Chapter 15
Reese
My heart gallops as we stand at Jessica's door, Logan's hand warm against the small of my back.
This is my first time joining the hand-off ritual, and I've overthought everything from my casual-but-put-together outfit to how I'll greet Tyler without overwhelming him.
Logan knocks, his knuckles steady against the wood while my stomach performs Olympic-level gymnastics.
"Relax," he whispers, leaning close enough that I feel his breath on my ear.
"Tyler's been talking about today all week. He's excited you'll be there."
I nod, swallowing the knot in my throat. Before I can respond, the door swings open. Jessica stands there in jeans and a forest green sweater, her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. Her eyes flick over me before settling on Logan.
"You're early," she says, stepping back to let us in.
"Sorry. Traffic was light," Logan replies, his voice casual but his posture stiff.
From somewhere inside, Tyler shouts, "DADDY!" followed by the thunder of tiny feet. He barrels around the corner and launches himself at Logan's legs. Logan scoops him up effortlessly, and Tyler's laughter bubbles up pure and sweet.
"Hey, buddy! Ready for turkey day?" Logan asks, tickling Tyler's side.
"Uh-huh! And pie!" Tyler spots me standing slightly behind Logan and his face lights up. "Reese! You came!"
"I wouldn’t miss it!" I offer him a high five, which he slaps with enthusiasm before reaching for me. The weight of him transferring from Logan's arms to mine feels huge. He’s like a feather in Logan’s and a stone in mine.
Jessica moves efficiently around the apartment, gathering Tyler's things. "His backpack has extra clothes, his favorite book, and Fred." She zips up a small dinosaur-print backpack. "And his allergy medicine, just in case. No nuts, remember? And he's been fighting a cold, so if he seems tired—"
"I'll make sure he rests," Logan finishes. This isn't their first hand-off, but the tension between them crackles like static electricity.
I set Tyler down so he can say a proper goodbye to Jessica. He bounces in place.
"Be good for Daddy, okay?" She smooths his hair, her touch lingering. "I'll pick you up at five. That's after lunch and pie and a nap."
"I don't need a nap! I'm big!"
Jessica's mouth twitches. "We'll see about that." She kisses his forehead, then stands. "Five o'clock, Logan. Call if anything comes up."
"We will." Logan takes Tyler's hand. "Ready, champ?"
Tyler nods, already tugging Logan toward the door. I follow, catching Jessica's eye as I pass.
"Happy Thanksgiving," I offer.
She gives me a half-hearted smile. "You too."
The drive to Logan's is filled with Tyler's chatter about dinosaurs, Batman, and whether Santa knows where Daddy's house is. Logan answers each question with patience, occasionally catching my eye in the rearview mirror, his smile soft and private.
By the time we arrive at Logan's, Elena's already there, unpacking groceries in the kitchen. She waves a celery stalk like a conductor's baton when we walk in.
"The turkey whisperer has arrived! And look who's here!" She crouches down to Tyler's level. "Hey, Tyler! I’m Eleana. I’m Reese’s best friend. Ready to help us make the best Thanksgiving dinner ever?"
Tyler nods solemnly. "I'm a good helper. I help Mama stir."
"Perfect! We need a good stirrer."
The apartment smells amazing—roasting turkey, onions sautéing, the sweet scent of something baking. I shed my coat, rolling up my sleeves.
"Put me to work," I tell Elena, moving to wash my hands.
Logan sets Tyler up with crayons and paper at the kitchen island and asks me if he can go to change. Elena hands me a knife and a pile of carrots.
"So," she says quietly, "first holiday with the boyfriend and his son. How are you feeling?"
I start chopping. "Good. I think. I’m, you know…it’s an adventure. He’s such a sweet little guy."
She laughs, stirring something in a large pot. "I do know. When Dad invited Nate to our family Christmas last year, I nearly had a panic attack. But it ended up being perfect. He fit right in. Gave my old man the business even though he’s his coach. Dad actually respects him in a new way now."
The doorbell rings, and Elena peeks toward the foyer. "Speaking of my favorite troublemaker..."
Nate strides in, bringing a blast of cold air and his signature cocky grin. He drops a kiss on Elena's lips, then gives me a side hug.
"Happy Turkey Day, Teacher Lady," he says. "Where's the mini-McCoy?"
As if summoned, Tyler looks up from his drawing. "I'm right here! I'm not mini! I'm THREE!"
Nate laughs. "Three? No way. I thought you were at least twenty!"
Tyler dissolves into giggles. "Nooooo! I'm three! See?" He holds up three fingers.
Logan returns wearing a v-neck cashmere sweater that hugs his broad shoulders in a way that momentarily distracts me from chopping. He claps Nate on the back, then scoops Tyler off his stool.
