Page 102 of The Very First Night

I look at Larry, whom Tanner informed me has been spending significantly more time assisting his wife in the kitchen. Apparently, this change was brought about by a heated conversation between them after I left last year. It seems that Larry, much like his son, is acutely attuned to Elaine’s needs and will go to great lengths to keep her content, even if it means confronting his own blind spots.

I smile at the gentle clinking of pots and pans as Larry moves around the kitchen, carefully assisting his wife with precision and care. A sweet fragrance wafts through the air, a blend of spices and herbs that add depth to the already mouth-watering scents emanating from the oven. It is clear that Larry’s dedication to his wife’s happiness extends far beyond their verbal exchanges.

Tanner sets the last dish down on the table in the dining room, an array of savory smells filling the air. The scent of roasted turkey—perfectly golden and crisp on the outside yet tender and juicy on the inside—mingles with the rich scent of melted butter cascading over the mashed potatoes.

My stomach grumbles in anticipation as I take in the spread, thankful I get the opportunity to enjoy a traditional family Thanksgiving dinner for the second year in a row, even if it is Tanner’s family. My mouth waters as I imagine sinking my teeth into each delectable dish and savoring every bite.

It isn’t until everyone is seated with their plates stacked high that anyone speaks.

“So, Kat,” Larry begins. “Tanner tells me that you’ve photographed a few weddings this year already. It’s important to build up those connections now for after graduation. Smart move.”

I try but fail to hide the blush that creeps over my cheeks. “It really isn’t a big deal; they were both coworkers of my mom.”

“Don’t be silly—it doesn’t matter how you get clients. Using your network isn’t just smart; it’s necessary in business. Speaking of, do you have a portfolio? Vern from accounting’s daughter is getting married next fall and I believe she is still looking for a photographer. I could pass along your information. Do you have a website?”

Despite the overwhelming nature of his questions, I still find myself completely consumed with pride at his support. I haven’t even thought about setting up a website—I wouldn’t know where to begin. School has taught me the legality of everything, but not so much the practice of setting things up.

“We’re working on getting her website live over winter break,” Tanner responds before shoving a piece of dark meat into his mouth, followed by a euphoric groan. “Mom, you really outdid yourself this year. This is fantastic.”

Elaine beams at her son’s compliment before turning to her husband. “I would like to take credit, but the turkey was actually your father this year.”

As if she just told him that the gravy was made with chicken feed, all three of their sons drop their forks and display nearly identical slack-jawed expressions.

“Dad…doesn’t cook,” Theo explains when he sees my confusion. “I thought he was just helping you move it and get it out of the oven, Mom.”

Thomas swats his arm. “You’re not supposed to say that out loud, idiot,” he whispers loudly before turning to their father. “But Theo is right—since when can you cook?”

Larry flushes. “I had a lot of help from your mother. I was basically just the muscle.”

This answer seems to placate the boys, who begin shoveling food into their mouths once more, barely pausing to chew between bites. The only break in their ravenous feasting occurs when Theo lets out a loud burp, causing both Tanner and Thomas to burst into laughter.

“Pigs,” Elaine chuckles under her breath, and I laugh too.

FIFTY

KAT

Leaving the warmth and comfort of Thanksgiving dinner, Tanner and I step out onto the porch and are immediately hit by a gust of frigid November air. I hurry to the car, but stop at the door and instinctively bury my face into Tanner’s thick wool coat, grateful for its warmth. He pulls me closer, wrapping me up in his arms and shielding me from the harsh cold.

“Why didn’t you bring a coat again?” he chuckles against the shell of my ear, the warm breath a welcome comfort.

“You really want to rehash this right now?” I laugh. Earlier, I adamantly insisted that it wasn’t that cold outside and my only outerwear option would clash with my outfit. He had rolled his eyes and shook his head, but thankfully didn’t push the issue any further. I knew he thought it was silly, but he let me make my own mistakes.

But my choice was indeed a colossal mistake.

“You ready for me to get you back home?” Tanner whispers.

My stomach twists at the realization that today is coming to an end and I won’t see Tanner until Sunday evening when we head back to school. Not bringing my car home was a questionable choice, but when he offered to carpool, I couldn’t resist spending a few extra hours alone with him.

Does that make me entirely pathetic? Probably. However, recently I’ve stopped caring if I look needy or pathetic when it comes to Tanner, as foreign as it feels.

I nod up at him before he reaches to open the passenger-side door. “Milady,” he says with a cheeky grin.

I can’t help but smile and play along. As he takes my hand to help me into the car, I respond teasingly, “Milord.”

We both laugh as we settle into our seats and buckle up for the fifteen-minute drive to my mom’s house.

As we’re pulling away from the house, my eyes lock on the brand-new garage door attached to their house. I laugh at the memory of Tanner telling the story of Theo’s mistake, a bit thankful that it didn’t come up over dinner and turn into a point of contention.

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