A Love Worth Fighting For

Ch. 7

"Hey babe, your mom asked if we could host Thanksgiving at our house this year," Clay said when I answered the phone.

"Umm, I guess we can but someone else will have to take over Christmas this year, I think."

"Okay, I'll let her know. How about we meet up at the grocery store after your finished? Your mom sent me a list."

"Sounds good. I'll see you later. Love you."

"Love you, too," he said before we ended the call.

This time around, I didn't keep telling myself that things were better because I didn't want to jinx myself. Yes, we have gotten closer again. I've stopped sleeping in the guest room but I just knew things would pop off again if I said anything positive. Clay still wasn't talking about other things so I was treading carefully when we talked.

When I got to the store, I pulled in beside Clay. He was on the phone so I just waited until he was finished before I got out of my car. After he hung up, he came over to the drivers side and opened the door for me.

"Here's the listed your mom sent me. I halved it so it would be a little easier to get in and out."

"Okay but let me look at your half. There still might be some everyday items that wasn't included."

"Sure," he said, handing me his half.

After scanning both, I noticed that my list had ingredients for desserts. There were a couple of things that I would need that wasn't included so I pulled a pen out of my purse and jotted it down.

"Here," I said, handing the paper back.

"Meet back here?" he asked.

"Yep."

As I was walking through the baking aisle, I remembered that we needed some coffee filters and creamer so I headed back towards diary.

"Fancy running into you here," I heard a familiar voice and internally groaned.

"Ugh," I slipped as I turned around and saw Henry.

"Last minute Thanksgiving dinner shopping?" Henry asked.

"Yep," I answered shortly.

"Dinner at your house I'm guessing," he stated, taking a step closer.

"Good job, Sherlock," I said under my breath. "Umm..." I said loud enough for him to hear this time and taking a step back. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't get so close to me. My fiancé is here and I don't want anything to set him off. He can get kind of angry."

"You're still going on with that story?" he asked. "What is it about me that makes you tell this story?"

"I have my own question," I retorted. "Why is it that you're always at the grocery store at the same time I am? You have either figured out where I live or you follow me after class. I'm going to go with that because if you knew where I lived you would see my fiancé coming in and out of the house."

"I don't..." he started but I interrupted him.

"Are you that obsessed with an unattainable woman or what? Why do you think that I'm coming up with some fictional fiancé."

"Hey babe," I heard Clays voice. "I thought maybe we could make an apple pie also but I couldn't find the canned apples."

"It's okay. I prefer fresh apples anyway," I told him.

"Who's this?" Henry asked causing Clay to turn around.

"Clay Redden."

"Henry Marcum," he said and a look crossed Clay's face.