Page 34 of Going All In

11

HOLLY

Being squished between Addison and Judy is more comfortable than I would have imagined, both physically and emotionally.

Addie isn’t much taller than me, and she’s the kind of thin that’s delicate rather than angular. Judy’s body is soft and warm, and every time I brush against her it’s like being wrapped in a hug. And the couch is worn and lived-in, the kind that sucks you in when you sit.

But it’s their friendly demeanor that has really set me at ease. I don’t let people in easily, but Addison and Judy are doing a solid job at breaking down my walls.

The holiday decorations might be missing, and I’m sure my dad had something to do with that, but the feeling here is one of warmth, love, and family. It’s the feeling I remember from holidays with my mom.

It’s almost enough to make me forget why I need an acceptable date for this wedding in the first place.

We’ve been thumbing through photo albums of Maddox for almost half an hour now. The man himself disappeared about five minutes ago, but seeing these photos of him as a young boy is making me see him in a whole new light.

It’s strange to realize that people had an entirely different life before you met them. He wasn’t always this confident, self-assured guy who wins poker games for a living. He had the same gawky phase I did, although God knows I never used as much hair gel as he did.

Addison is as much fun as Maddox told me. I’m still a little thrown off by the idea of having a sister, let alone two of them—three if you count a sister-in-law, Josie’s wife—but the idea is growing on me.

The brother, not so much.

Judy looks at her watch. “Oh, goodness, the turkey!” She shoves the photo albums toward Addie and me and shoots up from her seat.

Addison giggles as her mother scurries out of the room. “Every year. She gets involved in things, forgets to baste the turkey, and apologizes up and down about how it’s going to be dry and ruined. And every year it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Do you think she needs help in there?”

Addison waves her hand in dismissal. “She’s got it handled. Josie likes to insert herself into the cooking process and Mom gets flustered, and they end up fighting, even though I have a suspicion that Josie is the one who bastes the turkey when Mom forgets. It’s the same every year, Thanksgiving and Christmas. Honestly, Josie and Chris have been going to Chris’s parents’ place the last few Thanksgivings to keep the peace. I’m glad they decided to come here this year, bickering aside.”

Maddox hadn’t told me much about his sister Josie, so I’ve had to piece some things together. All I knew was that she lived in Boston, along with her wife, Chris.

Addison whispered to me that the two of them have been going through fertility treatments, trying to get Josie pregnant, and that’s why—Addie’s words, not mine—Josie is being bitchy. Addie and Josie seem like polar opposites to me. It’s not just their looks, although that’s part of it, with Addie’s coppery red hair and pale skin a sharp contrast to Josie’s tan skin and black hair. It’s their entire personalities.

I mull over the information about Josie and her fertility treatments as I turn the page in the photo album, flipping to a picture of three kids and two adults in front of a Christmas tree.

I look closer and pick out the three Anderson children next to Judy and a man with a kind face that must have been their dad. There seem to be a bunch of photos from certain times, then it seems to jump to a year later, with nothing in between. That’s three kids for you, I guess. You take pictures when you can remember.

As an only child, I had the nonstop attention of both my parents all the time. There are probably two million pictures of me buried in photo albums in the house.

Before I can ask, Addison takes the album from my lap. “I barely remember this. It was Christmas. I think I was maybe four. Maddox was probably ten or eleven, and Josie would have been about twelve. The two of them were always close because they were so close in age. I always looked up to them so much.” She shrugs her shoulders, then looks up at me. “I think that’s why I’m so excited for Mom to marry your dad. I’ve always wanted a sister my own age, and even though it’s not like we’re all moving in together as a stepfamily, it’s kind of…”

She trails off, but I know what she means. I smile gently. “I’ve always wanted siblings. It was kind of lonely with just me and my parents.”

Addie reaches out and gives me a side hug as raised voices from the kitchen start to filter into the family room, along with the mouth-watering smell of turkey. “Let’s go break up this fight, eh sis?”

* * *

I brought a bottle of wine to share, but by the time we start putting out appetizers, it’s long gone, along with two bottles of chardonnay, which Judy claims were somehow involved in the cooking of the turkey and thus “don’t count” toward the total wine consumption.

I’m just glad we took the train, because no one is going to be in a state to drive after this.

The dinner is just as delicious as Maddox promised. Whatever Judy did to the turkey with that wine had to be magical, because it’s juicy and delicious.

“Butter,” she whispers to me at one point. “That’s the secret. Lots and lots of butter.”

Or maybe it was the turkey basting fairy, also known as Josie.

I let my gaze travel around the table, taking everything in. Judy is at the head of the table to my left, confident in the position she’s assumed as the matriarch of this group. My dad is sitting across from her, way down at the other end. On my side of the table, Maddox and Cam are helping themselves to more and more food, while the girls across from us are politely wiping their mouths.

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