Page 39 of For Crosby

Sasha’s face lit up. “Merry Christmas.”

“Why don’t you get me a drink,” Aunt Pat said to my dad, her voice echoing off the cathedral ceiling. “Something nice and strong.”

I glanced to Sasha who rolled her eyes. I ticked my head toward the stairs and she followed me up to my room.

I sat down on the edge of my bed, while Sasha walked around, looking at all the pictures I tucked under the crisscrossed ribbons on my photo boards. Most were old high school photos I hadn’t bothered to replace yet. But some were of Finlay and me, in our room or with Caden after his football games.

“How’s Texas?” I asked.

Sasha spun around, her wide giddy eyes saying it all. “Amazing. I’ve made so many friends.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah,” she sighed with a contentedness I wasn’t used to seeing in her.

I lifted a brow. “Any guys?”

She smiled. “Apparently, I’m a sucker for thick southern accents.”

I tossed back my head and laughed, knowing exactly what she meant. Those fuck-me drawls melted their fair share of panties on my campus, too. “Be careful. They know how much we love them so they lay them on thicker.”

She laughed, before sitting down beside me. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Is it just me or does it feel weird being home for you?”

“No, it feels weird,” I agreed, the recent encounter with Trish leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

“It’s like everyone changes.”

“And not necessarily for the better,” I added.

“Agreed.”

I smiled. “Of course you agree. Great minds and all.”

We laughed and talked more before joining my parents and Aunt Pat in the dining room a little while later. The table was filled with every food imaginable. My parents always put out a huge spread—regardless of the number of guests we entertained.

Aunt Pat dominated the conversation as usual, and more than once did I bite my lip to stop from laughing at my parents rolling their eyes at each other.

“How’s school, Sabrina?” Aunt Pat asked right as I’d bitten into my beef tenderloin.

I nodded my response as I chewed down my meat.

“We’re just waiting for final grades to be posted,” my mom answered for me. “But Sabrina’s confident she passed all her classes.”

“Just passed?” Aunt Pat asked, aghast.

“Yup. Passing works for us,” my dad said with a smile.

I smiled across the table at him and he winked back at me.

“Well, despite all the hoopla that happened on Sasha’s campus, she’s still earning straight A’s,” Aunt Pat said, taking a long draught of her glass of wine.

“Congratulations, Sasha,” my mom said.

Sasha smiled, clearly appreciating my mom’s kindness despite her own mother’s frankness.

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