And sometimes I wished it was not just her and me. Sometimes I wished we had a house, a real one, and, god, I'm so stupid. I sound like that stupid Christmas movie, the one we watch at Thanksgiving. That's why I'm thinking about it. The girl wishes for a dad and a house from a catalog and Santa brings it. I didn't want that so much as the house Barbie has. That Barbie dream house is excellent.

But this year, I'm not a kid. I'm not wishing for lame things anymore. I'm on my own, just visiting Ellen for Thanksgiving. It will mean a lot to her since I'm away at college and all. And this year for the first time, maybe ever, I'm just happy. I'm just thankful because I met Max.

Gwen's Life - the day before...

"So..." Max kissed her under the chin, and she let him back her into the closet. He just loved to back her into things, like he was hunting her down, like she was a gazelle or something.

She laughed, but still managed to get them out of the closet. She tried to push him away, but he wouldn't go, and she didn't try very hard. She did need to get him out of her room before Ellen came to pick her up. "I'll see you Monday."

He kissed her again. "Too long."

"It's just a four day weekend. Gotta go home for Thanksgiving."

"Come to my house." He seemed to rethink it, shook his head. "Let me come with you."

Like that would happen. As it was, she had to get him out before her house came to him. "James Dean would never approve, and your mother's feelings would be hurt."

"It would take her the whole weekend to remember she had feelings. By then I'd be back."

"Mean and not true." Gwen looked at her watch.

Max raised an eyebrow.

"Okay. Part-way true. Still mean. You have to go." She jumped at the knock. Damn.

Pulling herself away from Max, she opened the door to her worst nightmare, Ellen dressed for town. Gwen saw her through Max's eyes. He was used to pearls and pumps and the discrete hint of Channel, but Ellen loved Fellipe of Beverly Hills, and Gwen doubted the guy was from Beverly Hills or even named Fellipe.

The fragrance swung in like a baseball bat of sugar and nearly knocked her out, but Max smiled and seemed ready to be introduced. To his credit he wasn't staring at the big ole serving of cleavage jostling in the tight blouse. Maybe his mom had done a better job of raising him than he gave her credit for.

"I'm Max Holter. You must be Mrs. Ciarrochi."

"Aren't you the sweetest boy? I'm Ellen. Gwennie, he's so polite."

"Yeah. You're early, Mom."

"Early bird gets the worm."

Max grinned at her. "First come. First served."

Ellen lit up like it was a great game. "He who hesitates is lost."

"But he," Max paused for effect, "Who is last shall now be first."

"And fools rush in where angels fear to tread."

"But the meek shall inherit the earth." Max waited, and they both laughed.

"Oh, he's funny, Gwennie. Keep this one."

Gwen felt her cheeks heat. That wasn't going to freak him out or anything. And of all the advice her mother should give, fools rush in where angels fear to tread? She wanted to add to their old-timey sayings with hello, kettle, you're black.

Ellen, clueless as always, just smiled, touched Max's arm and nodded towards the door. "I'll just wait for you in the hall, Gwennie."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Ciarrochi."

"Ellen." She gave him a wink and left.

Gwen stepped into the closet.

Max watched her close the door and would have laughed, but he'd seen her turn red and knew this was serious girl business and the wrong word might make her mad for probably ever. Or she'd cry. God, he didn't think he could survive that. So he'd go with normal conversation and hope she'd come on out, and he'd get to kiss her again before the long Thanksgiving weekend. "So, we're having turkey. I used to get the wish bone. You ever do that?" Well, he'd have to do better than that. "Bet Ellen makes a good turkey."

Gwen's muffled voice came through the door. "She barely cooks."

"Bet you make a good one." He waited.

"Pretty good."

"She's got other things going for her."

"Ohmygod you did not just say that."

Well, hell. That's not what he'd meant. She was old. Yuck. What could Gwen be thinking? "I mean that she's funny. And smart like you. And strong. You can see it."

"Right."

Did Gwen honestly not get it? "She couldn't have lost her husband and raised you alone and had you turn out so great, if she weren't okay, Gwen." He watched the closet door crack open, slid his foot in enough he could wedge it the rest of the way, and squeezed in. Four days apart. He had to put his hands on her even if just for a second. He pulled her body tight against his, felt the relief of having her arms around his neck, her mouth open to him. They staggered back, the clothes swinging, the metal hangers clanging against the back wall.

Ellen's voice carried from the hallway. "I don't know what you're up to..."

Max froze, still holding Gwen.

"But you need to let Gwen go."

He shook his head. "How does she do that?"

"Dad told me you were moving back home." Missy had said it ten times already, and Gwen didn't think she could hear it again and not go strangle Steve. She'd remind Missy that it was Steve who had done the leaving, but she didn't want her to be put in the middle. Of course, Steve had done that when he'd taken away her dorm room, well, the dorm room Gwen had taken from Missy in the first place. Damn, she needed to strangle somebody. Maybe herself.

The whole gang sat around Max's table while he flipped French toast in the kitchen. French, naturally. The guy couldn't have made pancakes. Well, she wasn't going to have any, just drink her coffee and go, go before she discovered the coffee was French roast and have to boycott that as well. Not that he'd notice. He'd set up Ellen on a tall stool at the breakfast bar, and she'd cracked the eggs for him, the two of them making breakfast like they'd worked together before.

The boys and Annie had delivered Missy, who'd spent the night somewhere and only found out in the morning. Gwen intended to straighten herself out first, however long that took, then grill the girl to figure out what she'd been up to. Not that Gwen really wanted to know. The advantage of your child going off to college was that you didn't know what they were up to.

