His laugh made some of her nervousness disappear. She decided to ask the question that was on everybody’s mind. “Do you think Mom and Ryker are going to work?”
“Yes, I do. Know why?”
Emilee shook her head.
“That piece of land they both had a stake in ties them together. I know it sounds like a trivial thing, but for wolves, territory is life. Their den shelters their babies and provides a nucleus for the pack. It’s kind of funny how the land brought your mom and Ryker together. The hand of some watchful souls reaching out from beyond, maybe.”
“Ryker’s brother is really handsome.”
“He’s too old for you.”
“And too young for you.”
They both laughed. “Not my type anyway. Got that whole John Wayne thing going. I’m nobody’s little woman.”
Emilee nodded. “That’s true, but promise me you won’t buy egghead professor sperm. Don’t do that to your kid. At least include a little burly jock. Please.”
Her aunt’s brow arched in a way that used to scare Emilee. Now, she thought it was funny.
“What makes you think I’ll have a boy?”
“Mom told me about the swinging needle our gypsy grandma told you about. Mom was supposed to have three kids, two girls and a boy. And the needle only moved once for you. Counter-clock wise. A boy.”
Meg groaned. “My blabbermouth sister.”
But, Mom was too busy talking to Ryker to notice that people were talking about her. You didn’t need to be a gypsy to see they were talking love and the future and happy stuff.
Maybe I’ll get that baby sister after all.
Some day.
She’d be okay with that. She didn’t want to tell her mom, but Emilee actually liked her dad’s and Bree’s baby boy. She and Hunter had agreed to spend Christmas with Dad so they could bond with their new half-brother. Mom would be sad and lonely without them—unless Ryker was here. Maybe they’d go to Arizona to see Grandma and Grandpa, who’d flown up here for the long Thanksgiving weekend. Grandpa couldn’t wait to get back to their friends and the retired life.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. A new text.
She entered her pass code then hit the text app. A photo of the smallest, ugliest turkey she’d ever seen filled the screen. “Eiouw.”
Meg gave her a questioning look, so she showed her aunt the image then read the text from Haley. “Mom’s new bf is a vegan. We’re having tofurky. Trying not to barf. Save me some leftovers.”
Meg grimaced. “Sounds like something Serena’s folks would have served when she was growing up.”
They both looked at Serena and Austen snuggled together on the couch, oblivious to the hubbub around them. Emilee had never seen her uncle more relaxed. He didn’t even get all alpha when Ryker and Flynn Bensen showed up.
“Who’s Haley?” Meg asked.
“Another new girl. We bonded during school pictures.” Ryker didn’t know it, but he’d been instrumental in them meeting when he asked both for their help during the Spirit shoot. Haley herded people from the left, Emilee from the right. Afterward, they’d laughed about their newfound skill of “cowboying” self-absorbed teens.
Emilee typed, “LOL. Will do. G-Ma made 10 pies.”
Five…but who was counting?
“Dinner’s ready,” Grandma called. “No hats, phones, tablets or TV at the table.”
“Gotta go.”
“Me, too. Later.”
Emilee stashed her phone in her hip pocket in case she needed to take a picture or two. Maybe a selfie eating pie. Haley would be so jealous.
*
Mia looked at the table with pride. True, she’d had help. A lot of hands in a lot of pots in her kitchen, but she’d juggled the timing of all the dishes the way she ran a trial—with precision and attention to detail. And, to her profound surprise, she’d had fun, too. That change she credited to her new besties: Serena James and Bailey Jenkins-Zabrinski.
Mia glanced at her new sister-in-law, who positively glowed, her baby bump delightfully evident under the warm persimmon and crème alpaca sweater Serena’s mom had knitted for her. Serena and her parents somehow roped Austen into deep-frying a turkey. The golden bird glistened at the far end of the table surrounded by heaping bowls of organic greens, yams and side dishes she couldn’t wait to taste.
The other new additions to their table, Louise and OC Jenkins, had provided all the appetizers, which included the best smoked salmon Mia had ever tasted—OC’s contribution. Never in a million years could she have imagined this eclectic mix that, somehow, simply worked.
