Page 59 of A Taste of Chardonnay

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He took a sip of whiskey and slowly placed his glass down. “I’d tell you don’t hurt her, but I’m more concerned she’ll hurt you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Are you sure? It’s Char we’re talking about.”

“She stomped on my heart when I was seventeen. There’s not much more damage she can do.”

“Seventeen? What the hell happened then?”

All he knew was one day I went from joking around with Char to taking jabs at her. I was too ashamed to tell him the truth. I’d already felt like a loser for getting kicked out of the old man’s home and needing a place to crash while I figured my shit out. I didn’t need him to know his own sister thought his best friend was nothing more than trash. If he thought that, maybe he wouldn’t have let me stay in the same house as her.

Even now I knew that would never have happened. Franc knew me better than anyone. He still did. We had a mutual respect for each other, and he would have told Chardonnay to get over herself and that she was wrong in her assumption. But I didn’t need him defending me. Not when I had agreed with her.

The door opened, and Laurent, who was fresh from his honeymoon with a tan and a smile, stepped inside. He looked between us, and his eyebrows rose. “What’d I miss?” Jack greeted him, and Laurent bent to give him some ear scratches.

“Brady and Char are fucking.”

“What?” Laurent exclaimed. His eyes widened, lips parted, but he stood there, hand poised above Jack, who was eagerly waiting for him to continue his ear scratches. “Did I step into a portal when I came back into town?” he finally asked, scratching Jack a few more times before straightening. “You two hate each other.”

“We did,” I said.

Franc took a sip of his whiskey and motioned his glass toward me. “Brady was just about to tell us how the whole war with Char started.”

“Pour me a glass,” Laurent said, plopping his ass onto a stool. I grabbed a glass and poured him and myself. Jack joined me behind the bar and flopped at my feet. I grabbed a treat from the jar and tossed it to him.

“We’re ready,” Franc said.

“Turns out it was one fucking misunderstanding.”

“What?” Franc said. “All that animosity over a misunderstanding?” He didn’t sound convinced.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Laurent said.

So I told them about that day in the hallway, and as I told the story, I felt like a total jackass. If I would have confronted Char, asked her why the hell she said that, things could have been different. I couldn’t live in the past, though. It was over.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Laurent said.

“You are both fucking idiots.” Franc took a swig from his glass. “And this all happened the same day Ron kicked you out?”

“Seems fitting that now Ron’s back in my life Chardonnay is, too.”

“Weird how it worked out that way,” Laurent agreed.

Franc held up his glass. “Then I wish you two the best.”

Laurent raised his glass. “Me too.”

“That’s it?” I asked, wondering where the warnings were from Laurent. He was the protective older brother. I was sure he’d have something to say. A threat against my life. A swing at my face. Something. Anything.

Laurent laughed. “She’s your problem now.”

The savory scent of rosemary, thyme, and butter mixed with citrus and cranberry. Mom and Dad laughed about something in the kitchen. Nero, Franc, and Laurent yelled at the game on TV. Rose and Wyatt chased each other around the living room with Nerf guns they stole from Gio. Lainey and Sherry laughed about something at the kitchen island. Rhone and Sutton danced to the radio while Phoebe and Quinn arranged the dining room table.

I stood back before the chaos fully ensued and took it all in. Thanksgiving had always been one of my favorite holidays. From the food to the chaos of everyone being under one roof, to the football game on in the background, and just the overall warmth of the day. I took out my cellphone where I had my to-do checklist.

Many of the items had already been checked off.

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