I Like You a Latte {Completed}

12 | Accepting the Invitation

Blowing out a heavy breath, Beverly let her gaze drift between the two cans of cranberry sauce in her hands.

Jellied or Whole Berry? Jellied would hold together better for turkey sandwiches, but Whole Berry always tastes better and—

"Miss Bev?"

She spun around, smiling cheerfully when her eyes settled on Cynthia pushing a cart filled to the brim with various Thanksgiving items. "Fancy seeing you here!" Cynthia continued, stopping the cart and pulling Beverly into a quick but tight hug. "I didn't realize college students had to shop, too."

Rolling her eyes at the older woman's teasing, Beverly held up the cans in her grasp. "Just the necessities," she snorted. "I don't want to get too much, since it's just me, but I have to have some cranberry sauce—I don't eat turkey without it."

Cynthia's mouth dropped open with shock. "You're not going home?"

"Nah," Beverly shrugged, unbothered, "we don't get much of a break, so it's not really worth it. It's okay, though, I've gotten used to it."

"Unacceptable." Cynthia took both cans from Beverly, throwing them into her cart without a word. "Here, see? Now that I've taken these from you, you'll need to come eat Thanksgiving dinner with us. Griffin and I could always use more company."

Beverly blinked, stunned by the sudden turn of events. "Are you sure? That would be great, of course, but I don't want to intrude and—"

"Oh, nonsense!" Cynthia waved her off haphazardly. "You'll come over Thanksgiving Day, anytime at all, and Griffin will be oh-so pleased. In fact, I'll have him pick you up." She whipped out her phone, pressing it to her ear and sending Beverly a cheery thumbs-up.

Beverly stared resolutely at the ground, her fingers twisted in her T-shirt as Cynthia started talking. She wasn't used to feeling so embarrassed, but she couldn't help it; wasn't it sort of pitiful for your (hopefully) future boyfriend's godmother to be calling on your behalf to ask permission to bring you home for Thanksgiving?

Not a question I ever though I'd be asking, to be honest.

"Hello, darling godson." Cynthia's jovial tone snapped Beverly from her thoughts. "I have a favor to ask: How do you feel about having a guest over for Thanksgiving?"

There was the distinct sound of grumbling on the other end of the line, until Cynthia cut in, "No, no, nothing like that. Our lovely guest is none other than Miss Bev, who was planning to spend Thanksgiving all by herself in her tiny dorm room." When Beverly peeked up, her eyes widened at Cynthia's mischievous wink, and she turned away once more, wondering if this was how Griffin felt around his godmother.

"We can't have that, I agree." The woman continued. "Would you be able to pick her up? Excellent, excellent. She'll text you her dorm number so you can pick her up at the door. Thank you, dear. Hm, what's that? Oh," Beverly looked up once more, hiding a wince when she saw Cynthia's shit-eating grin. "I'll tell her. Okay, uh-huh, bye now."

Hanging up, Cynthia informed her cheekily, "Griffin says 'hello,' and that he is beyond thrilled at having you join us for the holiday."

Beverly's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Cynthia chuckled, holding her hands up in a sign of surrender. "Alright, he didn't quite say all that, but it was definitely implied. I'll see you on Thursday, okay? And no, you don't have to bring anything. Bye-bye, now, hon!"

And then Cynthia was gone, leaving Beverly with an empty shopping cart but an entire load of mixed feelings.

***