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“Brooke!” Mrs C says, holding her arms out. “I’ve heard so much about you”

“Hi.” I smile politely, accepting the hug she forces on me. “It’s lovely to meet you. Thanks for letting me join.”

“Any girl who can put up with those four boys is always welcome to join us.” She squeezes my arms when she pulls back and pulls me over to the seats; my heart squeezes like it normally does when anyone’s parents are remotely nice or normal.

And that’s trauma for you folks.

We all settle in at the table, and Mrs C immediately starts talking to me about The Drop while the boys catch Mr C up on their games while we wait for Gunnar and Sasha.

But after twenty minutes and no sign of them, Mrs C is getting irritated “Do you want to text Gunnar again and see where they are?” Mrs C huffs as we ask our server for more time for the fourth time.

Just as he gets his phone out, Gunnar walks in alone. “Sorry I’m late,” he says out of breath, and his mom gets up to hug him. “Sasha isn’t feeling well, so she couldn’t make it.”

“She sounded fine last night,” Adam said, narrowing his eyes, looking down at his menu. I elbow him.

Gunnar slips into conversation with the boys, and I pick up my coffee cup. “So, are you heading home for Thanksgiving, Brooke?” Mrs C asks, and I shake my head in response. “Oh, does your family live out of state?”

“Um, no, it’s just my mom and I, but we haven’t really spoken in a while, so I just made plans without her.” As I say it, it sounds awkward, and as much as I don’t want it to sound like I don't get along with my mom, that’s exactly how it sounds.

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey.” She rubs my arm, and I’m reminded again of what I’m missing out on by having no relationship with my mom. “Families are difficult, but things always work out.”

I nod back, unsure what to say; could I work things out with my mom?

She hadn’t reached out, but I guess neither had I. I've been thinking about it recently, and now, with time, maybe she’s thought about what happened and feels differently.

Someone nudges my foot, and I look up at Grant; he smiles at me, and I smile back. He’s got a weird superpower of knowing when I need a little support.

I pull my phone out as I get a text. “Cami got back early. She’s going to join us. Is that ok?”

“Of course it is, we love Cami”, she claps her hands together excitedly, and I smile, texting Cami back. Mrs C is everything my mom is not, and it’s a breath of fresh air. I also clocked the panicked look on Gunnar’s face.

“You said she was out of town, Gunnar,” Mrs C scolds, turning to him. “She was,” he mutters, taking a bite of food. “You heard Brooke say she got back into town?”

“It’ll be good to see her,” Mr C cuts in, attempting to de-escalate Gunnar's sour mood. “Yes,we love watching her competitions, and she’s always nice when we message.” Mrs C agrees.

“You message her?!” Gunnar chokes on his coffee while we all watch back and forth between him and his parents like a ping-pong match. “Since when?”

“Since the first time we met her,” Mrs C replies, narrowing her eyes. “She’s a lovely girl, Gunnar, and she’s always been a good friend to you. We support all your friends.”

“We don’t have any other kids,” Mr C explains to me over the table. “So we like to keep up with all his friends, it makes us feel like we’ve got a bigger family than we do.”

“That’s nice,” I say, tilting my head, my heart melting. I notice Gunnar rolling his eyes, and I kick him under the table.

“Ow,” Bear shouts, reaching down to rub his leg, looking at Adam. “Did you kick me?”

“What? No, I did–” Adam goes to respond, but I cut in.

“Seriously, Adam, can we just have one nice meal?” I huff, covering for myself, and Grant nods, "Seriously, bud, it doesn't always have to be about you”

While Adam scrambles to defend himself, I see Cami through the glass window of the diner and wave.

“Mr & Mrs C!” Cami shouts as she walks through the door, interrupting Adam.

“Cami!” They both get up and hug her. I can’t help but laugh at Gunnar’s confused face.

“I think it’s nice that your parents support your friends.” I lean over the table to say to Gunnar. “Don’t be rude to them or I’ll glitter bomb your room.”

“You wouldn’t.” He narrows his eyes at me.