a mouthful of water.

"I will need you to join me for Thanksgiving," he says.

"Could you possibly be serious?"

"I am serious," he responded.

As his cheeks flush, I turn my back on him and return to my desk. When Clyde and I are alone, it's not good for me to spend so much time with him. As soon as my thoughts turn to us as a couple, I know I have to do something about it. After only two steps, Clyde interrupts me once more.

"I told my mom that we're dating."

After a startled gasp, I come to a halt and turn to face him. I'm waiting for him to explain himself as I stare at him with eyes the size of dinner plates. His fingers are tapping an erratic beat against the wall.

Whenever he notices me watching him, he stops fidgeting around on the wood of his desk.

"She wanted to set up a date for me with a different girl. To avoid another of her ruses, I pretended to be seeing someone else when she asked who it was, so I just said it was you."

It makes me happy that he picked me to be his girlfriend, even though I know it's all a ploy. Possibly he has feelings for me. Finally, it dawns on me; that he didn't pick me after all. Considering he rarely leaves the house except for work, it's understandable that he couldn't think of anyone else.

"People are eagerly awaiting your arrival at Thanksgiving because of this. But, unfortunately, if we want to avoid traffic, we'll need to leave by 9:00 p.m. to get there by 10:00 p.m."

"Clyde, what if I had Thanksgiving plans?"

"The distance between your home and your parents is fifteen hours, and you didn't ask for any time off."

"Maybe I was out with friends in the city for a meal," I said

"I'm the only one who cares about you in this city."

"Because I don't have the time to meet anyone else!" I said.

"That is why you signed up for a dating app?" Clyde asked.

Clyde's rage causes my mouth to open and me to back away.

"How did you know about it?" I wonder.

"When did you last check your work computer for messages? As if I didn't know what you were looking at."

His displeasure with my dating profile can only be explained by one thing. He's jealous. If he's looking at my computer history, I know he's aware of my job applications because he's doing so. Therefore, his refusal to let me leave implies that he is equally opposed to my leaving.

"Are you jealous of that?"

"Not at all," Clyde responded. A quick reply, but his fidgeting in the chair has returned. "By the way, have you met my mom? She's not going to let up. So many people will want to know what I'm up to. If she doesn't see you and us together at Thanksgiving, she'll ask lots of questions about you and our relationship and invite you to another dinner. Taking a break now would be more convenient than waiting until the end of the project."

Knowing he's right, I pause to consider what he says.

"You don't appear to have any other plans, do you?" he asked.

For a split second, I hold his gaze before giving in.

"Well, it's not something else I'm doing, no. So, what if instead of spending Thanksgiving with your family, I'll be getting a raise and an extra week off. A two-day Christmas vacation, plus a 2% raise."

I extend my hand and say, "Three percent and four days."

"Deal."

Before firmly shaking my hand, Clyde observes me with a wary look on his face.

I smile at him, and he smiles back, but it's tentative.

"Now, what exactly are we bringing with us?" I asked.

"Just us," Clyde said.

"You didn't even mention bringing any food or beverages?"

"She never said we had to."

"Clyde!" I sigh. "Wait, I'll call her back. The least we can do is bringing a dessert or a beverage."

The moment I leave the office and sit at my desk, dialing Clyde's mom, Clyde's expression on his face is already strange. I'm curious to see how I look. But, in the end, I'm not sure what I think. For some reason, this Thanksgiving will change our relationship in some way for the worse.

Though, keep reminding myself that this is just a game, and I'll be fine. Neither Clyde nor I see each other; I'm just here to help him with his mother. Clyde's girlfriend? The phrase keeps coming to mind as the phone rings. My brightest voice is used to greet his mom when she finally picks up.

"Hey, Mrs. Wilson! I'd like to know what Clyde and I can bring for Thanksgiving?"

"Kate! Gosh! My heart swelled with joy when Clyde finally acknowledged that you and he were in a relationship. I've had my suspicions about the two of you for a long time. I wish you had told me sooner," she said.

I'm terrified. For some reason, I feel like Clyde and I should have talked about what we would say to everyone.

"Mrs. Wilson, first of all, we wanted to make sure this was real before we started spreading the word to our friends and colleagues."

"I get it, honey," she responds. "It's complicated because you two work together, but I knew Clyde liked you after the first month. You are the only one who has lasted longer than two weeks. So I had a feeling it was something. As a result, even though you are the best assistant."

"Mrs.Wilson, you have my gratitude. So, what can we bring to the table, or do you prefer something else? "

"Right! How about a bottle of wine?"

"Of course! Let me know if you need anything else."

"Sure. We'll see you on Thursday,"

"See you, Mrs. Wilson. Thanks a lot."

I finish writing a note to myself to go out and buy a couple of bottles of wine. I put the phone down and put it away. We'll need it, I think.