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“My parents invited us all to their place in Seattle for Christmas, and I thought it’d be, well, prudent to get your permission before we accepted.”
Anya stares at one of the street lights adorning the parking lot until there’s dots swimming in her vision. “Grant, that’s--” She blinks, hard, and rubs her thumb against the crinkle forming between her brows. “You need my permission to take him out of state, it’s not a matter of what’s prudent.” She breathes, trying to sort through one hundred thoughts at once. “It’s confusing him. You know that, right? It’s, I don’t care what you two get up to,” she does, but not for the reasons Curly seems to think she does, “but I don’t know how to explain to him why his father’s friend is over all the time, or why Uncle Curly isn’t really appropriate, or why he’d be going to see your parents for Christmas."
Bookmarked by FriendofDorthy
30 Dec 2024