Freddie woke Molly too early, to the usual whimpers of protest. "I gotta tell you something." When she didn't respond right away he added, "I brought coffee."
"Leave it on the night stand," she groaned, rolling away to hide under the pillow.
He lifted the edge and peeked in at her. "Chica, this is important, try to focus."
She pulled the blankets over the pillow and mumbled, "This is as good as it gets right now. Shoot."
Freddie leaned close to the pile of bedding, and murmured in his most quietly persuasive voice, "Come to New York with me for Thanksgiving. It's time to be brave and meet my parents." No movement, but Molly's voice was a little more distinct than before.
"You're loco. Your parents would hate me."
"No, no, my parents love you already." He leaned an arm over her to keep her from rolling away. "Really. They know how hard you work to keep me together, how you listen to me and put up with my bullshit, they know how we've been friends almost from the start. They know how brave and strong you are because I've told them."
"Ten bucks says you left out a minor detail," she snorted from beneath the pillow.
Glad she couldn't see him grimace, he breezed by the comment and promised, "We can stay at a hotel if you want."
Out popped Molly's head. "Holy crap, you're serious, aren't you?"
"As a heart attack, mama. Come on, I know you can't go to Jimmy and Ruth's because they're going to Tahiti or someplace."
"St. Thomas."
"Yeah, sand and palm trees, whatever. So I figure this is your first big holiday alone, you know, since…" he hesitated.
"You mean after Reggie? Wendy and me always did Thanksgiving no matter what Reggie said. It was worth the beating to be together for that. But she said she's gonna do turkey with Joey and his family, you know the other bartender, he has it so bad for her and she's finally gonna give it a chance."
He sat back and observed, "Imagine that. She's gonna give it a chance and do turkey with him and his family. What a thought." Molly said nothing, but smirked up at him, so he dialed up the boyish charm to maximum. "C'mon, you know you don't want to be all alooooooone while I'm living it up back East."
"Living it up. In Brooklyn." She did not look impressed.
"Nah, I bought ma and dad a place in Queens. Very high class. So how about coming to a nice friendly family Thanksgiving, Hunga-Rican style? My mom's family is much bigger than my dad's, but they're all pretty cool, cousins and nieces and nephews, you'll love 'em."
She looked thoughtful. "So these nephews... they as good looking as you?"
In a flat voice he told her, "They're sixteen and fourteen."
Her eyes widened in exaggerated innocence. "So? What's your point?"
"Oooh, trading down, huh?" he accused with feigned shock and warned, "Even in New York we got laws against that."
"Gotta catch me first." She dropped her face back into the pillow. "Look it's not fair to ambush me like this. I'm not fully conscious, I haven't had any coffee yet," she glanced at the clock. Eight a.m, and it was Saturday. "It's too damn early."
Freddie switched to his upper crust English accent. "The element of surprise, my dear." Then, back to normal he asked, "Did it work?" He leaned down so his head was on the pillow, and looked into her face.
Shit. He looked so little-boy hopeful she hated to disappoint him, but at the same time she knew he was a master at cultivating the puppy-dog look and could turn it on and off like a flashlight.
"You swear you haven't told them about us, like this us?" She waved her hand to indicate the bed, with her in it and him plastered on top of her.
"I swear. They know everything else about us except 'this' us. They want to meet you, Molly, they wanna meet the wonder woman who keeps me together and watches out for my life. Come on, it's been three years and they wanna meet you."
"Lemme think about it, okay?" she begged.
Now he sat up and laughed. "Who you kiddin'? When you think too much you get too weird. Say yes, querida, for once just say yes and for once I'll take care of everything else, okay?"
She blew out a sigh. "Oh all right, I'll come to New York with you. I trust you to make all the arrangements and tell all the stories you need to tell. I'll even try to learn everybody's names. Now can I go back to sleep for a while, huh?" She fought him off with a groan as he covered her face with kisses.
"Sure, besita, go back to sleep," he tucked her in neatly and promised, "We are gonna have a great time."
"Uh-huh," she grumped and went back to sleep.
"So what exactly did I agree to?" Molly asked as she stumbled into the living room an hour or so later, clad in panties and one of Freddie's cashmere sweaters.
"You're coming to New York with me for Thanksgiving. It's too late to change your mind, hah, I made the plane reservations while you were sleeping." Freddie looked very proud of himself.
She poured herself a cup of coffee and flopped into one of his cushy, oversized armchairs. "You shifty bastard. I thought I said I wanted to think about it."
"Then you said 'all right'. You must have missed that part."
She glared at him over the rim of her coffee mug as he crowded into the chair beside her and promised, "It's gonna be great. You'll love my family. They already love you. My mom has a whole army of crazy relatives and I promise they'll speak English for you."
Freddie seemed so wound up by the prospect of making holiday plans Molly thought she'd have to pull him down off the ceiling. She looked hard at him. "I think I liked you better when you were chasing teenagers."
"You are such a liar." He gave her a hug and copped a playful feel. "You wanna keep that sweater? It's more fun on you."
"Sure. I'll wear it to New York," she deadpanned. "You can tell your parents I'm a cross-dresser."
"Will you relax? You're gonna have a great time. I promise. So you gotta believe me."