She'd counted on that when she'd been eighteen, hadn't she? Ellen back home in the dark, although given her Mom's correct guessing down the hall, she probably hadn't been in much darkness. Wherever Missy had been, she hoped it wasn't with some Austin knock-off. The original had been bad enough, clone that boy and you'd get a poor imitation of a poor original. Like a photo copy, the subsequent copies could only get dimmer.

She watched the boys with Missy. Yeah, they'd found the new girl alright. Bryan sat on one side of her, Hayden on the other. She eyed Bryan. He was a great kid, but he'd better not be dating Missy. Hayden, on the other hand, was smart and reliable and Gwen would definitely put in a good word on his behalf. As if Missy would go for him.

"She is a bit of one, but we love her just the same."

Gwen looked up to see her mother nodding at her. What had she missed?

Max grinned, happy it seemed, to fill her in. "She just called you a fuddy duddy."

"She did not." Gwen looked at her mother then glared at Max.

He put his hand on his chest. "I didn't call anybody a fuddy duddy. I might say repressed or provincial."

"Provincial's good." Annie set the plate of French toast on the table where it was immediately forked by four boys.

"I'm not provincial." Who called people provincial? "Oh, I'm not international. Excuse me for being an American woman."

He lifted one hand and a spatula in innocence. "Your mother merely suggested that it wouldn't work with Dingo Boy because you're a fuddy duddy."

"Mother!"

"Gwennie, I've dated plenty of younger men, but I don't think you could loosen up enough. Nothing wrong with staying in your comfort zone."

Max flipped four more golden squares onto a plate. "The Crikey Kid is a long way out of Gwen's comfort zone."

Missy snagged a piece of toast from the batch. "Ty's really hot, but Mranda said you didn't really have a date with him."

"Well, Mranda's wrong." God she wanted to take that bleach blonde down a peg. "All the time, incidentally. And he's not that young, and it's not like I'm the hunchback of Belmar. Why is it so unbelievable?"

Missy shrugged. "You're a mom. He's Australian."

"Not." Max shook his head, his hair curling around the edges and still damp from his shower not that she'd noticed. "He's not Australian. He just talks like one to lure unsuspecting American moms."

He'd called her a cougar once, and she'd let him live, but she wasn't going to stick around and take it past the half cup of coffee she had left. "Screw you."

Bryan grinned. "Ooh, you're pissing Venus off, dude."

"Alright." Ellen clapped her hands once. "This is not suitable breakfast talk."

"Thank you, mom."

"We need to use appropriate language." She turned to Max. "If you really want to know, simply ask her if she had intercourse with the boy."

Gwen choked on her coffee. "Intercourse? That's appropriate breakfast conversation?"

"Yes." Ellen delicately placed another slice of bread in the egg batter. "I didn't say screwed or laid or, of course, the f-bomb."

"How do you even know--"

"Back home I am in a mixed bunco group. I hear things, Gwennie. I hear things."

"Well, I didn't do anything inappropriate with that man." The kiss might have been somewhat, but not entirely, inappropriate. Of course, if Steve had been in the hall and not Mranda, it might have technically been the appropriate that's in.

"Hey!" Jason pointed at her, his fork waving a hunk of eggy bread that dripped with maple syrup. "Something happened." He turned to Hayden. "Did you see her face? Venus had that thing." Jason pointed to the right corner of the kitchen and let his eyes follow.

Gwen tried to track what he saw. "I looked at the ceiling?"

"No," Hayden sat up straighter, a young professor with the opportunity to educate the masses. He was a sweet boy, but if he said anything insulting, she was going to strangle him. "You looked this way with your eyeballs and that's the making things up look. You know, when your eyeballs go that way, you're using the side of the brain where things are made up. I think you were lying. Not that I think any less of you."

"Thank you, Hayden. But I wasn't lying."

Max brought the last of the food to the table and sat down. "Sins of commission."

Hayden nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that." He looked around the table and seemed to realize no one else understood. "She didn't lie so much as not tell us--"

Max jumped in, "Her friends, what really happened."

"I don't have to--"

"We tell her plenty." Bryan looked hurt.

"We tell her everything." Annie turned to Guy who nodded in agreement.

"He kissed me. End of discussion."

"Did you kiss him back?" Max looked around the table. "Your friends want to know because we care about you and don't want to see you taken advantage of by a younger man who is probably just after your social security checks."

Jason sighed. "My dad says social security's not even going to be there for us. It's so unfair. We are the screwed..." he looked at Ellen. "Sorry. We are the intercoursed generation."

"I do not collect social security."

"Well," Jason reached for more orange juice, "You'd better get it now before it's too late."

"It's too early! I'm too young. I'm young, plenty young enough to go to college and live in the dorm and start over and kiss Ty back in the elevator."

"In the elevator?" Bryan reached up for a high five. "The mile high club."

"That's in an airplane," Max shook his head, "What are they teaching young men these days? Get the sexual terms straight, boy."

"That's sex in an airplane." Gwen caught her mother clearing her throat. "Intercourse in an airplane. No airplane and no intercourse. A kiss." She turned to Max, "What are they teaching grown men these days?"

"To do more than kiss a woman in an elevator, the Aussie amateur."

She could still see the doors opening to the vindictive face of Mranda, and then the smug arrogance of Steve telling her he controlled the college fund. "Ty was interrupted because Mranda and Steve were there."

Ellen snorted. "I bet the tool took that well."

"Is that why Dad said you were going home because you were making out with Ty?" Missy sucked in a breath, "Is that why the university kicked you out? Fraternizing with a student?"

"I am a student. And the university didn't kick me out, just out of the room. My God, I'm going out for breakfast from now on. You're all making me nuts."

"That's what he said." Bryan laughed.

Gwen glared at him.

"Sorry, Venus."