Chapter 12
12
B reathing exercises never really worked for Hanna.
Still, she tried them.
In four. Hold seven. Out eight.
Fuck it.
She got out of the car and smoothed her pants. Tucker told her Thanksgiving was a casual affair with his family and close friends, so she’d gone with cuffed light wash straight leg jeans, an oversized navy and white striped button-down shirt, white converse, and chunky gold hoops. People on the Gulf were generally pretty casual, but she’d overthought her outfit to the point where she wanted to burn her entire closet, so she landed on something that could look dressed down or scaled up, if needed.
Nervous was a mild way of putting how she felt. She’d rather go cage diving with sharks, sans cage. But Tucker would be here, and she’d whispered her fears and anxieties to him late into the night last night. He’d reassured her time and time again—his family would love her. He wasn’t worried.
Then again, of course he wasn’t worried. He had little to lose today.
Hanna, on the other hand, had never really done this before.
But he’d be here. And when she couldn’t let go of the fears around this meeting—the overwhelming panic that she’d be her normal, rambly, blunt self and they’d hate her—he reminded her that he’d hold her hand through every second of it.
They’d driven separately because he was wrapping things up at the restaurant first and Hanna wanted an easy getaway if she needed one, though she didn’t tell him that. But he should be arriving any minute now.
Madi and Bella had called her that morning to wish her a Happy Thanksgiving.
“We miss you,” her sister said.
“A lot,” Madi chimed in. “Remind me why you decided not to drive home for Thanksgiving again?”
Hanna felt her cheeks redden and was instantly grateful they hadn’t FaceTimed. Both of them could tell when she was lying just by looking at her—they knew her tells, chief of which was a red face. And she still hadn’t told them about Tucker.
“Just didn’t want to deal with all the traffic for just a few days home. Figured I’d take some time to rest up so I have the energy for the rest of the school year.”
A half-truth, at best. They didn’t know she was spending the evening with Tucker’s family. They didn’t even know Tucker existed.
“But you’ll be home for Christmas, right?” Madi asked, and Hanna could hear the real sadness in her voice that she wasn’t there.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
She knew she needed to come clean at some point—tell them about Tucker, ask for their advice on what to do, maybe even introduce them to him.
But that just made it all so real. And sometimes, he was so incredible that he just didn’t feel real at all. She heaved a sigh, looked up at the sky, and checked her phone as it buzzed.
Tucker: Sorry, shortcake. Restaurant’s insane today. Running late.
Hanna wanted to scream. He was leaving her to go to Thanksgiving with his family by herself? After he specifically told her she wouldn’t have to do it alone?
She had the sudden urge to throw up.
Instead, she pulled herself together and texted back.
Hanna: It’s alright. Wish me luck.
Her phone buzzed almost immediately.
Tucker: They’re going to LOVE you. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m so sorry.
Meeting people wasn’t exactly easy for Hanna. She thought Tucker understood this—understood the high levels of anxiety that came with having Thanksgiving with complete strangers, ones she hoped would love her and welcome her into their family.
God, she was spiraling. Maybe she should leave and come back later.
Right as she was about to hop back in her car, the front door of the beautiful, bay-front house opened.
“You must be Hanna,” said a bright-eyed woman with wispy, gray hair and a shirt that said “In My Grandma Era.”
A fluttering sensation churned in her chest. This must be Ida. Tucker had told Hanna about her—the feisty Grams who raised Tucker’s infamous best friend, Shawn, and always seemed to know when the two of them were up to no good. Since Tucker and Shawn had been thick as thieves growing up—and still were today—they’d done Thanksgiving with each other’s families for almost a decade now.
“I am,” Hanna said, her voice coming out raspy as if she hadn’t had a sip of water in days. She cleared her throat and added, “Tucker’s running late, so it’s just me for now.”
“Tuck and that restaurant,” Ida said, rolling her eyes. “I’m proud of that boy, but God knows he’s gonna keel over if he doesn’t take a break every once in a while. Anyway and anyhow, my name’s Ida, but you can call me Grams.”
“Grams?” Hanna asked trepidatiously.
“That’s what all my grandkids call me. Tuck’s my grandkid, too, even if we’re not related by blood.”
Hanna felt her body relax, just a fraction. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
“Come on in, sweetie. Let’s get you a glass of wine.”
Following her in, Hanna couldn’t help but notice how cozy the house was. A narrow foyer lined with photos of the family led to a kitchen filled with all the fixings for a good Thanksgiving, and then some. A charcuterie board, mini quiches, and small bowls of various snacks lined the kitchen island. Before she had a chance to register more than that, she was being rushed into a hug.
“Hanna,” an older man tugged her in for a tight hug, then gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. “We’ve heard so much about you from Tucker.”
“And you must be Gary,” Hanna said, forcing a grin as she took in Shawn’s grandfather.
“Call me Pop. Everyone else does.”
In spite of the churning sensation in her stomach from the growing unease, her smile began to feel a little less forced. She wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome. Sure, Tucker had told her that his family and friends would love her—but this was another thing altogether.
