Chapter 11 #2
“Surprise,” Jack says, looking at the rest of us over Chloe’s head, wearing that grin that’s gotten him out of trouble his entire life. “Thought we’d crash the party. Hope that’s okay.”
“I thought you were in California!” Maren pulls back from Lark to look at both of them, her hands still gripping Lark’s arms like she might disappear. “You said you were doing Thanksgiving with your family!”
Lark’s practically bouncing. “We did early Thanksgiving three days ago because my parents are flying to Mexico tomorrow for my cousin’s birthday. It’s this whole thing. So we celebrated early and Jack and I figured, why not surprise everyone?”
“Best surprise ever,” Maren says, pulling her into another hug. “Best surprise in the history of surprises.”
Calvin moves over to clap Jack on the back, grinning wide. Alex has abandoned the gravy entirely to join the chaos, wiping his hands on his apron. Dominic’s standing back with his arms crossed, looking enormously satisfied with himself.
I walk over to my youngest brother and he sets Chloe down—though she immediately attaches herself to his leg like a barnacle—and pulls me into a tight hug.
“Missed you, man,” he says into my shoulder.
We’ve barely talked over the past few months. Just quick texts here and there, squeezed between his race schedule and time zone differences and the general chaos of our respective lives. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him until right now.
“I missed you too.” I clap his back hard, then step back to look at him properly. “You look good, Jack. Looks like life is treating you well.”
He glances over at Lark, who’s still wrapped up with Maren, and his whole face softens. “Yeah. It’s been better than I ever could have imagined.”
I smile at that, and we all migrate back toward the kitchen in a chaotic group, everyone talking over each other, voices overlapping.
Dom starts opening beers for everyone, passing them around.
Maren’s already peppering Jack and Lark with questions about Monaco, about the racing season that just ended, about Lark’s music career and the album she’s been working on.
Jack leans against the counter next to me while Chloe hangs off his other arm like a barnacle that’s found its permanent home. He catches us up properly on everything that’s been happening.
“The season went well,” he says. “The car’s been performing better than expected, and it looks like we have a real shot at the championship next year. Potentially a driver’s championship, which I’m sure Luca and I will have fun battling out.”
“Oooh,” Chloe says, tugging on his arm. “Does that mean we can come to more races?” She looks back at me with those hopeful eyes that make it impossible to say no to anything.
“Sounds like we’re gonna have to, huh?” I ruffle her hair and she beams up at me.
“You better,” Jack says to her. “You’re my little good luck charm. I need you in the stands cheering me on.” She squeals, and he laughs, scooping her back up.
Lark appears at Jack’s side, leaning into him comfortably. “And we finally finished the spare bedroom, so it’s easier for you guys to come stay. Now that the tour’s wrapped, I actually have some free time.” She pauses. “Well, kind of. Sort of. Theoretically.”
Maren laughs. “How’s the album coming?”
“Really good,” Lark says, and she’s practically glowing. They both are, actually, and I’m thrilled for them, for the life they’re building together. I ignore the brief thought of Emma that flickers through my mind.
“It’s so much fun working with this production team,” Lark continues, her excitement contagious. “I mean, we’re still early on in the new album, but I’m having an absolute blast.” She looks up at Jack with a smile, who presses a kiss to the top of her head.
“Oh! Almost forgot.” Jack sets Chloe down and digs into the bag he dropped by the door. He pulls out a mini racing helmet with the official Ferrari logo, and across the back in sparkly pink letters: CHLOE M. - JUNIOR PIT CREW.
“Is that real?” Chloe whispers, like she’s afraid speaking too loud might make it disappear.
“Custom made,” Jack says. “You’re officially on the team now.”
She takes it from him with trembling hands, stares at it for exactly two seconds, then jams it onto her head. It’s too big and slides down over her eyes immediately, but she just tilts her chin up so she can see out from under the rim and announces, “I’m never taking this off.”
Jack catches my eye over her head and winks. Favorite uncle status secured for another year at least.
After dinner, we migrate to the deck as the sky goes fully dark and the first stars start appearing overhead. The morning’s drizzle cleared hours ago, but the chairs are still beaded with moisture, so we grab towels and wipe them down before settling in.
