An Innocent Thanksgiving (Holiday Heat Book 2) Page 3

  I hated keeping Fern away from them so much. They loved her. They were the perfect doting grandparents. But how could I bring Fern around when doing so would be tempting fate? If only my parents knew that the callous man who didn’t want anything to do with me was their best friend. It would hurt them deeply, and I couldn’t do that.

  If Cal saw Fern… well, I didn’t know what he’d do, actually. I was sure that he knew about Fern from my parents. They could never resist talking about her and praising her to anyone who’d listen, discussing Fern’s artistic talent, her imagination, her adorable big green eyes—her father’s eyes. Whether or not Cal had actually put two and two together about Fern, though… that I wasn’t sure about.

  Then again, Cal was an artist. He tended to lose focus on the real world when he was busy creating. I could remember a couple of instances when Dad had gone over to Cal’s house to remind him to eat regularly because Cal had been swept up in the hurricane of creation. It could have been that he hadn’t been paying attention.

  Or, worse… that he didn’t care about me enough to consider the suspicious timing of my pregnancy.

  I didn’t want to think of him as that type of man, but then again, the way that he’d reacted that night… after we’d finished the afterglow…

  He’d said it was a mistake. That we never should’ve had sex. He’d said that I was too young, too inexperienced, that the gulf of maturity and years between us was too much and that he should’ve known better. He’d said that he regretted it. That had—that had really hurt. Of course, it had. I had been in love with the man for five years at that point and yes, maybe I was young, and yes, maybe part of it was girlish infatuation. But so the fuck what? Who cared? I had felt a connection between us and I had wanted to see where that would go. He hadn’t. Just because I was young didn’t make my feelings any less valid. It wasn’t like I’d been sixteen, and it wasn’t like he’d taken advantage of me. I’d known what I was doing.

  Cal hadn’t listened, and I hadn’t wanted to expose myself to more hurt by revealing just how much I cared about him—how much I had been pining after him all this time. Instead I’d played it off, as if sleeping with him was just a lark. As if I had chosen him to be my first because of how handsome he was, and his sexual experience, and that no deeper feelings had been involved.

  He hadn’t deserved to know that he was crushing my dreams. Nobody deserved to know that unless I wanted them to. They were my dreams, after all. And since Fern’s father hadn’t been all that keen on the sex that had created her in the first place, I was certain he wouldn’t have been too keen on the pregnancy that had followed. I couldn’t bear the idea that Cal would reject our child, so I had chosen to raise Fern alone. I stood by that opinion.

  “Pumpkin pie?” Fern asked, trying to get up onto the counter.

  “No, no pie, not until after dinner.” I picked her up instead and played with her soft brown hair. It was lighter than Cal’s but darker than my own blonde hair, a perfect in-between. “Hey, Mom, what should I wear for dinner tonight?”

  I was trying to find out if she was going to be inviting anyone else over—namely, Cal.

  “Oh, just whatever, honey, it’s only the four of us.” Mom checked on the turkey that Dad had lovingly defrosted, basted, and put in the oven. Taped to the fridge was a note from him, to Mom: forgot cranberries, ran to the store. Touch nothing but the microwave.

  Once when I was five, Mom had set the kitchen on fire. I felt that was a pretty good example of how well she did with cooking. It was like she had a talent for turning a meal into as much of a disaster as possible.

  “That’s why we’re only doing one pie,” Mom went on.

  “Just one? Mom, c’mon. One’s not enough, I could eat a whole one on my own and so could Dad.”

  Mom laughed. Fern squirmed and I set her down, just in time for my mom to swoop in and give me a hug. “What’s this for?” I asked.

  “Just… I’m so glad you could come and see us this year, honey, that’s all.” Mom squeezed me tightly.