“Hanna!” A woman’s voice shrieked. “I’m Angie, Tuck’s mom. And this is Jason, his dad. We are just thrilled for you to be joining us!”
“Nice to meet you,” Hanna said as Grams placed a glass of wine in Hanna’s hand with a wink.
“This alright, sweetie?” Grams asked. Hanna nodded, taking a big gulp. “That’s the spirit. I knew I’d like you.”
Hanna felt a flurry of butterflies in her stomach, and not the good kind. What questions did you ask your boyfriend’s family when you were only just meeting them at Thanksgiving and you couldn’t totally figure out why he liked you in the first place?
“Where’s Shawny?” Pop asked.
“Right here, Pop. Sheesh.”
A tall, muscular man with a scowl walked toward Hanna. Tucker had told her the most about his best friend—how they basically grew up together, how Shawn helped him get the restaurant up and running, how he was an unapologetic fuckboy.
“Hi, Shawn.”
“Hanna.”
She gulped, then fiddled with the edge of her sleeve. Dear God, did he hate her? Why? Should she leave? Did everyone think it was weird that she was here and not with her own family? Were they wondering why Tucker wasn’t here yet?
Pop clapped Shawn on the back and gave him a firm look. “That how you greet your best friend’s girl?”
“No, it’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it,” Hanna rushed to say. “It’s weird, right? A total stranger at your family Thanksgiving, and Tucker’s not even here yet. I have no clue what’s going on at the restaurant, but it must be important. I mean, I don’t really know why it’s open on Thanksgiving. Do they really get that much business? But I guess that’s why I’m a kindergarten teacher and not a chef or a business owner. Tucker actually came to my class last week and taught the kids how to make a little snack mix. It was really cute! He called it kiddie crunch. The kids loved it. Well, you know, it’s hard to get kids to do anything with the holidays around the corner, but they loved having Tucker come in. I guess I thought he’d want to cook Thanksgiving too, but it sounds like he leaves that to Ida and Gary—I mean, Grams and Pop.”
Hanna took a deep breath, noticing everyone around her was blinking with a mix of amusement and dismay. A trickle of sweat fell down her spine. “I’m sorry. I’m being really awkward, aren’t I? It’s just, I ramble when I’m nervous. And not to make this more awkward, but I’m really nervous. I mean, I’ve never really had a boyfriend before, and then Tucker and I met, and it all happened so fast, and now I’m having Thanksgiving with his family? I mean, my family doesn’t even know we’re dating. Yet. I mean, not like he’s a dirty little secret I’m keeping. Not, like, dirty dirty! I mean, just that, I haven’t had the chance to tell them.”
A fluttering sensation churned in her chest. She wanted to climb out of her skin.
Shut up, Hanna. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
“I mean, not not dirty. Tucker definitely knows what he’s doing, if you know what I mean. Oh God, I mean—I don’t know why I said that. Can someone please cut me off and take me out of my misery before I tell you every embarrassing thing floating around in my stupid brain?”
Hanna forced herself to take multiple sips of her wine as silence echoed around her. Were they going to kick her out? Should she just leave and put everyone out of their misery? Maybe she should move, for real.
“I like her,” Shawn said looking around at the people gathered before resting his gaze on Hanna, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I can see why Tuck is so into you. You’re exactly what he needs.”
“Agreed.” Grams beamed.
“Don’t be nervous, Hanna,” Angie said, intertwining their arms. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but we’re so happy you’re here. Rambling and all.”
Hanna’s heart warmed at how easily they welcomed her despite the way her heart still pounded in her chest. She wanted to kick herself. Not just for the embarrassing word vomit of information, but also for the nagging feeling she couldn’t seem to shake—that this was all just too good to be true. And despite Angie’s kind words of encouragement, Hanna still wasn’t convinced.
More than that, she was realizing how this was all too much, too soon. She’d never done this before. Never really had a boyfriend at all, let alone met the family—especially not during the holidays.
She wasn’t cut out for this—for meeting new people on a high-stress holiday, for having a boyfriend at all, really. She desperately wanted what her sister had with Madi, but lately, she just felt like there was no world where that would happen for her.
Truth was, she was scared.
Scared as hell, actually.
And all of this… it was overwhelming. It skyrocketed her fears from levels on par with jumping off a high dive to something more like going skydiving in the middle of the Pacific.
She wanted to combust, but she let Angie lead her to a sitting room while the rest of the family mingled around her.
“So you’re a kindergarten teacher?” Angie said.
Hanna nodded, stretching her lips into a smile. Where she had a surplus of words earlier, she now seemed to have none.
“How long have you been doing that, sweetie?” Grams asked.
“Oh, just a few years,” Hanna swallowed. “Moved down here after graduating college and started teaching right away. I love my kids, but it’s been a little… lonely here.”
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
They’re going to think you’re just a big loser.
“Why’s that, hon?” Pop asked.
Hanna couldn’t help wringing her fingers together as nerves resurfaced. “Oh, you know. It’s just hard making friends as an adult. I mean, I try, of course. I put myself out there. That’s actually how I met Tucker. I was on this terrible first date with this god-awful man who was just, like, rude and boring. He hadn’t asked me a single question about myself and still thought I would go home with him, which just…” Hanna scoffed. “Anyway, I laughed so hard I burped.”
