Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“I know, right?” Bree had gotten up at the crack of dawn to stuff the turkey with our grandmother’s corn-bread recipe she had now memorized.
Hailey reached for Jesse’s hand and pulled him toward the living room, where she had three coloring books open on the coffee table.
“C’mon, Seff,” Hailey said over her shoulder, and he looked relieved to be given some direction, even by a four-year-old.
“Glad you came,” I said, patting him on the back, hoping to make him feel more comfortable.
As Jesse made himself at home on the floor beside Hailey, I noticed how Seth curiously eyed the mantel. Bree had gone on a decorating spree last night after we all pitched in to clean and do some food prep. She’d had Mark lug a couple of holiday boxes from the basement, and Hailey got in the spirit too with the silver garland, most of which had ended up in a sparkly mess on the area rug.
After I introduced Jesse and Seth to Mark, I asked for their drink orders, then helped Bree set the side dishes in the center of the table. Once we were all seated, Mark made a big deal of carving the turkey, which had become a tradition for them.
Seth was talking to Bree about their apartment, Mark was asking Jesse questions about his farm and telling him how he’d driven through his birth town before with a heavy load, and for the first time in a long while, I felt content. And dare I say it—happy.
I could picture this becoming a tradition, and instead of scaring me, for a brief moment I allowed myself to look toward the future. Maybe even if Jesse and I only remained friends. I enjoyed his company enough to want to keep him in my life. Imagine that.
Okay, enough sappy sentiment. Back to living in the moment.
“Let’s dig in,” Mark said, lifting the plate of turkey slices he’d shaved from the bird.
“Don’t you dare start yet,” Bree replied in a chastising tone. “We need to go around the table and say what we’re thankful for.”
Mark rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion, then winked at Hailey, who giggled endearingly.
“Make fun all you want,” Bree said, “but we totally have so much to be thankful for this year.”
Mark reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles, and I knew there was an apology in there. It made me breathe out in relief.
Mark and Bree both said they were thankful for the food, new friends, and our little family unit. Hailey parroted her parents’ sentiments but included her Barbie doll as well as her new best friend, Desse.
“Do you like nail polish with spwinkles?” she asked Seth, and we all grinned in amusement.
“Of course,” he replied. “Jesse has been teaching me makeup tricks too.”
Seth thanked us for including him, and Jesse did as well. “Though I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Captain Cranky Pants,” he added, which cracked Bree up, and she high-fived him across the table.
When it was my turn, I felt inexplicably choked up. “Can I just say ditto?”
The table grew quiet, everyone waiting for me—or maybe just flummoxed by my reaction—so I huffed out a breath. “Fine. I’m grateful for my family and new friends.”
“What about boyfwiends?” Hailey asked pointedly.
“You mean friends who are boys?” I quipped.
“Desse is a fwiend who is a boy. So he’s my boyfwiend too.” It was just the levity we needed, until she added, “Unca Dame said his lips taste like candy.”
“What?” Bree asked with humored interest.
“Never mind,” I muttered, completely mortified. Jesse’s foot touched mine beneath the table, and I heard him huff out a laugh. “Can we please just eat now?”
“I’m with Dane,” Mark said, obviously hoping for a change in topic. Bree helped Hailey cut her meat, and once the side dishes were passed around, we all dug in, the room falling silent as we ate.
“OMG, everything is so amazing,” Jesse declared, then pointed his fork in my direction. “You might want to look away while I vacuum this plate of food and embarrass myself.”
“The guy can definitely eat,” Seth agreed.
“I don’t know where you put it,” Bree marveled.
“Thankfully my job requires me to dance my butt off,” he replied, and when Mark raised an eyebrow, his cheeks flushed. “Just saying.”
“And you get to eat it all again with your family,” Bree pointed out. “Right? What’s your favorite thing your mom makes for Thanksgiving dinner?”
A bit of tension crossed his features. “Her sweet-potato pie.”
A disagreement ensued about the differences between pumpkin and sweet potato, and when Jesse sat back and sighed dreamily, it stirred that same nostalgia inside me. Even all these years later, it hit me square in the gut how much I missed my mother. And Bree was the epitome of her.
When she met my gaze across the table and threw me a watery smile, it was like she could read my mind. Either that, or she was grateful her own family was intact.