  I hugged her back, listening to my daughter dancing around the kitchen singing about how much she was going to love her pie. All of my nerves was worth this moment, getting to be with both my parents and my daughter. Maybe all my worrying had been for nothing after all

  3

  Cal

  Ah, Thanksgiving. The day had arrived. I waited until after the insane morning rush to go to the grocery store—I had no interest in dealing with a bunch of people grabbing the last-minute ingredient they’d forgotten. Sure enough by the time I got there at two pm the place was empty, and a sign by the front doors said that they would be closing in two hours.

  Worked for me. I was just going to be buying some basic TV dinners to go with the football game, and then I planned on seeing if the blank canvas would speak to me. Thinking about Maggie had put me in a funk, and when I was in a funk, art was the way out.

  “Cal!”

  I turned, dinners in hand, to see Mark striding towards me with a grin on his face. “Hey, feels like forever since I saw you. How’d the opening go last night?”

  “Great, already sold a couple paintings. Jordan’s hoping for big sales tomorrow with Black Friday and all that.”

  “Excellent.”

  “What brings you here?” Normally Mark was slaving away in the kitchen.

  Mark held up a bag of cranberries. “Violet and I both forgot to get cranberries for the sauce, so I thought I’d stop by. And you? Got any big plans for dinner tonight?”

  “Oh yeah, definitely, you know me.” I held up my frozen dinners.

  Mark looked appalled, like I’d just suggested I was going to go diving around in dumpsters for my dinner. “Cal, c’mon, you can’t do that. That’s basically a crime. You should c’mon over and join us like you used to.”

  “Ah, I don’t know, Mark…” I was panicking, there was no doubt about that. Definitely panicking. My heart felt like it was going to keel over and die any second. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “It wouldn’t be intruding.” Mark laughed. “I insist. You can just follow me back to the house now, spend the day with the family.”

  There were a million reasons why this was a bad idea, number one of them being Maggie. But I also… dammit, I wanted to see her. I had thought that being with her was a mistake, and in a way I still did, but I also couldn’t put her out of my mind. Five years and she had been haunting me. Maybe getting to see her again would be a good thing. Maybe…

  “Sure,” I found myself saying. “Why not?”

  The whole drive over I wondered if I was making a mistake. Mark seemed overjoyed to have me over, and if nothing else, at least I was making my best friend happy. Mark had really looked out for me over the years and I owed him, so to speak. But would I really be helping, or hurting, by seeing Maggie again?

  I felt like an alcoholic trying to get one last fix, trying to get a final hit off the bottle so that he could say a proper goodbye. I’d been avoiding Maggie all of this time for a reason—being with her was a bad idea. And yet—I wanted her. I wanted to see her again, to enjoy her company. I wanted to… well. I shoved that thought down. Maybe just seeing her again, no sex required, would be enough for me to get over this nonsense and put her out of my mind for good.

  A man could hope, right?

  I parked on the street, then met Mark at the front door. He looked relaxed but excited, and I felt guilt all over again for finding reasons to stay away from the house the last few years when I knew Maggie might be around. “You just relax,” Mark told me, gesturing towards the living room. “Put the game on. I’ve just gotta make the sauce real quick and then I’ll join you.”

  Mark was the kind of guy who planned ahead and got everything done in an actual orderly fashion. It was part of what made him such a good accountant. I wasn’t like that at all—that’s why I made such a good artist.

  I waved him off, sitting down in the living room and trying to relax. I’d been in this h
ouse in the last few years, of course. But only when I was sure that Maggie wasn’t there. Now that I was here and knew she was around, I felt like I was the fox in the henhouse—and like I had stumbled into the lion’s den, all at the same time.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs as someone came down, and I knew, I knew without even looking, that it was Maggie.

  I looked up and my breath caught as I saw her.

  She was beautiful. Five years and nothing had changed. Well, some things had changed. She looked more mature, more thoughtful. Something of the carefree air she’d used to have about her was gone. She didn’t seem sad, or anything, just… more focused, more serious. But, if it was even possible, she’d only gotten better-looking in the time since I’d seen her last. It was like getting hit with a sledgehammer, and I found myself wishing that I hadn’t pushed her away all those years ago. That I had gone with my gut, instead of my shame, and had kept her close to me.

