Page 143 of Tell Me It’s Right

And it would be my own damn fault because I asked for this.

I stare at my reflection for a moment, but only a moment, before shoving the door open without giving myself a chance to think about it.

“What istofurkey?” Casey asks.

“Turkey without the turkey,” Leo says as he reaches across the table to load his plate with gravy.

Casey’s nose scrunches as I pull a piece of the offending dish onto my plate. “Then what is it?”

“Mostly tofu,” I say.

His nose scrunches further.

Unsurprisingly, no one else touches the dishes made for me. That is, until Liam clears his throat, rises slightly out of his chair near the opposite end of the table, and slides a piece onto his plate too. Which, now that I’ve gotten a better look at it, is nearly identical to mine. He hasn’t taken any of the regular dishes.

I meet his eyes for the first time tonight as he sits down.

And suddenly there’s no one else at the table. There’s no one else in the room. He doesn’t smile as he holds my gaze, but the look in his eyes softens, and it does criminally unfair things to my stomach.

“Liam, Asher, you guys staying for the game?” my dad asks around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but the dynamic between Liam and his brother seems…different now. I guess Asher’s presence here in the first place is a testament to that. He’s never spent holidays with us before. It shows in the way he carries himself—smiling and laughing along with everyone else, but with a hint of discomfort in the tension in his shoulders, like he’s somewhere he doesn’t quite belong.

“Act civilized!” Mom swats Dad’s arm with the back of her hand. “We have company!”

“I want to watch!” says Casey.

“You like football, Casey?” asks Leo.

Casey nods vigorously.

Christine leans over and murmurs in my ear, “He has never once sat through more than ten minutes of a game.”

I press my lips together to hold in my laugh.

The conversation quickly devolves into compliments for Mom’s cooking, and it doesn’t take long for people to finish their plates. Or to go back for seconds, and thirds… It’s all so damn good that even I can’t help myself from piling more on my plate despite my stomach screaming at me that it can’t take any more.

Leo clears his throat and glances around the table with an uncharacteristic nervousness as he lays his hand over Keava’s on the table.

“We actually have something we want to tell you all.” He glances sideways at his wife, and she gives him a supportive nod.

My eyes widen in realization as Leo opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s fighting for the words.

“We’re having a baby,” Keava cuts in with a laugh. “I’m due in June.”

The table erupts with noise, and Mom all but breaks down in tears as she hurries to embrace Keava.

I give it a few minutes for everyone else to complete their fawning before rising from my chair to give Leo a hug.

“Good thing I’m not camping out in your basement anymore then, huh?”

“Are you kidding?” says Keava. “I would’vekilledfor the babysitting help.”

“Oh, I still have first dibs on babysitting.” I hug her next. “Congratulations.”

I slip into the kitchen as Dad starts some monologue about the first Collins grandchild, not sure why the smile I’m forcing feels so heavy. I get to work rinsing the dishes in the sink justto have something to do with my hands and try to shake off this weird feeling clinging to me.

“Here, I got it.” Liam slides in on my right and takes the stack of plates to load in the dishwasher.

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