Chapter 7
Cole
Thanksgiving morning meant my mother’s kitchen was already running at full speed by the time I pulled into the driveway.
The street was lined with cars that probably belonged to guests of the neighbors, and one muddy SUV that belonged to my cousin Pete.
By the time I reached the side entrance, I could smell turkey roasting in the oven.
“You’re late,” Mom chastised as I stepped into the mudroom.
“By ten minutes.” I tugged off my boots and lined them up so she wouldn’t remind me.
“Ten minutes is still late. Your sister’s been helping since eight.”
It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving if Mom didn’t clock me the second I walked in. It wasn’t that I was “late” but more that she was stressed about everything it took to make our dinner perfect.
In the kitchen, my sister Lauren had her sleeves pushed to her elbows and flour on her cheek. Eliza, her daughter, stood on a stool beside her, apparently more interested in baking than playing with her twin cousins who were in the backyard.
“Uncle Cole!” She lifted the spoon high. “Taste this.”
I leaned against the counter. “What’ve you got there?”
“It’s for the pumpkin pie.”
I took a small taste. “Not bad.”
Eliza lit up. “It’s so yummy.”
Lauren shook her head, though the corner of her mouth tugged up into a grin. “She’s supposed to be helping, not eating half the bowl.”
“Tasting counts as helping,” Eliza tried.
I wiped the dot of filling off her tiny nose with a dish towel. “It does. Now back to work, Chef.”
From the living room, Dad barked at the TV. “That’s holding.”
Mark came in right behind with, “Throw the flag,” like the referees could hear him through the screen.
Mom checked a pan on the stove that looked like some sort of cheese mixture. “The dining table needs an extra leaf. Help me for a second so I can set the table before you watch football?”
“Of course.”
We walked over to the table and stood at opposite ends. After we pulled the tabletop apart, I grabbed the leaf from the hall closet and then placed it into the gap. We slid the sides in and my mom draped a festive runner with rustic looking pumpkins on it down the middle.
“I already heard what your father thought about the inn yesterday,” she remarked. “What about you?”
“Rough.” I latched the underside of the leaf to the other pieces of the table. “But not hopeless.”
“And you think you can take some of it on?”
“Small things, yeah. I can handle the electrical too, but they’ll probably need a new roof, and maybe some plumbing work too.”
“You liked the new owner?”
“He seemed nice and asked good questions.”
She adjusted the runner. “At least he’s curious enough to see what needs to be done. It’s more than Mr. Price ever did, and having a vacation destination again will be good for our small town.”
“Yeah, but that also means more people at the lake.”
“True.” She started for the kitchen. “But that could also mean some pretty girls for you to meet.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Grab some more chairs, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Heading down to the basement, I found the chairs and then carried two up. My cousin Pete watched me as he leaned in the doorframe of the dining room with an olive between his fingers.
“Those are garnish,” Lauren warned as she walked by.
“Not anymore.” He popped it into his mouth and smirked.
The front door opened, and Aunt Nancy swept in. “Traffic through Concord was a nightmare. Half the state picked today to be on the road.”
Her husband Ray followed with two bottles of wine in his hands. “And every one of them tried to cut us off. Never again. Next year we’re leaving at six.”
Aunt Nancy and Uncle Ray moved to a condo in Concord last spring when Aunt Nancy retired from Cedar Falls High School.
Pete stepped out from the dining room, popping another olive into his mouth. “Took you long enough. The kids were starting to think you ditched us.”
Aunt Nancy kissed her son’s cheek on her way to the kitchen and we followed.
“If I had to sit in that mess much longer, I might have.” She pulled a bottle free from Uncle Ray’s grasp and set it down.
“I brought salvation. We’re opening this before dinner, because if I don’t get a glass in the next five minutes, someone’s getting strangled. ”
Lauren blew a piece of hair out of her eyes. “It’s not even noon.”
Aunt Nancy shrugged. “Exactly my point.”
Uncle Ray went to the living room to join my dad and Mark.
Mom slid a pan into the oven, wiped her hands on a towel, and didn’t miss a beat. “Pour me one too.”
Pete turned to me again. “I heard you took Mrs. Perkins’s granddaughter to coffee?”
My sister spun from the counter, the knife she’d used for slicing potatoes still in her hand. “Wait. You didn’t tell me you went on a date.”
“It wasn’t a date,” I argued.
“Coffee with Paige sounds like a date.” She planted her free hand on her hip. “Don’t even try to wiggle out of this.”
Aunt Nancy perked up, clearly delighted. “I’m listening.”
I blew out a breath. “I picked up Paige from the bus station and took her for coffee because Mrs. Perkins asked me to. Then I drove her to her grandmother’s house. That’s it.”
Pete grinned. “Sounds like a date to me.”
Lauren groaned. “You’re impossible. You could at least give me details before the entire town beats you to it.”
“First of all, Pete isn’t the whole town. Second, there aren’t any details to give,” I said flatly.
Aunt Nancy popped the cork on the wine. “Details or not, you two make a very handsome pair. I remember her from when I taught.”
Lauren shook her knife at me. “You’re not getting out of this, Cole. You went on a date.”
“Come on, man,” Pete pressed. “Paige Perkins? Half the guys in high school used to trip over themselves for her.”
“Good for them.” I grabbed a stack of napkins off the counter and lined them up—anything to keep my hands busy.
“So why not you?” Aunt Nancy poured wine into glasses. “She’s pretty, sweet, and from a good family. You could do worse.”
“I wasn’t aware this had turned into a matchmaking convention.”
“No one’s matchmaking.” Mom opened the oven to check on the turkey. “We just want to see you happy again.”
“I am happy.” The words came out sharper than I intended. It had been almost a year and a half since I’d been with anyone, and Paige wasn’t who I pictured changing that with. She lived in Boston, and I had no plans of ever going back.
Lauren’s brow furrowed. “You don’t have to marry the next girl you have coffee with. But you’ve been alone a long time.”
“I’m fine on my own.”
Pete tossed another olive into his mouth. “You say that, but fine isn’t the same as good.”
Eliza giggled from her stool. “Uncle Cole has a girlfriend.”
“I do not.”
She squealed with laughter, and the room joined in, everyone happy to make me the target.
Aunt Nancy leaned her elbows on the counter, clearly enjoying the show. “Even if you don’t want Paige, someone’s bound to catch your eye eventually.”
I reached for the open bottle of white wine on the counter and poured myself a glass. If this was how the rest of the day was going to go, I would need the wine or something stronger.