Page 31 of A Very Grumpy Thanksgiving

I carry our three-year-old son,Finn, on one hip as I balance a casserole dish with my other hand. Finn is busy babbling about the dinosaurs he saw in his picture book this morning, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m breaking a sweat trying not to drop him or the sweet potato casserole I promised Saffron’s sisters I’d bring.

“Daddy, I’m a T-Rex!” Finn announces proudly, lifting his arms and giving a tiny, ferocious roar.

“Yeah, buddy. You’re the scariest one,” I reply, grinning despite the precarious juggling act I’m managing.

Behind me, Saffron is closing the car door, holding our six-month-old daughter, Ellie, against her chest. Ellie’s in that perfect stage where she’s still soft and sleepy most of the time, and her big green eyes—the same ones Saffron has—blink up at me with curiosity.

“Need help?” Saffron asks, arching a brow as I readjust Finn for the third time.

“I’ve got it,” I lie.

Saffron laughs softly, knowing better. She steps closer, brushing her shoulder against mine as she smiles. Even after all these years, she still manages to steal my breath every time she looks at me like that, like I’m the only person in the room.

“Ready for the chaos?” she teases, giving me a knowing grin.

“Is anyone ever really ready for Baker-family chaos?” I shoot back, pressing a quick kiss to her temple.

She snickers, and together, we head up the walkway to Olive’s house. The front door is already cracked open, and we can hear the laughter and noise pouring out from inside.

The moment we step through the door, the usual Thanksgiving madness unfolds. Olive is directing traffic, shouting instructions about platters and pies from the kitchen. Ginger and Ryder are already in the thick of a lively debate with Townes and Mira about something to do with the parade floats on TV, and Kip is chasing his twin daughters around the living room, narrowly avoiding disaster as they shriek with laughter.

“Uncle Nolan!” one of them yells the second she spots me.

Before I know it, Finn’s squirming out of my grip, eager to join the chaos. He takes off toward the twins without a second glance back, roaring like a dinosaur the whole way.

“Bye, buddy,” I call after him, though he’s already gone, wrapped up in the whirlwind of his cousins.

Olive swoops in before we can catch a breath. “Finally! The dream team is here.” She beams at Saffron and me, then takes the casserole dish from my hand. “You two are late, by the way.”

“Blame the kids,” I say, nodding toward Finn, who’s now wrestling on the floor with Kip’s girls.

“Excuses, excuses.” Olive grins and winks at Saffron. “Glad you survived the morning, though. I know what it’s like.”

Saffron snorts, adjusting Ellie in her arms. “Barely. But hey, we’re here.”

We settle in quickly, the flow of conversation and noise wrapping around us like a familiar, chaotic blanket. Xavier waves me over to where he’s stationed with Fisher and Huxley, beers in hand, already immersed in the sacred Thanksgiving tradition of sports talk. I grab a drink and join them, feeling more relaxed than I did years ago at my first Baker Thanksgiving.

It’s not just familiarity—it’s the comfort that comes with knowing you belong. This group, with all their quirks and teasing, is my family now. And Saffron? She’s everything good in my life wrapped up in one perfect, chaotic package.

At some point, I catch sight of her across the room, Ellie now asleep against her shoulder. Saffron’s laughing at something Olive said, her face lighting up in that way I can never get enough of.

We’ve had our fair share of hard days, raising two kids isn’t exactly a walk in the park, but moments like this remind me how lucky I am. Watching her, surrounded by the people who love her, I feel like the luckiest man alive.

We moved into the house after I had finished fixing it up and I sold my old one. We got married there at the house, in a small ceremony in the backyard with just our friends and families there in attendance.

I started my own remodeling business a few years ago, and it’s really taken off. I’ve hired a few guys to work for me and that gives me ample time to spend with my family or helping Saffron out at the bookstore. I even volunteer as the classroom monitor at the kid’s preschool every Monday.

Since our wedding, we’ve taken turns switching between who’s family we spend holidays with. It doesn’t make theholidays any less chaotic, but Saffron says that it’s the only fair way to split things up.

She catches me staring and gives me a soft, knowing smile. I smile back, my heart feeling so full I can hardly stand it.

“Time to eat!” Olive calls, and I tear my gaze away from my wife to find my Finn.

Dinner is, predictably, a mess in the best way. Kip’s twins start an impromptu food fight over the mashed potatoes, which Finn is all too eager to join. Saffron scolds him, but I can see the smile she’s trying to hide.

“Boys,” she mutters, shaking her head. “They get it from you, you know.”

“Not sure what you mean.” I grin, wiping mashed potatoes off Finn’s nose and earning a giggle from him.

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