Chapter 27 Ember
EMBER
Nate's mom bustled in from the kitchen carrying a platter of turkey with her face flushed from the heat of the oven.
She set it down at the head of the table where Nate's father sat with rigid posture and half of a scowl on his face.
He'd barely looked at me since we arrived and I felt the heat of his eyes on me no matter what I did. I knew it would be challenging, but I didn’t figure it would be outright hostile.
"Everything looks beautiful, Mom," Nate said, pulling out my chair before taking his own seat beside me.
It did look beautiful, the whole spread.
She'd made the traditional favorites—turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce—and a few quirky additions.
My mouth watered at the sight of the cauliflower casserole.
"Thank you, dear." She smiled at both of us before disappearing back into the kitchen for more dishes.
I smoothed my napkin across my lap and tried to steady my breathing.
The past week had been brutal with my face plastered across every news outlet in Boston.
Reporters camped outside Nate's home and I couldn't leave without a barrage of questions I didn't want to answer.
The revelation that Ember Harrison was actually Amber Hensley had turned me from a scandalous seductress into a full-blown spectacle.
Nate's father had called twice since the story broke, both times demanding that Nate end our relationship immediately.
I'd heard Nate's side of those conversations through the bedroom door, and I knew it was a point of strong contention between them.
But sitting across from his father now, I got the sense that Nate had sheltered me from most of it.
I wasn't prepared for the explosion I knew was probably coming.
His mom came back with dishes of green beans and stuffing and arranged them on the table.
Then she took her seat at the end opposite Nate's dad and smiled warmly.
At least I had her support, even if her husband was adamant that I had no place at this table.
"Shall we say grace?" she asked, and her eyes were firmly fixed on Mr. Bradley.
Nate glanced at me, and I could see the unease in his eyes.
It didn’t make me feel any better to know he, too, was anxious.
We bowed our heads while Nate's father offered a brief prayer thanking God for the meal and the blessings of family.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
I was seated at a table where I felt like I'd never be truly accepted as family.
I wondered if he'd meant it as a jab, but I was too timid to ask.
Besides, it wasn't the right time to bring something like that up.
When he finished praying, Nate started dinner by serving himself a heaping portion of potatoes and passed the dish to me.
I took it awkwardly, still afraid to look up from my plate but thankful for something to do with my hands.
I took small portions of everything despite having some mild nausea tonight.
I knew I had to eat, though, and I knew Nate would scold me if I didn't.
"The turkey is so amazing," I said to Nate's mother after taking my first bite. "So juicy… Thank you so much for inviting me."
"Of course, dear. You're family now." She glanced at Nate's dad, whose lips pursed as he cut into his meat, but he didn't return the glance, nor did he look up when she said, "We're glad to have you here."
But he did grunt under his breath, and I couldn’t tell if that was disapproval or disagreement—probably both.
"How are you feeling, Ember?" Nate's mom asked. "Nathan mentioned you've been struggling with morning sickness."
Her tiny bites came between forced smiles.
I could feel the tension in the air around this table like a ticking time bomb, like every interaction was forced.
"It's been challenging, but the medication's helping." I set down my fork and wiped my mouth to be polite. "I'm learning to manage it better."
"Pregnancy's never easy, especially the first time." I felt some of the tension ease as she smiled at Nate and my shoulders loosened a little. "I was sick for five months with Nathan. I could barely keep down water, let alone food."
"I didn't know that," Nate said, chuckling.
"You were too busy making me miserable to care about the details."
When she joined me in laughing, I felt more of the pressure ease off my chest and glanced at Nate's dad who still hadn't taken a bite.
He seemed to prefer stabbing his meat with his fork and knifing it to a pulp.
And when my gaze met Nate's, I could see the apprehension knitted on his brow too.
I tried so hard to eat, took little nibbles while nausea roiled around my belly, and I watched Nate's food disappear slowly, bite by bite.
But the longer silence reigned at the table, the worse my anxiety got until Nate's father finally broke that silence with exactly what I assumed would happen—a verbal rebuke.
"What are your intentions regarding the Hearthkeeper role?" he asked suddenly, and I felt the temperature in the room go from too hot to ice-cold in one single breath.
I swallowed the lump of potatoes on my tongue and dabbed my mouth carefully as I took time to think through my response before I spoke.
"I plan to fulfill my obligations through Christmas Eve, assuming the committee allows it."
"The committee wants you gone. They've made that abundantly clear." He finally set down his knife and fork and turned a hardened glare on me. "You're aware that your continued presence is damaging Nathan's reputation."
I bristled, feeling the hair on my arms and the back of my neck rise.
I could've let Nate jump in to defend me, but for once, I felt like I needed to say something myself.
I was sick of people getting their say in while I sat there feeling too scared to talk.
"I'm aware of that, yes." I kept my voice steady. "But I didn't ask for this attention."
"My son made a poor decision influenced by infatuation with a much younger woman." His tone was cold and his eyes were daggers.
"You could've declined the Hearthkeeper appointment and instead you inserted yourself into his life."
"That's enough," Nate said sharply, and he grabbed his napkin as if he were about to throw it onto his plate.