  Being with her had been the single most exhilarating moment of my life, and I had just thrown that away. I should’ve known better. Instead I’d lied to her.

  I stood up. “Hey, Maggie.”

  Maggie froze.

  I didn’t think she realized I was there until I stood up and said her name. Now she was like a deer in the headlights, staring at me, her gorgeous hazel eyes a bit wide.

  I walked closer, wondering how she was going to react. I caught a whiff of that ocean breeze shampoo she’d always used and found myself wanting to chuckle. Some things changed, but some things stayed the same. I loved how she smelled.

  “Been a long time,” I noted. Now that I had Maggie in front of me, I wasn’t sure what to say. I had plenty of ideas of what to say: I still crave you, I think about you at night, I touched myself just yesterday thinking about fucking you. But none of those, I guessed, would be welcome.

  Maggie nodded, taking a step back from me.

  “How’ve you been?” I asked, surprised at her reticence. Maggie had always been the sort of person who wasn’t scared to voice her opinion or her thoughts. For her to be so silent now was… remarkably out of character.

  “Good.” Just a one-word answer. I wanted to ask who this pod person was and what had they done with my Maggie.

  Not that she was my Maggie, just… the Maggie that I had always known. That talkative girl who’d never had a problem with asking me about my art or my life, and telling me about hers, cracking jokes with me. The girl who’d come onto me with so much confidence that until she’d told me and I’d felt it for myself, I hadn’t though there was any way that she could still be a virgin.

  “I heard you moved south,” I said, practically kicking myself over how stupid I sounded. Really? I’d heard she moved south? That was the best that I could come up with?

  Maggie nodded. “I’ve been in Nashville for the past five years. Finished up my college degree there.”

  I’d never known why she’d switched colleges, but it wasn’t my business—even though I suddenly wanted it to be. I could feel the tension between us and I felt like the worst kind of asshole. I had made this happen. I had ruined the friendship between us, the comfort and the camaraderie—and our chances at their being something more. It felt like you could cut the air between us with a knife, and I was opening my mouth to apologize—

  “What are you doing here?” Maggie asked, cutting me off before I could even start talking. Her voice was… not rude, no, but it wasn’t kind, either. “I thought you suggested that we avoid each other.” It sounded like she was straining to keep herself sounding neutral.

  I nodded. “I… I did. But it’s been five years.” I shrugged. “Maybe that means it’s safe to see each other again. Quite a long time, five years, wouldn’t you say?”

  Even as I said this, watching her, staring at her—drinking her in like some kind of addict—I knew that it wasn’t safe at all.

  4

  Maggie

  To say that I was freaking out would be an understatement. Cal was here! He was right here, in my house, and Fern—our daughter—was napping upstairs!

  Fern was bound to wake up any minute and the moment she did, I couldn’t hide her anymore. What was I supposed to do, keep her in her room until Cal left? Bring her meal up to her like she was a princess in a tower? My parents would never stand for it and it wouldn’t be fair to Fern. But I couldn’t let Cal see her. The moment that he saw her he would know, he’d have to know. She looked too much like him and Cal was too smart for him not to put the pieces together, and everything I had built could crumble like a house of cards in the face of a stiff breeze.

  Shit.

  I hoped that Cal didn’t realize how nervous I was. I felt like I was going a pretty good job of hiding it, but I could never be sure of myself around Cal. Even five years later he still made my heart race. God, he was as handsome now as he had been when I had given myself to him, when I’d finally admitted my desire for him. If only that had gone the way that I’d envisioned. Things could’ve been so very different now.

  “I tried to turn Mark down,” Cal went on, “but he wasn’t having it.”

