Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Jax
“Thank goodness for the holidays to finally get you to spend some time with us, huh?” Mom gives me a teasing smile as she sets down the hand mixer and wraps an arm around me.
“I’m trying to take on more responsibility at the bar. I told you it might take up a little more of my time.”
She arches a brow. “Don’t lie to your mother. I know you’ve been spending more time at Copper Hill than the bar.”
“Yeah, I like the work, and Lauren could really use the help.” I busy myself with grabbing plates and silverware to set the table.
“With Austin gone now, the weight of running things has fallen on her. I know her parents help out as much as they can, but they were already helping before, so she’s still down a person. ”
“That’s awfully nice of you.” Aunt Carol comes into the room, sitting at the kitchen island with a glass of water.
Mom joins her sister on the other barstool, and I eye them suspiciously. “Why do I feel like you’re about to have an intervention?”
They exchange a glance and tilt their heads back in laughter.
“Yup, this definitely doesn’t feel right.” I glide to the dining room table, which is in the open area next to the kitchen.
“Oh, stop it!” Mom rolls her eyes. “We’re just trying to take advantage of our time together to see what’s going on in your life. I fed you, bathed you, and clothed you, and now I get nothing.”
“I did a lot of that too,” Aunt Carol chimes in.
“I hate it when you two gang up on me, which in case you haven’t noticed, is all the time.” I set a fork down. “And you wonder why I’m not here more often.”
“Just tell us what’s going on. It’s Thanksgiving. I want something to be thankful for.” Aunt Carol presses her hands together in a way that can only be described as diabolical.
“How about the turkey in the oven or the sides Mom spent all day prepping?”
“Come on!” Mom pleads. “We just want to know what you’ve been up to. Is something happening with you and Lauren?”
“You wish!” I scoff, but something on my face must be a giveaway because they devolve into giggles.
I roll my eyes, setting the last of the silverware on the table and disappearing into the living room to watch the end of the Cowboys game.
There’s a part of me that wants to talk to them and get their advice, but the even bigger part knows better than to open that can of worms. Since I intervened at dance lessons the other night, things have been tense between Lauren and me.
We’ve been tiptoeing around one another, unsure how to act and desperately trying to get a read on one another.
I wanted to tell her how I feel. I think she might be ready for that, but I’m terrified I’m not.
My one-night stands haven’t exactly turned me into a relationship guy, which only reminds me that there’s a reason I’ve never been in one before.
Everyone around me knows the truth. My mom and Aunt Carol have drilled into me how terrible the Carter men are.
When we came to Roots, I had hoped changing my last name to match my mom’s would be enough to distance me from the terrible legacy the Carters have left, but even my closest friend has told me I’m not enough.
I can’t even imagine what Charlie would think if he found out—
Beep! Beep! Beep! The sound of the smoke detector screeching throughout the house pulls me from my thoughts.
I leap from the couch, searching for the cause, but it doesn’t take long to spot the big black cloud billowing from the oven.
Aunt Carol pulls a charred turkey out of it, and Mom grabs the burnt stuffing out after her, fanning the smoke.
“Well, I guess we’re going out for dinner tonight.
” There’s defeat in Aunt Carol’s voice. I can’t blame her.
Mom has always cooked the turkey because she’s been so busy with Resilient Paws, the dog rescue she runs right in her backyard.
This year, she had time to help prepare dinner because of all the work Olivia has been stepping in to help with, but her attempt clearly failed.
Unable to refrain, I snap a picture of the crusty turkey and send it to Lauren.
Me
Do you know where all the failed turkey chefs go to eat on Thanksgiving?
I instantly regret sending the text. I’m not sure this is the way to break our recent bout of tension, but to my surprise, she immediately responds. Maybe we needed something light-hearted to get our relationship back on track.
Lauren
Oh no! Maybe there’s a Bucc-ee’s open?
Me
We aren’t getting Thanksgiving dinner from a gas station
Hey! You could do much worse than Bucc-ee’s!
I can’t hold in my laughter. She’s not wrong.
Texas’s most infamous gas station has everything from refrigerator magnets to swimsuits as well as a vast selection of food, which isn’t half bad.
I used to beg my mom to take me to Bucc-ee’s for a brisket sandwich and an Icee, but the nearest one is easily an hour away, so I was often unsuccessful.
“What’re you smiling about? Dinner’s ruined,” Aunt Carol sasses as Mom tries to look over my shoulder.
I pull my phone tightly toward my chest, but another text vibrates.
