Page 24 of Merry with a Single Dad

Chapter Nine

Emily

Eleven different voices boomed in stereo sound throughout Chris’s kitchen and living room.

Our plan of having a quiet little gathering quickly morphed into one full of friends and family.

Chris’s parents and sister arrived two days ago. They were staying with us until Sunday.

Hudson was full of extra kid energy at having his grandparents and aunt visit. It was two full nights of excitement as he filled them in on his new friends, the new tricks Luke had learned, and Gigi becoming a mom.

Now that I could actually laugh about it—thanks in part to Celine’s positive reaction to the news—the rendition of finding out about Gigi and Luke’s surprise entanglement was pretty damn funny.

“Cassie told us what happened, but Chris has quite the way with storytelling,” Ken said, handing Kathy a fresh glass of wine. Ken and Kathy, Cassie’s parents, had been more than happy to accept the invitation to join us for Thanksgiving dinner.

“It’s so good to see you so happy,” Kathy said, hugging me again. She slipped her hand in Ken’s as they returned to where Chris, his parents, and Savannah were seated in the living room.

According to my best friend, her parents weren’t just excited to celebrate my first holiday-hosting event. They were even more thrilled to meet Chris and Hudson. As long as I’d known them, they’d never met anyone I dated—because no one was ever special enough to introduce them to.

Ken and Kathy were the parents I never had. I smiled at the memory of my grandmother, wondering if, somehow, she had something to do with my meeting Cassie and, by proxy, her parents. Ken had the same patience my grandma did; Kathy had the same warmth and compassion.

Mike, the turkey guy and Chris’s co-worker at the bank, howled with laughter at something Savannah said.

Although I’d only met him a few hours ago, Mike was the kind of guy you immediately felt like you’d known your whole life. His son, Elijah, was cute as a button, too, especially with his Harry Potter-esque glasses.

When Chris told me how Mike broke out in a full-blown sweat at work last Friday when Mike started talking about the stress of cooking Thanksgiving dinner by himself for the first time since his divorce, I agreed it would be a nice gesture to invite them over. Also, according to the master storyteller, Chris thought it would be the perfect solution to our forty pounds of turkey.

Also, on the plus side, Hudson now had a friend his age to hang out with. As much as he loved his grandparents and aunt, Chris knew he’d get bored from adult conversation. Our nervousness at them never having met quickly subsided when it became apparent that Elijah was as much of a Star Wars fan as Hudson.

“They’re two peas in a pod, aren’t they,” Mike said, joining us in the kitchen.

“Totally,” I said. “Between the dogs and the toys, I think they’ll stay busy for hours.”

“So cute,” Cassie said.

“Can I do anything?” Mike asked.

“No, I think we’re all good.” I picked up a stack of printed recipes and started fanning myself.

“Here,” Cassie said, filling a glass with crisp white wine.

“Thanks.” I took a large sip, wrinkling my nose as I choked it down.

“What’s wrong?” Cassie asked.

“It doesn’t taste right.”

Taking a tentative sip and expecting the worst, Cassie shrugged. “Tastes fine to me.”

I took it back from her, took another taste, and shoved it back her way. “Nope. My taste buds must be off still from being sick.” Oddly enough though, the savory scents of rosemary, turkey, and the various casseroles made my mouth water.

“Can you make me a cranberry vodka, Cass? Light on the vodka!” I begged. “The last thing I need to happen is to burn or cut myself.”

“Good thinking,” she said with a smile.

“Thanks.”

“I appreciate you inviting us,” Mike said.

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