  “That’s my dad for you,” I said. You know, my dad. Your best friend. One of the reasons you said we shouldn’t be together.

  Cal gave an awkward chuckle. “I’ll try and keep things painless between us.”

  Once, we had joked back and forth like it was nothing. He had made me laugh like nobody else. Now… now it was like our relationship was a shell of itself.

  I had no idea how to fix it, or even if I should. After all, it wasn’t my fault that this had happened. I had wanted to be with him five years ago. He was the one who had shut that idea down.

  Instead of actually saying any of this and sparking an argument that I wasn’t even sure was worth having, I nodded. There had to be some way I could get him to leave. I couldn’t keep Fern up in her room but I could get Cal out of the house. Was there an errand I could send him on? Or some emergency that I could fake? Or…

  “Mama?”

  Too late. Shit was about to hit the fan.

  Fern was coming down the stairs, a little wobbly from sleep, rubbing at her eyes. She always insisted she was too old and didn’t need a nap anymore, and then she’d plop into deadweight after ten minutes. I knew that it wouldn’t be long until she really was too old for naps, but I was trying not to think about that. She was getting old so fast, growing up in the blink of an eye.

  “Yes, baby?” I asked. Beside me, Cal was completely stiff. I couldn’t look at his face, instead focusing on Fern.

  “I’m thirsty.”

  “Grandma’s in the kitchen, if you go ask nicely and say please she’ll give you a cup of water.”

  Fern yawned, then stepped past me, completely ignoring the strange man standing next to me. Good. Cal didn’t deserve Fern’s attention.

  And yet…

  I shut down the yearning in my chest. It was no use hoping for things that I couldn’t have.

  Cal made a strangled noise as Fern disappeared into the kitchen, and I looked up to see him gaping at me, his eyes wide. His face was basically a giant question mark and I raised an eyebrow, challenging him. Go on, I thought. Ask me. Go ahead. I dare you.

  Before he could—if he was even going to—my dad appeared. “All right, we’re all set. Shall we?” He walked over and grabbed the remote to turn on the football game.

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hug my father and thank him, or if I wanted to strangle him. Cal glanced from my father, to me, and back to my father. “Enjoy the game!” I said brightly, and disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Please tell me there’s something I can do to help,” I said, walking up. Mom was just setting out the place settings on the table and getting out the dishes to put the food in. She frowned. “Well, I suppose you could start on the dishes…”

  Dishes. Excellent. The mindless task that I needed right now. I jumped right in while Fern sipped from her water cup and ate some baby carrots my mom passed her. It was nice and p
eaceful in the kitchen, and I loved it, but I also knew that it couldn’t last. Cal was going to ask about Fern. How could I answer him? What could I possibly say in response?

  I could lie… hmmm. I briefly considered it as I began to wash the dishes, setting them in the dishwasher. But no. I was honest to a fault, for better or for worse. I had kept this secret from my parents out of necessity, because I knew that telling the truth would only end up in hurt and tears for everyone, but I couldn’t lie to Cal. Besides, he’d know that I was lying. There were times I was shocked Mom and Dad hadn’t realized, given Fern’s eyes. She looked just like Cal.

  It was painful, like someone was gripping my heart, claws digging in, to consider telling Cal about his daughter. To consider telling him the truth. But what else was there? I had never been good at lying, especially not about big things, and so if he asked…

  If he asked, I would tell the truth. No matter how terrified it made me.

  5

  Cal

  I watched Mark carefully out of the corner of my eye as we sat, watching the game. In the kitchen I could hear Violet and Maggie cleaning up and getting the dining table all nice for the dinner, and it was so reminiscent of that night five years ago that I felt like I was choking on it.

  “First time I’ve seen your granddaughter,” I mentioned, trying to keep my voice even. “In fact, I… I didn’t even know that Maggie had a child.”

  Mark laughed, sounding startled, and turned away from the game to look at me. “Oh, c’mon, Cal, I know that you zone out but really?”