Page 79 of Second Quarter Comeback
I scoff. “Nope, but that would be funny.”
The estate comes into view, all wood shingles, big windows, and a wraparound porch that somehow manages to make the massive structure look inviting instead of intimidating.
Camille’s eyes widen slightly as she takes it in. “This is . . . wow.”
“It’s a house,” I say with a shrug, pulling the car to a stop near the front steps.
“A house,” she repeats, her tone teasing. “More like a mansion. Or maybe a small country.”
I chuckle, stepping out and walking around to openher door. She hesitates for a second, then takes my hand, her palm warm against mine as she steps out.
The front door flies open before we even make it to the porch, and Scottie bounds down the steps like she’s been waiting all day to ambush us. Her dark hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and her expression practically glows with mischief.
“There they are,” she says, her voice full of mock exasperation. “You’re late.”
“Blame the traffic,” I lie smoothly. The truth? The cat sitter was late, and Camille vetoed my idea to bring Ben because, apparently, Ben and the family pets might be a recipe for disaster. He doesn’t play well with other pets.
Scottie rolls her eyes, turning her attention to Camille. “Welcome to the Crawford madhouse,” she says, pulling Camille into a quick hug like they’ve been best friends for years. “Come on, everyone’s inside.”
Before I can say anything, Scottie loops her arm through Camille’s and whisks her up the steps. I trail behind, shaking my head but smiling.
Inside, the house smells like Thanksgiving—roasting turkey, cinnamon, and something faintly fried. My dad, Papa, is in the kitchen, carving one of the turkeys with surgeon-like precision, while Dad stands nearby, taste-testing something from a wooden spoon.
“Kill,” Papa calls out when he sees me. “And Camille, nice to see you again.”
“Nice seeing you too, Mr. Crawford,” Camille says politely, shaking his hand.
“She’s a doctor, you know,” Scottie says, leaning against the counter.
“I know,” Papa replies, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow. “Killion’s been talking about her nonstop.”
“Has he?” Camille asks, her tone light and teasing as she turns to me.
“Not nonstop,” I mutter, clearing my throat.
Then, Lucian enters, balancing a plate piled high with appetizers. Behind him, Leif and Greyson file in, already bickering about something inconsequential.
“Camille,” Lucian says, grinning. “Finally, someone to keep Kill in line.”
“She’s not here to manage me,” I shoot back, but Camille just laughs.
“Let’s all cool it,” Dad says. “It’s very nice to meet you, Camille. Welcome to the Crawford home. We’re glad you were able to join us.”
Dinner is loud, messy, and perfect in its own way. Plates are passed around the long dining table like a well-rehearsed dance, interrupted only by the constant buzz of conversation. Scottie squeezes in at least five questions about Camille’s career, each one more pointed than the last. Meanwhile, Lucian and Leif argue over who makes the better mashed potatoes—an argument that devolves into a blind taste test judged by Greyson, who declares them both losers because Papa’s mashed potatoes are obviously superior.
Camille, to her credit, is all graceful and friendly, answering Scottie’s rapid-fire questions with ease and laughing at Lucian and Leif’s antics. I catch her eye across the table, and for a moment, it feels like she belongs here, chaos and all.
When dinner winds down, and dessert is brought out, I lean over to her, keeping my voice low. “See? Mostly tame.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “If this is ‘tame,’ I’d hate to see wild.”
“Trust me, this is mild,” I say, smirking. “You should be thankful that we’re not having games today or it’d be a disaster. The important part is that you do fit in.”
After dinner, we move to the living room, where the fire is already crackling. Greyson and Lucian argue over what movie to put on, while Papa and Dad sit together on the couch, sharing a glass of scotch.
Camille leans into me, her head resting against my shoulder, and I wrap an arm around her.
“Your family is incredible,” she says softly.
