Page 29 of Finding the Pieces

Everyone is busy with their Ellie-assigned task, milling around the living room and kitchen.

Abby, Bec, and Ellie start pulling tree ornaments out of their protective packaging. Luca reaches across Ellie’s chest trying to get his hands on the fragile bulbs.

“On second thought, maybe we only put durable ornaments on the bottom of the tree and a few fragile favorites near the top,” Ellie says. Luca starts to fuss, frustrated his mom won’t let him play with a glass snowman.

“You got a point there. Here, do you need a minute?” Abby asks, offering her arms to take Luca, which Ellie gratefully takes her up on, freeing both of her hands to grab several large, soft bows made of gold ribbon and place them along the base of the Christmas tree.

Those are about to become Luca’s favorite toys. Should take about ten minutes before the bottom of the tree is bare and those are thrown to all different corners of the room.

Carissa, Dee, and Jake are at the kitchen table, arranging nine ceramic reindeer on a snowflake table runner.

Aiden joins Chris, and together they place small figurines of cottages, gazebos, snowmen, and fake snow along the mantel.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Dylan calls as he enters the room from the front hallway, a bottle of wine and six-pack in hand.

“Ugh, gross,” Dee says with a sigh.

“Good to see you, too, Deanna,” Dylan says, shaking the snow from his shaggy blond hair as he shoots a smirk her way.

“The displeasure is mine, per usual. Please tell me we can kick these guys out so we can finally talk about the holiday novella,” Dee begs the girls.

“Probably not a bad time for a break. Dom, can you order the pizza before we split?” Ellie asks me.

The guys and I have plans to catch the University of Columbus football game while the girls have their book club tonight. Obviously, Luca is joining the boys because my wife likes her books spicy, and therefore very not-child-friendly conversations are bound to take place.

You won’t find me complaining. I owe a lot of memorable nights to those books.

***

“Damn, I need to join book club,” Chris says as he exits the kitchen, eyes wide. “Babe, you would not believe the shit I just heard. I need a minute to process.”

“You don’t need them. You’ve got us. We’ll start our own book club and it’ll be a thousand times better than theirs,” Dylan says, a bitter edge to his tone.

“That reminds me. What’s going on with you and Dee? You two have never been at each other’s throats like this. It’s always seemed like good fun before, but now…” Jake’s voice drifts off, waiting for Dylan to fill us in.

“Trust me, there’s nothing more going on. Dee just…she’s always got to…” Dylan’s voice fades as he shoves his fingers through his hair.

“Uh-huh, sounds like a whole lot of nothing to me. Remind me to say I told you so when thatnothingmagically turns intosomethingthat pops out ofnowhereand you finally admit you need our help. Don’t pull an Aiden and wait years to do it,” Jake says with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

“Hey, I got there eventually,” Aiden says around a mouthful of pizza.

“Yeah, and we’re still waiting for our thank-you card,” Chris says.

“What? The Aviator’s tickets and gear isn’t enough?”

“I just want to hear the wordsyou were right. It’ll be the fuel I need to help Dylan when he finally admits he needs us.” Chris laughs and Jake pulls him in closer to his side.

Dylan scoffs and sips his beer before throwing his head back against the couch, eyes closed. “Trust me, when I have something to say about it, I will.”

I’m sitting on the floor with Luca, where he’s happily playing with his barn and farm animals. Ellie puts a lot of effort into finding toys that seem to interest Luca and help him with whatever stage of development he’s going through. She’s overly thoughtful, and I wonder if she realizes how she naturally thinks three steps ahead. Or maybe it’s not as effortless as it seems. Does her brain ever take a break?

I finally have the guys alone, and I don’t know how long we’ll have. I need to do this now.

We’re not entirely out of earshot of the girls, since we’re watching the game on the TV in our front room, so I keep my voice low. “I hate to derail an interrogation, especially on Dylan’s account, but before you intervene in his personal life, I need your help. Did you bring the goods?”

They stare at me.

“The goods?” Chris asks, eyebrow raised.

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