“You… burped?” Angie asked.
Shut. Up.
She couldn’t stop herself.
“Burp is probably underselling it, actually.”
“And that was how you met Tuck?” Shawn failed to hide a smirk behind a can of beer, taking a seat next to Grams.
“That was the first time I met him,” Hanna said. “The second time I met him, I spilled coffee all over an old man. The third time, I had penises all over my face.”
Shawn spit out beer and guffawed. “I’m sorry, I thought I just heard you say you had penises on your face?”
Hanna groaned then buried her head in her hands. “Um. Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I said. I’m just going to be quiet and drink more wine now.”
“I’d rather hear the penis story,” Shawn said, laughter trickling through his voice.
“Me, too,” Grams said. Angie nodded in agreement, taking a sip of her wine.
“Penis story?” Tucker’s voice cut through the kitchen into the sitting room and Hanna sighed a breath of relief. “Can’t believe you’re willingly telling them that one, shortcake.”
“I wouldn’t say willingly so much as accidentally rambled myself into a corner,” Hanna said, taking a generous sip of wine.
Tucker smiled, sauntering over to her and taking a seat next to her.
“Sorry I was late,” he whispered in her ear before kissing her temple.
He smelled like a mix of spices, butter, and something sweet—like he’d been cooking Thanksgiving meals all day for everyone else’s family. That familiar smell ricocheted through Hanna like a siren song, but she couldn’t shake the apprehension she’d been struggling with all day.
She gave him a weak smile as his family oohed and ahhed at the casual display of affection. Hanna felt her body settle slightly now that Tucker was here, but she still felt pressure she couldn’t quite let go of.
Tucker was exhausted, but it was the best kind of exhaustion.
The restaurant had its best week to date—and it wasn’t even open for the full day on Thanksgiving. They offered catering and to-go options for families who didn’t want to cook the whole meal by themselves for the first time ever, and he was pleasantly surprised by how much interest they got. So much interest, in fact, that he’d spent a minimum fourteen hours at the restaurant every day this week.
And tonight couldn’t have gone better. Hanna was her usual awkward self, but his family loved her, just as he suspected. She was a little tipsy, so he offered to drive her home. Shawn was driving behind them in his car to take him back afterward for their annual Thanksgiving trip to FloraBama—an equally mediocre and depressing experience they’d been committed to since they were teenagers.
Since Hanna had buckled into the passenger seat, she’d been quiet. He figured she was processing how everything went tonight and wanted to give her space, but with ten minutes left in the drive, he wanted to reaffirm her.
“Told you my family would love you,” Tucker said. “Tonight was perfect.”
“Tonight was embarrassing, ” Hanna said, her voice breaking.
“I mean, I know you didn’t love telling the penis story, but they thought it was hilarious,” Tucker said. “No need to be embarrassed.”
“It was more than just that. It was everything.” Hanna took a deep breath and looked at him with watery eyes. “I thought you were going to be there. I met them by myself, and I was awkward, and it was terrible. I couldn’t shut up. I mean, I know you like that, but do you know how mortifying it feels to just accidentally spill all your secrets as a nervous tick?”
“Hanna, I?—”
“I just… I get it. I knew the restaurant would be busy today. I just would’ve showed up later if I’d known I’d have to meet them by myself.” She sniffled, and his heart clenched.
He knew she would be nervous to meet his family by herself, but maybe he’d underestimated the levels of her social anxiety. And, to be fair, it’s not like she was a raging extrovert. For anyone, meeting their significant other’s family—on a holiday, no less—was a lot. But for Hanna? In this setting? Tucker could see how it’d be a lot for her.
He sighed. “You’re right, shortcake. I’m sorry. I should’ve communicated better when I knew I’d be late, or figured something out so you didn’t have to meet them alone.”
She was quiet for a moment, and he reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. He knew she needed delicate handling—that behind all the blasé attitude about not knowing how to cook and self-deprecating jokes about her awkwardness, there was real self-consciousness.
He pulled into her driveway and put the car in park, turning to face Hanna.
“I just think…” a grim expression came over her face as tears overflowed. “I think we should just take a break for now.”
Tucker’s heart stuttered. “A break?”
He hadn’t expected this. He was falling for this girl, and she wanted a break?
He’d realized he needed to take a step back from work— she’d helped him realize he needed more in his life than work, and now she wanted out.
“What does that mean, exactly?” He asked, his head roaring.
“I don’t know. I just need time.” Hanna wiped tears from her eyes. “To figure things out.”
“To figure out what, exactly?” Tucker asked, his voice dripping with the stunned sadness he couldn’t escape.
“I don’t know, Tucker,” Hanna said, her voice breaking. Then, more quietly, she added, “I don’t know.”
She grabbed her keys from his hand and pecked a kiss on his cheek. Still in shock, he didn’t move as she ran a hand through his hair, an almost wistful expression on her face.
“I’ll text you when I’m ready to talk,” she said, leaving the car without a backward glance.
Leaving Tucker wondering what exactly went wrong—and if he had any hope of fixing it.