Page 79 of Claiming What Is Mine

“Why not?” Hank asks.

“Uh. She’s a lovely girl. But, come on. She’s not quite your speed, you know?”

“My speed? What speed is awesome, exactly?”

I shake my head. “Maybe what I should have said is, she seems like a woman with a good head on her shoulders.”

“Okay…what’s wrong with that?” Hank glares in my direction.

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong with that. Hell, it’s great…do you really not see where I’m going here?”

Hank’s voice is low and stern. “I don’t believe I do.”

I look around the table, hoping for some back up, but no one else seems interested in wading into these waters. “I was only trying to say, I think she’s probably looking for something a little more serious than you're ready to provide. That’s all.”

Hank slams his fork onto his plate. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Henry. There’s no cursing in this house,” our mother interrupts. “I’m certain Gabriel didn’t mean to offend you.” Mom casts me a hard look as she shakes her head.

“What?” I look to Chet. “I’m not trying to knock Hank or anything. I’m just saying, he’s not a teenager anymore and I imagine women Mollie's age are less interested in carefree, loveable goofballs, and more interested in men with solid careers who are ready to settle down.”

Chet, sitting directly across from me, stares at his plate, quietly eating. Okay, I see I’m not gonna get much support from him. Christy, once again seems conflicted and is opting to stare at her plate as well. Come on girl, you need to learn to take a side if you want to make it in this family.

Meredith smiles apologetically, embarrassed to have tossed a live grenade and then thrown my body on top of it to save herself.

I look to Jack, squirming in his seat and doing everything he can not to laugh. When Hank notices, I swear, I think his head is going to explode. “What the hell is so funny?” he asks as he kicks Jack under the table.

Mom, seated at the end of the table, levels her fork at Hank. “That’s twice. No more cursing,” she warns. “Or we’ll get out the card table and make you sit there by yourself.”

The image is too much for Jack and he burst into laughter. “I can see it. I can totally see it. Hank, back at the kiddy table. Don’t worry buddy, in another year or two Logan will be big enough to join you.”

Hank scoffs. “Hey, I’m older than you, asshole.”

Mom stands. “That’s it. Henry, I warned you. Gabriel, please go get the table from the basement.”

Hank’s attention snaps to our mother. “What? Mom?” he whines.

Mom is the first to laugh, chuckling as he begs her not to follow through with her threat. But when she wags her finger at him it’s too much, and the rest of us burst into laughter at the sight of a grown man pleading with his mother to stay at the big table. It’s the perfect distraction to lighten the mood.

After everyone settles down, Jack clears his throat. “I sort of have an announcement. We just found out a couple days ago and I can’t get into any details, but it looks like I won’t be back for Christmas.”

Mom’s head falls. “What do you mean, honey?”

Jack places his hand on Mom’s. “My battery has been called up. We’ll be heading overseas. Soon.”

“How long will you be gone?” I ask.

“A year, probably. We’ll be in an active combat zone, so communicating will be spotty too.”

So much for lightening the mood.The rest of the meal is quiet, except for the sounds of forks clanking against plates. As awkward a Thanksgiving as this turned out to be, I can’t imagine how much worse it might have been if Leo had shown up.

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