Page 20 of Getting Lucky

“It comes in different colors?”

Her elder sister had to be the most literal person on Earth, God love her. Maisie had been a vegetarian since she was ten—when she realized where the chicken on her plate had come from—and Mary still worried about her protein intake.

“On that note,” Maisie said. “I have to go get ready. We’re supposed to be over there at twelve, and I still have to make something.”

“What are you making?” Mary asked.

“Mom’s corn casserole, of course,” Maisie said. Because it was what she made every year, for every potluck Thanksgiving.

A flash of something like sadness crossed her older sister’s face. She opened her mouth to say something, but Molly interrupted.

“Wear something sexy!” she shouted, as if she needed to speak loudly to be heard through the internet connection. Given that she was the youngest of them, she really should know better.

“How about pants with an expandable waistline and a shirt from the shelter?” she asked, raising her brow. “Sexy enough for you?”

“Hubba hubba, ding-dong,” Molly teased.

They exchanged their goodbyes and hung up. Aidan’s “Happy Thankthgiving, Aunt Maithie” almost made her cry—he had a bit of a lisp, and even though her sister had him in speech therapy, she secretly thought it was adorable.

Einstein looked up at Maisie and whimpered. Chaco sat beside him, wagging her tail.

“Yeah, I know,” she said in an undertone. “I miss them too. And I wish I could bring you guys with me.” Einstein had taken an immediate dislike to Tyrion, Adalia’s dog, when she’d briefly brought him home as a foster. Chaco would have been fine—she liked everyone—but it felt unconscionable to leave Ein alone, even if he didn’tknowit was Thanksgiving. Jack had been right. The dogs did better together.

“You’ll get plenty of turkey.” The other dogs at the shelter would get some later this evening. Dottie always made enough for them, and she’d promised to bring over a Tupperware. The shelter was closed for the day, but they were never truly closed. Even if no one was on full-time duty, they still had someone come by to check on the dogs every few hours. Thankfully, Maisie had a couple of very diligent full-time employees, plus a volunteer staff that generously donated their time.

Ein perked up at the mention of turkey, then followed her down to the kitchen while she cooked. She hummed to herself, startling when she realized what she was humming: “Dream a Little Dream of Me” by the Mamas and the Papas.

* * *

Although it pissed her off that she cared, Maisie had spent a little longer on her outfit than usual, ending up in a green blouse—Jack had said the color made her eyes pop—a pair of black slacks and a knitted cardigan. But she’d gotten a call from the on-duty volunteer on the way to Adalia’s house, and she’d needed to stop by the shelter to give one of their anxious strays his meds. (The volunteer had been worried about getting bitten, which probably wouldn’t have happened with that particular dog, but at the end of the day, they were volunteers.) So now her pants were covered in fluffy white hair (amateur mistake), and she was half an hour late.

The driveway was clogged with cars, so she parked a little ways down the block, did a half-hearted job of wiping the dog hair off with the roller she kept in her car, and grabbed her casserole dish.

She was somewhat tempted to change her mind now, walking up to the house, hearing the people bustling about and talking in the back yard. But she was Maisie “Red” O’Shea, and she wasn’t about to wimp away from a little awkwardness.

Besides, she didn’t need River and Finn searching all over town for her, singing the bounty hunter theme song they’d come up with while tipsy on margaritas.

It seemed like most of the action was in the back yard, but she headed for the front of the house, figuring she’d leave her dish in the kitchen or wherever the food was being prepared. And while she wasn’t exactly a gourmet chef, she figured she should at least offer her assistance to whomever was in the kitchen.

She knocked, steeling herself for the possibility that Jack might answer. And okay, maybe she actually hoped it would be Jack…and that he’d be happy to see her.

But instead a young girl she’d never seen before opened the door, a look of skeptical boredom on her face. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and eyes as dark as her brother’s—because this was surely Iris.

“They invitedmorepeople?” she scoffed. “Where are they going to find room for everyone?”

It was an obvious challenge, and Maisie knew better than to take it sitting down. She’d basically ushered her little sister Molly through her last year of high school, and Molly was nothing like Mary. Their big sister would have had a conniption fit—or several—if she’d known about some of what had gone down, but she’d been away at law school. (Maisie had refused to let her drop out.)

“Maybe we’ll put out a kid’s table,” Maisie suggested, raising her brows. “Should solve the problem.”

Amusement flickered in the girl’s eyes, there and then gone, and she settled on an offended look.

“Who are you, anyway? One of Dottie’s weird friends?”

“Dottie and some of the others,” she said. “I’m Maisie, and I’ll tell you right now, if weird people offend you, you’re in for it today.”

Iris stepped back with a beleaguered sigh, dropped a sullen “You said it, not me,” and Maisie brushed past her.

She took a quick glance around the front room. River and Georgie sat on one of the couches, sides pressed together, but she barely had time to analyze whether that bothered her before Adalia’s big husky barreled into her. The corn casserole went flying, and the dish—her mother’s dish—cracked in two when it hit the hardwood floor.

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