It’s cold out, a sharp November cold, but between the fire pit table and the outdoor heaters I invested in last year, we’re plenty warm. Hot toddies help too. Maren’s recipe, heavy on the whiskey.
Chloe’s running around with sparklers that Lark brought, making wild patterns in the dark while Laila chases after her.
Maren’s pulled her chair right up next to Lark’s, and they’re still deep in conversation.
Someone’s phone is playing music low in the background, something melodic that Lark probably picked.
Calvin’s next to me, nursing his hot toddy. Jack and Alex have been thick as thieves all night, feeding off each other’s energy the way they always have. The two youngest, roommates until Jack left for racing, and the reason Mom started locking the liquor cabinet when they were fourteen.
Between them they hold the family records for groundings, broken bones, and times someone had to be picked up from the principal’s office.
Right now they’re both watching Dom with the kind of coordinated focus that never leads anywhere good, while Dom scrolls through his phone and pretends not to notice.
“Dominic, you never shared what happened earlier this week,” Alex says, glancing at Jack with that smile that means trouble.
“Oh?” Jack perks up immediately. “What happened earlier this week?”
Dom doesn’t look up from his phone. “I know what you’re referring to, and it’s not interesting.”
“A woman asked Dominic out on a date,” Alex announces to the group. “Right next to me while we were working out. Really pretty, too. He told her he was too busy.”
“That’s because I am too busy, and I’m perfectly fine on my own, thanks,” Dom says, still scrolling through his phone with the measured patience of an oldest sibling who has spent his entire life dealing with exactly this kind of nonsense.
Alex laughs. “Come on, man, I’m not saying you have to marry her. I’m just saying it might loosen up that stick you’ve got permanently lodged up your ass.”
I glance at Calvin, who catches my eye and grins. We’re both watching the whole thing with the same quiet amusement.
“You’re single, too,” Dom points out, finally glancing up at Alex.
“Yeah, but I date,” Alex says. “I go out, I meet people, I have a social life outside of work and the gym.”
“I like the gym,” Dom says. “I like home. I like my routine.”
“Wow, you should put that on a dating profile,” Jack laughs. “‘Likes routine. Seeks a woman who won’t disrupt it.’ Very romantic.”
Dominic glances over at Calvin and me. “Any backup here?”
I exchange a look with Calvin and we both shake our heads. “Nah, you can handle it. Besides, it keeps you sharp, battling it out with the terrible twosome over there.”
Dom rolls his eyes.
“Relax, Dom,” Alex says cheerfully. “We’ll let it go. For now at least. But I’m revisiting this at Christmas.”
“Can’t wait,” Dom says, and there’s the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
I lean back in my chair and let the moment settle over me. This is everything I wanted. My family here in my home, on this property I’ve poured years into building. Everything I worked for, everything I planned and executed and made real with my own two hands.
And still, something’s missing. Someone maybe.
“I’m going to grab more drinks,” I say. “Any requests?”
A chorus of requests follows. More hot toddies. Another beer for Dom. More of the apple cider Chloe’s been nursing all night, the fancy kind from the orchard outside town.
I head inside, the warmth of the house hitting me as I step through the back door.
The kitchen still smells like turkey and sage and all the good things from dinner.
I pull out the whisky Maren brought for the hot toddies, the good stuff from The Black Lantern she always knows how to pick, and line up the honey and lemons on the counter.
I hear footsteps behind me and turn to see Calvin coming through the door, letting it close softly behind him.
“Thought you could use a hand,” he says.
“Sure.” I grab a few mugs from the cabinet. “You’re on lemon duty.”
He moves to the cutting board and starts slicing, and for a few minutes we work in comfortable silence.
The kind that comes from a lifetime of being brothers, of knowing each other well enough that words aren’t always necessary.
Through the window I can see the fire pit, everyone’s faces lit by the glow.
“So,” Calvin says, not looking up from the lemons. “Emma Hayes.”
I nearly drop the whisky bottle. “What about her?”
“Just figuring that’s what’s got you distracted tonight.” He keeps slicing. “Maren and I thought we picked up on something at the festival. Honestly, Maren noticed it before that, when you two were at the Black Lantern.” He pauses. “Everything alright?”
I focus on pouring whisky into mugs.
