Page 38 of A Love Like Christmas Time
This year marks the thirteenth Thanksgiving I’ve spent with Henry and his family. It also marks thirteen proper Thanksgiving dinners I’ve had in my life. Well, fourteen if we count Friendsgiving.
The only difference is that his parents’ hair is streaked more gray and the laugh lines along their eyes have deepened. Christina is still wearing the same sweatshirts with funny animal prints she did a decade ago, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Ben was wearing the exact same shirt as the past thirteen Thanksgivings.
I’m not sure what I did to deserve his parents including me every single year, but I appreciate it more than I would ever admit out loud.
“Lauren turned up with three cardboard boxes of decor and determination,” I say, causing Christina to break into one of her kind smiles, which crinkles the corner of her eyes.
“Lauren, you say?” She mumbles as she heaves the next piece of pie onto Henry’s plate. “Nic’s friend, right? Those two are really turning Wayward Hollow upside down.”
“They are certainly whirlwinds,” Henry chuckles and reaches for the whipped cream. “Then again, so is Kieran.”
“Kieran,” Ben repeats and furrows his eyebrows as Henry passes the bowl to me. “You know what, Christina? We ought to meet all of these people. They sound like they liven up a party.”
“Oh, that they can,” I mumble and spoon whipped cream on my pie. “Anyway, how was your cruise?” I ask, and Christina’s face immediately lights up.
“It was wonderful!” she exclaims and proceeds to tell me every single detail of their trip. From the ride to the airport and the 15-minute delay, to how they got to the boat with 5 minutes to spare.
Nala, their senior golden retriever, trots over to me and lays her chin on my thigh. My hand instinctively runs through her fur, my heart beating into my throat.
I’m a loner. That’s not a secret.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that people leave. And that you’re better off not letting them too close, because the more you open yourself to them, the more it is going to hurt when they inevitably leave you behind.
But these Thanksgivings with Henry’s family make it extremely fucking hard to keep my distance. Or when Ben and Christina pop into the café to say hi on their way to God knows where. I always make sure I take a break and chat with them. But each time, them walking out of my café, is leaving me with a tight knot in my stomach.
I wish I could trust them to stay. I really,reallydo. But for now, sitting here, smiling and pretending I’m not having a slight panic attack is about the best I can manage.
“Congratulations! You survived,” Henry chuckles later and clasps my shoulder as we make our way to his car. Jensen is running ahead, his tail wagging and clearly happy with the snow still covering the ground.
I wish I had my car here. All this socializing is taking its toll on me.
But since his parents don’t exactly have a bunch of parking spaces in front of their house, he picked me up. And to be honest, I’m not mad at not having to drive through snow.
“Obviously,” I roll my eyes. “Or did you think your mom poisoned the food? If anyone had ended up dead, I doubt it would have been me.”
He chuckles and opens his trunk for Jensen to jump into, but his dog is still busy rolling around in the snow.
For a while, we stay in front of the car and watch him.
“God, I wish something in my life brought me this much joy.” I grumble and cross my arms in front of my chest. The cold slowly seeps through my clothes, and the occasional snowflake flutters down from the sky.
“I mean,” Henry says with a grin and quirks a brow at me, “something? Or someone?”
“Henry,” I growl, but his grin only widens. “Drop it.”
“Okay. For now.” He shrugs. Finally, Jensen decides to hop into Henry’s car, and I wade my way through the ankle-high snow to his passenger seat.
“You know,” Henry mutters, turning on the engine and the heating and holding his hands in front of the air vent. “I don’t claim to have all the answers, and I won't pretend to know everything that happened or how you feel.” I keep my eyesstrictly ahead, but from the corner of my eye I can see him watching me. “But I think I have a pretty good picture.” He clears his throat, then rubs his gloved hands against each other to create more heat with the friction before laying them on the steering wheel. “But when good things happen, sometimes you have to embrace them.”
At a pace that would rival a tortoise, he pulls out of the parking spot, carefully and slowly maneuvering the car to the main street.
“I’m not sure what the deal is with Lauren and you. Is there even a deal at all? Do you want there to be?” The question hangs heavy in the air until I can’t help but make a noncommittal sound.
“Do you remember how you told me not to fuck it up with Nic because the two of them are special?” He lets the question linger until I nod.
“This is the part where you eat your words.” I glance over to see his shit-eating grin. “Don’t mess it up, Caleb. The two of them are special. You were right about that. And also—” He halts the car at a stoplight and turns to me. “Caleb, you’re my friend. And I like you. And I understand you didn’t have it easy, but—” I roll my eyes, but he’s undeterred. “Whatever happened before you came to Wayward Hollow, was half your life ago at this point. Are the bad memories worth holding onto anymore?”
“Henry, don’t,” I mumble, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
