Page 88 of The Holiday Ex-Files

I felt awful for her. She was really hoping she could plan the perfect Thanksgiving to make her dad see how wonderful her mom is and I think to show him how capable and impressive Mara could be. As always, Jay was a blind jerk.

Me: I’m so sorry. You are still more than welcome to come to my parents’. I’m heading over there now. It will be a zoo, but I can guarantee good pie and I know where my mom hides the liquor. Love you.

Mara: Thanks for the invite, but I just found some celery and I know exactly where it should go. She can livestream that. Love you more.

I would head over to her place and bring her some pie after my family’s festivities were over. It was weird how much I was looking forward to it this year. Maybe it was the turkey headbands I had bought for all my minions. Or perhaps it was me. The real me.

No matter the reason, I made my way back to Aspen Lake. I had to make a quick stop at my place to check on Neville, who was back to bingeing Beverly Hills, 90210. I think he was depressed, and Dylan and Kelly brought him comfort. I’m pretty sure he was ecstatic to find out that Dylan really was the father of Kelly’s son. Believe me, we were all happy for that piece of news. I also had to grab the two pans of green bean casserole I had assembled in between running the 5K and helping at the homeless shelter—they just needed to be baked. By the way, I had rocked my run. A seven-minute-mile pace, baby, and no tears. Not to say Ben didn’t haunt that trail, but there was something about facing him that helped give me the courage to push through.

I wished I could take Neville with me, but he would go into cardiac arrest with so many people. Besides, he was mourning Luna. I, on the other hand, was trying not to think of Noah and Annika. It wasn’t going so well. I kept thinking they had probably skipped dinner and gone straight to caulking. Ugh.

With Neville taken care of, I headed to my parents’ place; I even put some Christmas music on the radio. I wasn’t doing the hard stuff yet, like Bing Crosby and Andy Williams. I started out slow with some Trans-Siberian Orchestra. No words, just some head-banging-worthy Christmas jams.

I dispensed with the pep talk I had needed to face my family on the holidays the last few years and just went for it. Me, the headbands, and the coveted casseroles. Corey and Ryland were going to kill me. I couldn’t wait to see them with felt turkeys on their heads.

When I walked in with my hands full, still wearing my turkey feather tutu, though I had upgraded to a black sweater, it was as if time stopped. I swore my entire family was there waiting for me to arrive, like they were throwing me a surprise birthday party. Everyone rushed me, and Dad grabbed the green bean casseroles to keep them from harm, before everyone else began hugging and kissing me, so happy I had come. It’s not like I hadn’t been to Thanksgiving in the last few years, but it was the first time since my divorce I hadn’t snuck in wearing sweats and a scowl that could melt butter. All I knew was I felt loved and hungry. Sage, thyme, and homemade rolls wafted through the house.

With sheeny eyes, I hugged and kissed everyone back, from my big dopey brothers to the cutest tot and, of course, the best parents a girl could ask for. Daniel and Ilene Jenkins—the world didn’t make them any better than those two. And someday I might forgive them for inviting the unexpected guest who walked in the door looking way too good, and oddly shell shocked, in his photo shoot outfit. I guess that meant he and Annika had taken the next step. Good for them. I’ll tell you this, I didn’t care if they did break up, I was never cropping another photo shoot for him.

My family peeled away from me like a blooming onion, leaving me exposed to the gaze of Noah. I swore every head, even my little minions’, ping-ponged between us. All Noah did was peruse my ridiculous getup, his lips twitching, until he turned his focus to my mom—the main instigator, I was sure. She’d pestered me with questions about him yesterday and was disappointed to hear that we weren’t really speaking and he was spending Thanksgiving with Annika. Or at least he was supposed to have been. Why was he here?

“Sorry I’m early for pie, Mrs. J. My dinner plans were cut short,” he sounded relieved.

That cleared up why he was here, sort of.

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