Page 54 of Forever Wild

He stares down the hallway toward the kitchen. “Is Lila home?”

“Um, yes. Have you ever known Lila to miss a family Thanksgiving?”

“Right.” He clears his throat. “Yup. That makes sense.”

“Why are you being so weird right now? Is this about Bryn being here? You know I trust her. You don’t have to be ‘on’ today just because she’s around,” I reassure him as we walk toward the kitchen.

“Right. Of course. I’m not worried a—” He cuts off, staring at my sister as she stands at the island, helping my dad with the potatoes.

“I know. Completely ridiculous outfit to wear today. She claims she didn’t want Bryn to feel overdressed.” I roll my eyes, making my way over to Bryn, who is helping shape the bread dough into crescent shapes for the dinner rolls.

Coming up behind her, I lean my head over her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her waist.

“Did you just smell me?”

“Shhh…” I whisper into her ear. “I’m just making sure you don’t stink after that plane ride.”

She shoves me away, and I throw up my hands, a huge smile plastered on my face. “I’m trying to help, Bryn!”

“Go away, you pest.” My mom flings a dish towel at me before moving to the other side of the island and pulling JT into a hug.

Bryn watches JT, a smile that I will later have to remember to ask her about pulling at her lips.

The whirlwind that is preparing Thanksgiving dinner ramps up, JT and I setting the table and helping mash the potatoes, Bryn and Lila chatting while decorating sugar cookies for dessert, and all the while, my dad pouring generous glasses of wine for everyone.

By the time we sit down to eat hours later, we are all buzzed. My parents are each at one of the heads of the table, with Bryn and I on one side, and Lila and JT on the other.

“JT, move your fucking arm. Jesus, Bryn’s not going to be invited back if it means I have to sit next to this giant oaf. What happened to the second table we had out last year?” Lila asks.

“Just because you’re the size of a five-year-old doesn’t make me a giant, pipsqueak.”

“I’m five foot four, you baboon. The average five-year-old is like four feet tall. How you ever graduated from Cal State is truly beyond me. Do they just hand out degrees? We all know it can’t be because they give golfers special treatment like the real athletes.”

I glare at my sister across the table. “Nice. Why don’t you keep me out of your little lovers’ spat that you have going on.”

Both their faces turn bright red, but Bryn cuts in before either can yell at me for that last little jab. “Were there more people here last year if you needed two tables?”

“Yeah, where is everyone this year?” JT asks.

My mom shakes her head. “Oh, my brother Mark moved to Arizona this past winter, and my sister Karen and her kids are at her husband’s family’s place in Michigan.”

“We’re glad you’re here, though, Bryn,” my dad offers from the end of the table. “It’s great to actually have one of Jameson’s girlfriends join for a family event.” He coughs then, clearly catching the glare his wife is sending his way. “Lori, could you pass me the potatoes, please? That gravy is delicious.”

As my mom hands the dish down our side of the table, I catch Bryn glancing between Lila and JT, clearly unfazed by my dad’s comment. “What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing.” She offers me a smile before turning to my mom. “The turkey is delicious, Mrs. Walker.”

“Thank you. I’ve never been a huge turkey fan, but I feel it’s a necessary part of the Thanksgiving tradition,” my mom replies before asking, “Have you heard from your family? How are they enjoying their trip? And, remind me, you have two sisters, right?”

“Yep. Yes. I’m the youngest of three girls, which likely explains why my dad is going bald. I talked to them during my ride from the airport, and they are having a great time. My mom is in love with the little Highland cows over there, and my dad and sisters are essentially drinking their way through the country between the distilleries and pubs.”

I jump in, “B, show my mom the picture of the cow and her calf that your mom sent you. She’ll love it.”

Mom smiles sweetly, clearly pleased that I know this information even though I haven’t been in the same town as Bryn since Vegas. She takes the phone Bryn offers her, chuckling at the fuzzy momma cow and baby on the screen.

“They are adorable. I remember when Jameson convinced us to go to Scotland with him for some tournament a few years ago. Steve and I rented a car and drove up to the Highlands. It was a magical place; it almost made me believe in things like fairies and the Loch Ness monster.”

“If you go with him to Scotland this year, Bryn, you should definitely make the drive,” my dad says from the end of the table.

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