"No, let him speak," I told Nate, then looked directly at Nate's father. "I'd like to hear what you have to say considering you know nothing about me. You haven't taken a moment of time to try getting to know me."
His eyebrows rose slightly. "Excuse me?"
"With all due respect, Mr. Bradley, all you see is a much younger woman who entrapped your son.
" I took a breath to calm myself so I didn't resort to shouting too, but I wasn't backing down.
"I understand your concern for Nate. He's your son, and you want to protect him.
But I'm not your enemy—and I'm not a gold digger. "
The room got so quiet I could hear my own stomach churning.
Nate's mom had stopped eating, and her fork hovered over her plate with food still on it.
I could see the tension across Nate’s shoulders and back, like a serpent poised to strike, but I squeezed his knee under the table and shook my head.
"I grew up in a modest home in San Diego," I continued.
"My father was a teacher. My mother worked as a nurse.
They taught me to work hard and treat people with respect.
I came to Boston to escape a situation that nearly destroyed me and built a new life from nothing.
I took this job with Nate because it lines up with my career path in HR, and when he was desperate and put on the spot at the last minute, I agreed to help him with the Hearthkeeper role to help him continue his good reputation.
And the entire time, I knew it might drag me right back into the press. "
I heaved out a sigh, and it was Nate's turn to offer me a nod of approval.
He relaxed his shoulders and watched me with a smile as I continued.
"What happened between me and Nate is entirely separate from our professional lives, and I love your son more fiercely than my own life.
To the point that I offered to walk away from everything just to preserve his reputation, and he told me no.
He wants me here, and I want to be here with him."
Nate's father had sat back in his chair, folded his arms over his chest, and his expression had softened to a look of mild annoyance.
It appeared he knew he was being proven wrong, so I kept going, but I lowered my tone and tried to appeal to his better judgment.
"I'm not trying to trap him or manipulate him or damage his career," I said. "I'm just living my life and trying to survive the opinions of other people who have too much time on their hands. I won't apologize for loving your son or for carrying his baby."
Nate's hand found mine under the table and I saw his eyes brimming with tears. "I love you," he mouthed at me, but it did nothing to calm the nerves in my body. I was shaking from head to toe.
Finally, Nate's dad cleared his throat and said, "I may have misjudged you, Ms. Harrison."
The words were stiff and formal, but they were music to my ears, even as his head dipped and he picked up his fork.
"I still believe this situation is far from ideal," he continued. "The age difference concerns me. But I believe you're not the opportunist I once thought you to be."
"Thank you," I said quietly, feeling a slight rush.
"I apologize for my harsh words and assumptions." He narrowed his eyes on Nate. "And it doesn't mean I approve of all of this," he said, waving his fork around, "but I told Mrs. Bradley I’d behave, so let's just eat."
Nate's mom let out a small sob of relief before putting her food into her mouth.
Nate squeezed my hand again, and I saw the shock on his face.
His father offering any kind of apology was clearly unprecedented.
We resumed eating, with the atmosphere still tense and conversation almost nonexistent, and a knock at the door made us all lift our heads.
Nate's mom frowned. "Who could that be on Thanksgiving?"
"I'll see to it." Mr. Bradley stood and walked to the front entrance.
We heard muffled voices, then his father saying firmly, "This is not an appropriate time."
"It can't wait," another voice insisted. "The committee needs your support if we're going to resolve this situation before the ceremony next week."
My stomach dropped because I recognized that voice from the civic club luncheon.
One of the committee members who had been particularly vocal about his disapproval of my appointment as Hearthkeeper was here.
I looked to Nate, who seemed to pick up on that same fact at the same time I did.
"The situation you are referring to is a private family matter," Nate's dad said.
"It's a public matter when it involves the Lightkeeper tradition.
We need Miss Harrison to resign immediately, and we need you to convince your son that it's the right course of action.
" I thought I'd be sick, but hearing Nate's dad go to bat for us made me finally believe that things were shifting in our favor.
"I will do no such thing." Nate's father's voice was cold. "My son's personal life is his own business. Speak with him on your own time."
The door closed with a decisive thud and Nate's dad returned to the dining room grumbling something under his breath.
He sank into his chair and ran a hand over his balding head.
"I apologize for that interruption," he muttered. "The committee's been pressuring me to intervene, and I allowed them to believe I'd support their position. It was a mistake on my part."
I stared at him, trying to process what had just happened.
Tears welled up in my eyes as relief flooded me.
"Thank you," Nate said quietly, and I realized he probably felt the same way I did.
Like the whole world wasn't against us anymore.
His father nodded. "I still have reservations about this entire situation," he said grumpily, and Mrs. Bradley chuckled as she picked up the bowl of candied yams.
"Yes, dear," she sighed, scooping some onto her plate.
Our toughest critic had caved and finally, he saw the light of understanding.
Now, if convincing Mr. Bradley wasn't enough to sway the committee, at least it was enough to bring peace to Nate's family.
I allowed myself to hope that life could find some sort of happy rhythm as soon as the ceremony was over and Nate's duties as Lightkeeper had passed.
And until that time, I resolved to keep my head held high.
I was still his Hearthkeeper, after all.