The front door swung open before Eric had even turned off the engine. Myrium Mendelson stood on the porch, arms already open for Wendy.

  “Look at you!” she cried, pulling Wendy into a fierce hug. “Still beautiful, still trouble.”

  Then her eyes landed on Thomas.

  Myrium stepped back, hands on hips, and gave him the full once-over. “So. You’re the one. Turn around.”

  “Mom!” Shoshana groaned from behind her.

  Thomas obediently did a slow circle, cheeks pink.

  Myrium nodded once. “I can see it. Come in before my daughter combusts.”

  Inside, she steered Thomas to a single wooden chair slightly apart from the rest of the furniture—like a witness stand with better upholstery—and shooed Eric and Wendy toward the kitchen. “Go. Eat something. This will only take a minute.”

  They obeyed, plates already in hand, but hovered just inside the doorway.

  Myrium folded her arms. “Tell me, Thomas. What exactly are your intentions with my daughter?”

  He swallowed. “I… don’t know what answer you want, ma’am.”

  “Did you or did you not hold her hand last night? After she picked you over her own family?”

  Thomas took a steadying breath. “Yes, ma’am. But the closest thing I ever had to a girlfriend moved to Arizona three years ago. We were twelve. Since then—two crushes that never went anywhere. I’ve seen Shoshana twice. Both times we just talked. And it was… easy. So my only intention right now is to keep talking. In person if we can. On the phone if we have to. That’s it.”

  Myrium raised an eyebrow. “And sex?”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Thomas didn’t flinch. “I’m not discussing that with you today.”

  “You don’t find her attractive?”

  “She takes after her mother,” he said, meeting Myrium’s eyes. “But my life is complicated enough right now without adding that conversation. If the answer is no talking, just say it and I’ll respect it.”

  Shoshana jumped in. “Mom, we haven’t even kissed. He’s the first guy who actually listens instead of trying to impress me. Can we just… keep talking?”

  Myrium turned to the kitchen doorway. “Wendy?”

  Wendy leaned against the frame, plate balanced on one hand. “I slept until ten this morning because that boy got up at dawn, fed my toddler, and let us sleep. I found them both passed out on the couch like a pair of cats. That answer your question?”

  Myrium’s stern mask cracked. She looked at Thomas for a long moment, then opened her arms.

  “Come here.”

  He stood. She pulled him into a hug that smelled of vanilla and fresh challah, and whispered against his ear, “Thank you.”

  Then, louder: “Shoshana, show him his room. Door stays open.”

  Upstairs, Shoshana pushed a door open and stepped aside.

  Thomas froze in the doorway.

  A real bed. A desk with a brand-new computer. Bookshelf already half-filled with the blue-bound volumes from last night. A reading chair and lamp in the corner. Sunlight poured through the window.

  “I… don’t know what to say.”

  “Sit,” Shoshana said, pointing to the chair. She hopped onto the bed, legs swinging.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For my grandparents. For everything. Was what you told my mom true?”

  “Every word. Blunt usually works better than fancy.”

  She smiled. “So… what are we?”

  “I’m interested in finding out,” he said. “You?”

  “Very.” She bit her lip. “Veronica’s already declared you off-limits to the entire junior class, by the way.”

  Thomas laughed. “I noticed. She’s a good friend to you.”

  “She is.” Shoshana leaned forward. “So what do we tell people?”

  “That we’re interested in pursuing this. Slowly. If we’re at something together, we sit together. If you want to hold my hand, grab it. If you want a hug, take one. No pressure, no rush.”

  She nodded, cheeks pink. “I like that plan.”

  He glanced toward the hallway. “When you come visit… I might sleep on the porch.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why?”

  “Because I’m still a teenage boy and you’re still beautiful,” he said, blushing hard. “I’d rather be cold than stupid.”

  Shoshana’s blush matched his. “Oh.”

  Thomas stood and offered his hand. “Come on. Your mom’s blintzes aren’t going to eat themselves.”

  She took his hand, lacing their fingers without hesitation.

  As they walked downstairs together, door dutifully open behind them, Thomas realized the medallion around his neck wasn’t the heaviest thing he was carrying anymore.

  It was her hand in his.

  And it felt exactly right.