She backed up and ushered me in. “I’m great! Do you like my jammies with Thanksgiving colors?” Before I could reply, she frowned. “I just wish we had snow for turkey day!”

I wrinkled my nose. “Snow? No, thanks. I love a warm, colorful autumn. It’s rarely this nice for Thanksgiving. We’re more likely to get snowed in during a blizzard, you know?”

She eyed me oddly and then shrugged. “I don’t know.”

I chuckled, suddenly remembering most kids didn’t care that much—or notice—weather trends. She led me to a seat at the kitchen table, a few feet away from where Jeff was cooking.

Clueless about what I should say or do, I just said the first dumb thing that came to mind. “You can cook, Jeff?”

He looked up, the steam from the stove creating tiny sweat beads on his face. “Yes. Most adults can.”

“I don’t know if that’s true.”

He shrugged. “Well then, yes, Roxy. I can cook.”

“Can I help?”

“No. Just relax,” he said firmly.

“Roxy, get out of here! I’m helping Daddy. You’re the guest!” Lila exclaimed.

I laughed. “You don’t know what mad cooking skills you’re missing out on. But sure, I’ll just sit and wait.” My eyes immediately shot to the floor. I couldn’t believe I just said that. It’s, like, something sassy that Hazel would say. Not me.

But Jeff and Lila nudged each other, and I could almost swear I heard a masculine chuckle as he turned around to retrieve something from the refrigerator.

OK, maybe I hadn’t sounded totally awkward. Or had I?

I was examining a still-life painting hanging near the table where I sat when suddenly he was there, sitting next to me on a kitchen chair just a foot away.

I gazed at him and then back at the painting, not really seeing it this time. Awkwardness hung in the air for what seemed like hours but was probably only a minute. Why did he come over here? Did he have something to say? Why wasn’t he saying it?

I snuck a few glances at him, but he was silent, apart from asking Lila to stir something on the stove.

“She said she was pregnant.”

I turned to him, surprised. “Who?”

“Aileen. Nine years ago.” He paused, dragging a hand down the side of his clean-shaven face. “She was lying, but I didn’t know that until I finally realized she couldn’t have been pregnant for eleven months. After we married.”

I nodded sympathetically. “And you stayed for Lila?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, that explains a lot.”

He nodded. “So now you know. Lila doesn’t know any of that though.”

“No, of course not. I won’t breathe a word.” Ironically, my voice got slightly breathy at the end.

We locked eyes for a moment. “I just wanted to clear that up.” He abruptly stood up and strode away.

It wasn’t until a moment later when it dawned on me. As they’d shooed me out of the kitchen, he’d called me Roxy. Not Roxanne. Why?

And why was he telling such personal details about his previous marriage? Had something changed between us?

I tried to take a quick mental inventory as Jeff and Lila bustled around the kitchen. My thoughts weren’t cooperating though. I just … well, I was at his house for a major holiday. Maybe we were almost friends.

And that meant …