Page 17 of Anything For This Love

“Good morning,” I say to both of them.

“I trust you slept well,” my grandmother replies, never taking her eyes off the skillet. A slow blush creeps over my cheeks and I thank my lucky stars she doesn’t look at me. She’d be able to guess what happened in my bedroom last night if she saw my face.

I glance at Jacob and he winces, his eyes widening fractionally. I give him a questioning look, but he just shakes his head.

“Yes, thank you. I did. I’m surprised Chloe didn’t wake me up before now.”

“She’s still sound asleep. I just checked on her about ten minutes ago,” Jacob assures me.

My grandmother plates our breakfast, adding a biscuit to each serving. After she says grace, we dig in. I smear a large spoonful of homemade apple butter onto the warm biscuit and bite into it, savoring the sweetness and spice.

“This is the best apple butter I’ve ever had. What brand is it?” Jacob asks, picking up the glass jar and inspecting it. His brow pinches, turning it side to side, searching for a label.

“Abbigail made it.” My grandmother beams with pride.

He looks at me with wide eyes. “It’s amazing. You’ll have to share your recipe with me.”

I smile triumphantly and agree to give him the recipe. A few minutes later, the sound of little feet padding across the floor distracts us from our meal. Chloe rounds the corner, stuffed bunny in hand, and runs straight for Jacob. He lifts her into his lap and returns her enthusiastic embrace. There’s nothing sweeter than watching the two of them together. My heart aches thinking of how much time he lost with her and how much he missed out on. How muchshemissed out on by not having him around. I silently vow to never let that happen again.

Jacob helps my grandmother prepare our small turkey as I look on, hoping to learn so I can one day make one for my family. It may be difficult, though, considering it still makes me gag every time the neck and giblets are pulled out of the cavity. Yuck.

Ethan shows up just as the bird is coming out of the oven. I try to clamp down my irritation with him since he’s been back in town for two days and hasn’t bothered to drop by or offer to help with dinner. It’s not like him to be so inconsiderate. Since he stopped staying with us when he comes home, we don’t see as much of him. He and his bandmates upgraded from the trailer they used to live in to a five-bedroom house they stay in when they’re back in town. He seems distracted and a little frazzled when he pulls me in for a hug, so I let it slide. He must be stressed over recording their new album.

Once the turkey is carved and thanks are given, we gather around our tiny kitchen table. Ethan and Jacob catch up like old friends, discussing work and music like they didn’t almost throw down in a hospital cafeteria a couple months ago. It’s a relief they’re getting along and seem to enjoy each other’s company.

“Will Tiffany be stopping by?” my grandmother asks. Tiff has made an appearance at our house on Thanksgiving every year since we've been old enough to drive, except for the years she spent the holiday with her dad.

“I don’t think so,” Ethan says at the same moment I reply, “Probably.”

I look at him, stunned by his answer. “How wouldyouknow?”

“I, uh, ran into her.”

“Oh. Where did you see her?”

“At the gas station.”

“Did she tell you she wasn’t coming?”

“She just acted like she wasn’t sure she’d be able to make it this year.” He shrugs, swiping another roll from the basket.

“Huh,” I grunt out my reply, brows knitting with concern. “I hope everything’s okay. I’ll have to call her later.”

Ethan helps clean up after dinner but doesn’t stick around long, claiming to have a Friendsgiving with his bandmates.

Tiff is still at her grandparents’ house when I call, but she promises to try to stop by on her way home. I’m a little hurt that she hasn’t visited yet and doesn’t seem all that concerned with seeing us today. She’s my best friend, and although we promised each other that her moving away wouldn’t change our friendship, lately I’ve felt us drifting apart.

Perhaps I’m being too sensitive and maybe a little dramatic. I can’t monopolize her time when she’s in town. She has a family of her own that she doesn't see as much now that she lives in Nashville. I’m sure they miss her just as badly as I do. Besides, she knows Jacob is back, so she may intentionally be trying to give us our space.

She texts me just after seven.

Tiff: On my way.

She knocks fifteen minutes later and lets herself inside. “I can’t stay long,” she announces after hugs and greetings are exchanged, “but I brought you some of Aunt Linda’s pecan pie.” She lifts the plastic wrapped pie dish enticingly and my mouth waters. It’s my absolute favorite and nobody makes it like Tiff’s aunt.

Tiff doesn’t stay long, but we make plans to get together the next evening and watch Christmas movies like we do every year. She’ll be passed out by eight o’clock, too tired from her mom dragging her out of bed at four a.m. for Black Friday shopping.

A couple hours later, Jacob and I are snuggled up on the couch with Chloe fast asleep in her room. I’m trying –– and failing – to ignore his proximity and the heat of his hard body mixed with his intoxicating scent. We’ve kissed a few times, but attempt to keep everything PG, considering the lecture my grandmother gave Jacob this morning while I was still asleep. He told me about it after she went to bed and my cheeks flamed red hot with every word he spoke. Apparently, she knew where he’d spent most of the night and strongly disapproved. Mortification blooms deep in my chest, causing me to wince.

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