Page 92 of Just One Moment

graham

Patiencewas no chore

WhenIhad her in the end

Shewas worth the wait

Todayisno different from theThanksgivingdinnersIgrew up with, but we all feel the absence of my dad on days like this.Thesurprise return ofFlorencehas helped ease the pain, however.Myfamily means everything to me; always has and always will.Thepeople around this table have been a constant in my life, butI’vebeen walking around blind.

Untilher.

Shewaltzed into my life and, in the blink of an eye, showed me what it was to be alive.Imust have done something good in a past life to have her sitting next to me, her hand resting on my thigh, and a smile on her face that somehow,Iput there.

Ican’t lose her.

Sincethe moment this stopped being fake,Ihaven’t allowed myself to question this.Thetemptation to askWhyme? still lingers in the corner of my mind.It’shard to believethat someone as incredible as her could be happy with someone like me, butI’veconvinced myself there are no risks to weigh or probabilities to determine the outcome of our relationship.

Actually, there is one probability.

I’mcertainIlove her.

“LittleSadler,”Dexcalls across the table. “Howlong are you in town for?”

Florenceis sharing a large portion of pumpkin pie withLottie, who is perched on her knee.Thefork freezes halfway to her mouth, and she appears thrown by the question. “Umm, about that.Iwanted to come home to helpMomout since the accident and all my friends have continued on toMexicobefore heading home for the holidays.Itseems like a good time to take a break from the hostel lifestyle.Plus, my savings didn’t last as long asIexpected.”

“Oh, sweetheart, why didn’t you call?” my mom asks.

Sheshrugs and keeps her eyes trained on her plate. “It’sfine.Thingsjust didn’t go according to plan…”There’san avoidance in her tone, but beforeIcan question her,Patricktaps a fork against his glass and stands.

“Beforesome of you get too drunk or pass out on the sofa in a food coma,Ijust wanted to say a little something.Youknow, in the spirit of being thankful and all that jazz.Thispast year has been a tough one.”Hishand rests on the back ofJohanna’sneck as she looks up at him lovingly. “Iknow things are still uncertain with the new owner, butI, for one, am very thankful for each and every one of you sitting at this table.Toold friends”—he looks around, down atJo, and then turns toQuinn—“and new ones.”

Weall raise a glass in cheers, then eat until there’s nothing left.

Anhour later,QuinnandIare cozied up on the swinging bench in my mom’s yard, wrapped up in a blanket as the otherscrowd around the small fire pit to roast marshmallows.She’sslotted between my legs, her back to my front.

“Anotherday for the record books.”Sheweaves her fingers through mine. “Thankyou for today.Forhelping me forget what this day reminds me of.Ididn’t know it could be like this.”

“Whatcould?”

“Havinga family that loves you unconditionally.”

Myeyes close at her words.Howanyone could not loveQuinnis unfathomable. “It’shard to believe you haven’t been coming to family dinners for years.Youfit in here.”Youfit in with me.

Sheturns in my hold and looks up at me with her chin balanced on my chest. “Today,I’mthankful for you.”

“AndI’mthankful for you; today and every day.”Thetip of my finger traces over the apple of her cheek, rosy from the bitterNovemberair. “Whydon’t you go and join everyone around the fire?I’llgrab you another glass of cider.”

Beforeshe can respond,Boothshouts my name. “Yourphone won’t stop buzzing over here.”

Wewalk toward my family, andItake my phone from his outstretched hand, findingMartinWillis’sname flashing on the screen. “Martin,”Igreet. “Everythingokay?”

“Thankgod.”Hesighs tiredly. “I’vebeen trying to callQuinnfor the last half hour.Areyou with her?”

“She’sright here.What’sup?”Quinnlooks up at me with concern.Ishake my head and mouth,Mr.Willisto reassure her.

“Sorryto do this today.Therewas a woman banging on the bakery door and screamingQuinn’sname.”Myblood chills. “Thetenant upstairs called me, but by the timeIgot here, things escalated.Wehad no choice but to call the cops.”

“Whatdid she do?”Iask through clenched teeth.

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