"Who wants to play mini-sticks in the living room?" he asks, already carrying Tyler away.
"Me! Me!" Tyler shrieks.
"Use the foam puck, Logan!" I call after them. The apartment might be childproofed, but I'm not sure it's hockey-proofed.
Elena bumps my hip with hers. "Look at you, all mom-voice."
"Shut up," I mutter, feeling my cheeks heat.
From the living room comes the sound of furniture moving, followed by Tyler's delighted squeals. I peek around the corner to see Logan and Nate on their knees, using their little sticks, while Tyler tries to get a foam puck past them and into a makeshift goal created from couch cushions.
"Goal!" Tyler screams, throwing both arms in the air when he scores. Logan falls dramatically onto his back.
"The kid's got skills," Nate says, looking impressed. "Future first-round draft pick right there."
The doorbell rings again. This time it's Sully, silver-haired and distinguished in a cable-knit sweater, bearing a pumpkin pie and a bottle of expensive bourbon.
"Where's the little guy I've heard so much about?" he asks, barely through the door.
Tyler appears as if by magic, eyeing Sully with open curiosity. "Are you the best hockey player?"
Sully's laugh is warm and genuine. "I used to be. Now I just tell these knuckleheads how it's done." He crouches, offering Tyler his hand. "I'm Matthew, but my friends call me Sully."
Tyler's small hand disappears into Sully's large one. "I'm Tyler. I'm three."
"Three is a very important age," Sully agrees solemnly. "That's when I got my first pair of skates."
Tyler's eyes widen. "I want skates!"
"I heard Santa might be thinking about that," Sully winks at Logan over Tyler's head.
More doorbell rings follow—teammates bearing casseroles, beer, and loud laughter. The apartment fills with voices, the smell of food, the clinking of glasses. Tuck hands over his famous mac and cheese. Petey arrives with his girlfriend and a sweet potato something covered in marshmallows.
Tyler gravitates toward Sully almost immediately, climbing onto his lap at the dining table where Sully's settled with a slice of pie.
"Can I have some?" Tyler asks, eyeing the pie.
"Well now," Sully pretends to consider. "I suppose one bite wouldn't hurt. Don't tell your dad." He offers a forkful, and Tyler opens his mouth like a baby bird.
"Good?" Sully asks.
Tyler nods, pumpkin filling smeared across his chin. "More?"
"Sully, are you corrupting my son already?" Logan asks, appearing behind them with a beer in hand.
"Just making sure the pie's safe for consumption," Sully says with a wink.
Conversation flows as we all gather around the table, dishes passed hand to hand, glasses filled and refilled.
Tyler sits on a booster seat between Logan and me, his plate a carefully arranged balance of turkey, mashed potatoes, and the tiniest serving of green beans that he keeps pushing around but not eating.
"Tyler, try one bean," I suggest. "Just one."
He eyes me suspiciously, then spears a single green bean with his fork. He chews it with exaggerated difficulty, then swallows. "There! Can I have more pie now?"
The table erupts in laughter. Elena catches my eye across the table and mouths, "Told you so."
During a lull in the conversation, Tyler points his fork at me, a piece of turkey still speared on the end. "That's my bonus mommy!"
The table goes quiet. I freeze, fork halfway to my mouth. Logan's hand finds mine under the table, squeezing tight.
"Is that right?" Sully asks, his voice gentle.
Tyler nods, matter-of-fact. "Uh-huh. Daddy said she's not replacing Mommy, she's a bonus. And bonuses are good!"
Warmth spreads through the room as everyone smiles, some exchanging glances, others nodding in approval. Logan's thumb traces circles on my palm, and I have to blink rapidly to keep tears at bay.
"Bonuses are very good," Sully agrees, raising his glass slightly in my direction.
All too soon, the clock edges toward five. The doorbell's chime brings a subtle tension back into the room. Logan answers it, and Jessica steps inside, her smile polite but reserved as she takes in the gathering.
"Mommy!" Tyler runs to her, cranberry-stained shirt and all. "We had pie and hockey and Sully gave me EXTRA pie when Daddy wasn't looking!"
Jessica raises an eyebrow. "Did he now?"
Sully raises his hands in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged."
I gather Tyler's things—his backpack, a drawing he made for Jessica, the dinosaur toy he brought with him. When I hand them to him, his small arms wrap around my waist.
"Bye, bonus Reese! See you soon!"
"See you soon, sweetie," I manage, my voice thick.
Jessica nods to the room, her eyes lingering on me for a moment. "Thanks for having him. Looks like he had a great time."
"Thank you for letting him spend today with me" Logan says, and I hear the sincerity behind the politeness.
As the door closes behind them, I feel the absence of Tyler's energy like a physical thing. Logan's arm slides around my waist, anchoring me.
"You okay?" he asks quietly.