“Okay, everyone,” Ryker said. “Look here. If you can’t see the camera, the camera can’t see you, and I will edit you into the finished print. No promises what sort of animal, arachnid or invertebrate will represent you. Are we ready? One…” He held up the remote and walked to his place beside Mia. “Two…” He sat, hugging her close with his free arm. “Three.”
The flash was followed by two unannounced candid shots that made everyone laugh.
Ryker winked and kissed her boldly on the mouth before letting go to start passing the mashed potatoes as her father carved the twenty-pound bird on their end of the table.
As Mia looked around, her heart expanded to the breaking point with love. The past few weeks since the wedding had been challenging, filled with ups and downs, self-doubts and second-guessing, but, finally, on a starlit night, her breath crystallizing in mid-air, she’d looked at the sky and asked the only question that mattered. “Do I love him?”
The answer resonated in her mind as brilliantly as the shooting star that flashed across the night sky.
She’d texted him with trembling fingers. “Come back when you can. We have unfinished business.”
“Land business or life business?” he’d replied seconds later—almost as if he’d been waiting for her in some distant time zone, wide awake, attuned to her sleeplessness.
“Love. Life. You and me business.”
He’d called her, then. Their call lasted two hours, but when she hung up she’d known peace unlike anything she’d ever felt. Ever. She’d crawled into bed and slept nine hours. When she finally awoke, she rounded up her children to break the news. “Ryker’s coming back for Thanksgiving and he plans to stay.”
“For how long?” Hunter, the practical one, had asked.
Forever? “For long enough to decide whether or not we have what it takes to make a life together.”
“Mom,” Emilee had cried. “You and Ryker are going to be a couple? For real? OMG. It’s about time. I was afraid you blew it when he left.”
“He’s okay,” Hunter said after a few moments of thought.
She hadn’t known what to expect from her children, which made her a little sad to admit. But their acceptance inspired her to be equally honest with her brother. Austen’s response hadn’t been quite as positive.
“I’ll withhold judgment until Mr. Bensen and I actually have a chance to talk. Serena thinks he’s great. Even OC called him a keeper, but you know me, Mia. I made a mistake with Ed and I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“We both loved Edward, Austen. For different reasons. I take full responsibility for the mistakes I made in our marriage. Ed’s not a terrible person, he just wasn’t the right husband for me.”
Austen’s expression turned panicky. “And this Ryker guy is? Aren’t you rushing things?”
She crossed her arms. “Aren’t you thinking about asking Serena to marry you?”
“Maybe…okay, yes. But that’s different.”
She gave him a look she knew he’d understand.
Their standoff ended with a grin, which grew to a laugh. “How ’bout we table this discussion until after the holidays,” Mia suggested. “I invited Ryker and his brother to have Thanksgiving dinner with us. He might get a look at our group and run the other way.”
“Serena, too,” he said, giving her a hug.
But Mia knew that was a lie. Serena and Austen would announce their engagement soon. She was sure of it. After all, he was her twin, and seeing Austen and Serena canoodling at the end of the table Mia knew he was completely, madly, whole-heartedly in love for the first time in his life.
She knew the feeling.
“Are you happy?” Ryker asked softly, leaning sideways till their shoulders touched.
She felt him all the way to her toes.
“I am. Can’t you tell?” She pushed up the corners of her mouth, which actually ached from smiling so hard. “I may need Botox after today.”
He held a perfectly al dente baby purple carrot—from Serena’s mom’s Community-Supported Agriculture box, which she’d packed in her carry-on luggage—to her lips. “No Botox. Ever. I plan to document how beautifully you age for the rest of our days. Au naturel.”
Her body tingled with anticipation. He’d booked a suite at the Graff and already told his brother to be prepared to fend for himself because he and Mia were going offline. Luckily, Mom, Dad and Meg had volunteered to entertain Emilee, Hunter, Chloe and Mark all weekend so their parents could have some adult time.
Now, they just had to get through dinner, football in the backyard and the cranking of the homemade ice cream maker to top her mother’s pies. This, Mia knew, was going to be a Thanksgiving like no other.