“Oh, I bet he’s texting Lauren!” Her smile is radiant, and it surprises me. I wouldn’t expect the same woman who told me all Carter men are scum to be the one who supports me having a relationship with someone she likes as much as Lauren.
Lauren
Dad just pulled the brisket off the smoker. It still needs another 30 mins to rest and as usual he made way too much. Y’all should come over
“How do you two feel about Thanksgiving brisket at the Rhodes’?”
“I don’t care where or what we eat. I’ll take anything besides this burnt turkey.” Aunt Carol throws down her oven mitt on the counter, grabbing her coat and heading toward the front door without further discussion.
“How about we play a few games of poker to round out the night?” Mr. Rhodes offers as we finish cleaning up after our spectacular dinner. I don’t understand how he could spend so long making that delicious brisket and not even eat it for dinner tonight.
“I don’t know, Dad. You get a little excited when you play.” Lauren pins him with a look.
“Come on. It’s Thanksgiving! I want to play poker with my family, like we always do. I’m not ready to give up everything I love in life.”
I look between him and his daughter, noting the sudden shift, but Mr. Rhodes simply claps his hands together and presses on a smile. “Are you three in for a game?”
I glance at Mom, weary. Growing up, poker wasn’t something I learned how to play. In our house, it wasn’t just a game. It was a trigger for a cascade of darkness.
Mom gives me a gentle nod before she says, “Sure. It’s been a while since I’ve played a hand, so you’ll have to remind me of the rules.”
At her words, Mr. Rhodes’s face fills with joy. Grabbing a deck of cards, he takes his spot back at the dinner table, explaining as he shuffles.
My stomach churns as the cards feather together in his hands.
Sweat beads on my palms, and as I brush them off on my jeans, I try to remind myself I’m safe.
My dad isn’t here to hurt us, and I’m not my father.
I don’t need to ruin their tradition just because of things that happened years ago.
A few games of poker can’t hurt, especially the way the Rhodes family plays it.
It’s the most innocent version out there.
They use chips to place bets, but they never actually put any money on the line.
For them, the only reward in the game is the pride of winning.
We make it a full time around the table before anyone folds, but once it starts, everything unravels quickly.
“I fold.” Mrs. Rhodes groans, setting her cards down.
Lauren nudges her mom in the side, whispering something to her that makes the two of them laugh.
Nana Rhodes assesses her cards with pursed lips before sighing. “I suppose I’m out too.”
We make it around the table once more, upping the bets by what would be the equivalent of fifty dollars in chips before Mom folds.
Nana Rhodes picks up her cards to peek. “Oh, Aimee, you should’ve folded when I did with a hand like that.”
Mom tugs the cards back with a frown. “It’s called bluffing, and you’re not supposed to look at my cards without my permission!”
Aunt Carol snickers as she snatches the cards up next.
“What are you laughing at?” Mom frowns at her sister. “You folded before the rest of us. At least pretend you have a good hand once in a while.”
Lauren rolls her lips, like she’s trying to hide a smirk, and I can’t tell if it’s because of the hand she has or the banter at the table. It’s been like this all night. It feels good to be surrounded by such a loving group of people.
Raising a brow in my direction, Lauren tosses in two chips. “You ready to give up yet?”
“Nope.” I actually have a decent hand.
Mr. Rhodes assesses Lauren, narrowing his eyes at her as she does the same. Finally, he tosses two poker chips on the table to match her bet. “I’m calling you, darlin’. Show me what you’ve got.”
She leaps out of her chair, cheering, without even showing us her cards.
“Hold on a second! You can’t celebrate if you haven’t shown us your cards.” He bolts up from the table, reaching out for her hand.
Lauren snatches them up before he does but then holds them out for everyone to see. “Read ’em and weep. A royal flush, which means I definitely won.”
“Well, shit. I thought I had this one in the bag. You just robbed me of everything I had. I can’t believe it!
” Mr. Rhodes’s bewilderment quickly turns to pride as he kisses his daughter on the head, but the shift in his mood comes too late.
His words are like picking at a scab I didn’t even realize I still had.
I’m not in the safety of the Rhodes’s family dining room anymore.
I’m back in Oklahoma in that rickety house I spent the first fifteen years of my life in.
Dad is barging through the front door, a glassy look in his eyes that only ever indicated terrible things to come.
“Shit! I thought I had that one in the bag. I was completely robbed! They took everything I had.” He slams down the open bottle of booze in his hand, and I try to dart to the safety of my bedroom before he notices I’m here, before he has the chance to take out his rage on me.
Lauren’s hand on my arm brings me back. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”