“I swear! She never gave me the recipes!” I put my hands up in the air. Gram was an amazing cook, but she wasn’t one to share her recipes. Whenever anyone asked if she would share a recipe, she would just look at me and wink like we had some sort of secret. For years, my family has been convinced that I am the keeper of these recipes. I am not.

Dad breaks the silence. “I started going through some of Gram’s items from the nursing home. I have a box of some of her things that she wanted you to have.”

“What’s in it?” I ask.

“I didn’t look. She had boxes labeled for every grandchild.”

“Wow, sounds like she was prepared.”

“I think she knew her time was coming,” Dad says, looking down at his plate.

“Did you look in your box, Ems?”

“I’m not ready yet.” Emma shakes her head. I don’t think I’m ready either, but I’ll take the box off my parents’ hands and open it when I am.

Gram lived on her own until her last year of life. She had a stroke that changed the course of everything. Her mind was as sharp as a tack up until the last few weeks, but her body became very weak. We couldn’t take care of her full-time, so she went into a nursing home. My family took her out a lot and she even stayed at my parents’ place on the weekends when someone was around to keep an eye on her.

My family doesn’t know, but I used to make the hour-long drive home every Wednesday for weekly dates. I’d bust her out of the nursing home and take her to lunch. That was our little secret, not the recipes.

“So, what does Aly do for a living?” Mom changes the subject. The mood lightens and I’m then quizzed on anything and everything that is Alyssa Winters for the rest of the night.

I may not enjoy answering all of their questions, but at least it’s on my favorite topic.

39

Aly

“I think this is the first time I’ve actually been hungry after a Thanksgiving dinner,” I say to Michelle as I grab some chips out of my luggage. I’ve had some amazing Thanksgivings and some disastrous ones. My favorite Thanksgiving would be the first one I ever spent with the Parkers. Before they arrived, I was complacent about eating a bowl of mac and cheese while my parents were off vacationing on some tropical island.

Michelle had warned me ahead of time to pack some food because Thanksgiving at the Buchanans is more for show than anything else. I’m glad I took her seriously.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Michelle winces and bites into a cereal bar. “We can make it up when we get home.”

We are currently sitting in what was once Michelle’s old bedroom, although there is no evidence of a child or teenagerever living in this place. Michelle told me that as soon as she and her siblings moved out of the house, her parents quickly redecorated their rooms. Once I left for college, I never came back home. I’m sure my parents did the same thing to my childhood bedroom as well.

“Oh, don’t bother! Now, I won’t have to worry about fitting into my bathing suit when we get back! I am worried about you, though. Things were tense at dinner. How are you feeling?” Just as I suspected, Michelle and I grew up in opposite worlds. Both of our parents sought out money and prestige. But where my parents would rather pretend I didn’t exist, her parents mapped out every detail of her life and are still trying to.

“As good as I can be when I’m back home.” She gives a sad smile. “Honestly, this was probably the best visit back home I’ve ever had and I know it’s because I had my emotional support person with me. I’m sorry I had to take you away from Jax, though.”

“Well, if my presence helped you get through spending time with your family, then this was all worth it, and donotbe sorry! I mean, yeah, I miss Jax, but I was kind of happy that I had a solid excuse not to spend Thanksgiving with him.”

Michelle whips her head up from her focus on her cereal bar. “You didn’t want to spend Thanksgiving with him? Is everything okay?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I sigh. “It’s just that, things are moving so fast and everything’s been wonderful. It scares me with how well things are going. Plus, this would’ve required me to meet his parents and sister. I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Aw, hon, I’m sure they would love you! Hell! My parents loved you and they hate everyone!”

“Yeah, but Jax has never been in a relationship like this. I know his family was beginning to think that he would be alone for the rest of his life. That’s a lot of pressure. Plus, there’ssomething else that keeps nagging me, and I don’t know what to do.”

“What’s wrong?” Michelle cocks her head to the side.

“Remember the conversation we had before I moved here? About how I was trying to keep a low profile because of my ex?” I proceed to tell Michelle about how I was able to change my name at work and how out of all the last names in the world, I unknowingly picked Jax’s. I tell her how I planned to tell Jax, but then he told me how his ex used his last name. I leave out the fact that they were married and just that they were exes.

“Wow! That’s…wow!” Michelle sits up and leans forward, deep in thought.

“You should’ve seen him when he got that mail addressed to her. He was shaking with anger. How could I have told him after that?”

“Yeah, that’s a tough one.” Michelle sucks on her lower lip. “I don’t know what I would’ve done in that situation. On the one hand, you’ve done nothing wrong, but on the other hand, you can trigger some rough memories again.”