Page 22 of Fortuity

ChapterNine

Dillon

My mom eyedmy athletic shorts and shirt, shaking her head. “Maybe you’d like to wear something a little nicer for achange?”

“Nah, I’d just get it all dirty.” I jogged over and gave her a kiss on the cheek before dropping down onto the bottom step to pull on my shoes and lace them up. “Dad and I are going outside to throw the football around for a bit before you needourhelp.”

“Help,” she snorted. “Is that what we’re calling it when you two sneak turkey from the carcass and devour an entire can of black olives before I can even get the food on thetable?”

“Hey! We help you bring everything from the kitchen to the dining room table,” Iremindedher.

“True.”

“It’s not like you’d let us do any morethanthat.”

“Also true,” sheagreed.

“And we both know Dad would just set something on fire if you let him help with theturkey.”

Our gazes met, identical brown eyes widening, and we both burst into laughter as we thought about how my dad tried to deep fry a turkey last year. We’d been lucky that he’d set everything up in the backyard, or else he would’ve burned the whole house down. As it was, he’d had to hire a landscaper to come in and redo a huge section of the yard because he’d scorched the grass so badly that no amount of water and sunshine would have fixed it. It’d been one hell of a mess, and we’d ended up eating Chinese takeout for dinner because we didn’t have a backup turkey and the side dishes my mom had made wouldn’t have been enough for awholemeal.

“I’m so glad we can laugh about it now.” My mom wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Because we certainly didn’tbackthen.”

“Yeah, you were beyond pissed that he didn’t just let you make it the way you always did.” I rubbed my abs. “And my mom and I weren’t happy to miss out on our all-timefavoritemeal.”

“I think I was angrier with myself for not just buying a second turkey the minute he suggested deep frying it. I should have knownbetter.”

“Yeah, you should have,” Iteased.

“It’s not like you’re any better in the kitchen than yourfather.”

“Nope, but I blame my momforthat.”

She took the dish towel she’d been holding and snapped me with it intheleg.

“Hey!” Icomplained.

“I don’t want to hear it. Go grab your father and throw the football around so he doesn’t get it in his head that he should come and help me withdinner.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” I stood up from the stairs and saluted her before heading towards the family room off the backporch.

“Maybe Faith will be better in the kitchen than the twoofyou.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and swiveled around to stare at my mom after what she’d said registered in my brain. “Faith?”

“Yes, I invited her to join ustoday.”

“You invited her to Thanksgiving?” For as much as my mom loved to entertain, she’d always kept the major holidays tofamilyonly.

“I know,” she sighed, offering me an apologetic smile as she held her hands up in surrender. “It’s horribly hypocritical of me to have invited her over when I’m the one who set the no guests rule, but I like to think you would have done the same thing if you’d heard her plans fortheday.”

“What was she goingtodo?”

“Stay on campus, eat in the cafeteria while it was open during the day, and microwave something later on! I couldn’t let her do that, could I? Not onThanksgiving.”

“Of course you couldn’t,” I reassured, moving close enough to wrap her up inahug.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” she mumbled against myshirt.

---