“For the record,” he continues, “we think Emma’s great. Maren adores her.”
“I know she’s great.” I sigh. “That’s not the issue.”
“Then what is?” Calvin leans against the counter, watching me. “You know, you gave up hockey to be responsible. Remember that?”
I blink at the completely random pivot. “Are you having a stroke? What does that have to do with anything?”
He laughs. “Bear with me. I’m a pretentious writer. We take the scenic route.”
I snort and gesture for him to continue, reaching for the honey.
“You didn’t pursue hockey when you were younger, despite being good at it, despite loving it—“
“I wasn’t good enough to go pro—“
“That’s the excuse you told yourself. But you loved it, and you walked away because staying felt like the responsible choice.
” Calvin’s voice is firm. “You stayed close to home after Dad died. Helped out with everything. Did the responsible thing, both you and Dominic did, even when I ran off to college.”
“You didn’t run off.” I know Calvin’s always carried guilt about leaving when he did, about not being here when things got hard.
“I appreciate it, but I’m not trying to rehash all that.
” He picks up the knife again, quarters another lemon.
“I’m just saying you’ve always been like this, Theo.
Taking care of Mom when she got sick. Marrying Victoria because you thought it was the honorable thing to do when her uptight family found out you two were sleeping together. ”
I focus on stirring honey into the mugs, watching it dissolve into the whisky.
“Out of all of us,” Calvin continues, “you’ve always been the one taking care of everyone else. The restaurant, Chloe, making sure everything runs smoothly. Hosting Thanksgivings. Making sure everyone else is okay before you even think about yourself.”
My jaw tightens. “I have Chloe. I have to be that guy.”
“I know. But I’ve seen how much Chloe adores Emma. How much Emma adores her right back.” Calvin sets down the knife and turns to face me. “We saw it at the festival. She’s already part of Chloe’s world, Theo. The only question is what you’re going to do about it.”
I stare out the window toward the fire pit. Chloe’s laughing at something Jack said, her whole body shaking with it. The helmet’s back on her head, too big and ridiculous. She’s waving her sparkler in wild patterns, the light catching her delighted face.
“I don’t want to mess this up,” I say quietly. “For Chloe. For anyone. If I pursue this and it falls apart, Chloe loses someone else she cares about.” I set down the honey jar, bracing my hands on the counter. “Not to mention the age difference. She won’t be Chloe’s teacher next year, but still.”
“You’re looking at this all wrong.” Calvin moves to stand beside me, both of us watching our family through the window.
“You keep saying what if Chloe loses someone. But what if she gains someone? What if it works? Instead of asking, ‘what could go wrong?’ what if you tried asking, ‘what could go right?’” He pauses, letting that hang there, then continues.
“And for what it’s worth, Emma has her life more together at twenty-four than any of us did.
She’s not some kid, Theo. And from what I’ve seen, she’s interested in you. ”
I don’t respond to that. I’m not sure how to.
“The restaurant’s thriving,” he says. “You’ve got financial security, an incredible house, a daughter who’s happy and healthy and surrounded by people who love her.
You’ve done everything right. You’re the best guy any of us know.
” He pauses. “Maybe it’s time to stop being so careful and actually go after something for yourself. ”
I stay quiet, staring out at the fire pit. Chloe’s sparkler fizzles out and she runs to Lark for another one.
“Just think about it.” Calvin claps me on the shoulder, grabs a couple of the finished hot toddies, and heads back outside.
The door closes behind him and I’m alone in the warm kitchen, drinks still left to make, the question he asked still hanging in the air. What if I asked, what could go right?
I stay there for a long moment, watching through the window.
Jack has Chloe on his shoulders now, her legs dangling over his chest, and she’s waving the burned-out sparkler like a sword while declaring herself queen of the backyard.
Maren’s laughing so hard at something Lark said that she’s wiping tears from her eyes.
Alex and Dom look like they’re bickering about the Seahawks, but they’re both smiling, the argument more about the pleasure of disagreeing than any real conflict.
I’ve always prided myself on doing the right thing. I’ve been telling myself that staying away from Emma is the mature decision, the honorable one. But maybe honor doesn’t have anything to do with it. Maybe I’m just scared of what happens if I actually let myself have what I want.