Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Are you sure there is nothing I can do to help?” Logan handed me a glass of wine and told me to sit and relax earlier.
I’m pretty sure he just wants me to get out of his way, and I’m happy to oblige.
I have no problem sitting here on a stool at his island watching this handsome man cook.
The sleeves of his flannel are rolled to his elbows showcasing the tattoos, corded muscle and veins running the length of his forearms, distressed jeans tight enough to hug his sculpted ass – holy fuck he is irresistible.
Even the dish towel casually thrown over his shoulder adds to the allure.
“No, I’m good. Just enjoy your wine.” He smiles, glancing back at me as he washes the dishes and places them in the drain tray.
When he claimed he knew how to cook, he wasn’t kidding. No more girl dinners for me; he has been keeping me very well fed. The kitchen is filled with the mouthwatering scent of thyme, sage and rosemary from the roasted turkey. I can’t wait to sample it.
He put me in charge of decorating, and I took the challenge very seriously, choosing a traditional combination of plaid, greenery, and tiny pumpkins. I even found a mishmash of vintage dishes from the thrift store for the occasion. It’s a vibe and I love it.
Now we are just waiting for our guests to arrive. I have never hosted anything with a partner before, and it feels pleasantly domestic of us. Hopefully, tonight is successful, and we can do it again soon.
Three soft knocks sound at the side door followed by a small voice calling, “Auntie Hannah, I’m here!”
Smiling, I set my glass down and walk towards the door.
“Who’s here?” I call back. Peeking low around the corner, I see Ben’s tiny hand holding on to Riot’s much larger one.
When he sees me, he squeals and runs into my embrace.
“It’s me, Ben. I brought my mommy and Uncle Riot with me. I came to see the little men.”
“The little men, eh? I thought you were coming to have dinner with me.” Pouting, I lift and adjust him on my hip. He’s getting so big I wish time would slow down a little.
Squishing my cheeks in his palms, he looks me in the eyes with seriousness. “I came to see you first, but I need to meet the little men who live outside too. It’s very important.”
“By all means go.” I kiss him on the top of his head, drop him down to the floor and send him back out the door towards the fenced backyard.
“Five minutes, Ben,” his mom calls after him, “then you need to come inside and wash up for dinner.”
“I’ll go with him.” Riot patiently waits for Claire to kick off her boots and drop her backpack. She smiles affectionately as he hands her a covered casserole dish. Looking at me, he grins. “Thanks for having us, Hannah.”
Claire nods in agreement. “Yes, thank you, Ben has been talking about coming for days.”
“To see the little men of course?” I say, nodding my head, knowingly.
“Obviously. You can expect a lot of questions.” Rolling her eyes, she laughs and continues through the mudroom into the kitchen to handoff their prepared dish.
“We can refer all gnome related questions to Logan. He is the resident expert,” I call after her with a snort.
“I am not,” he hollers back. “They are unwanted tenants, and I can’t even evict them.”
Shaking my head with amusement, I’m just about to close the door when I see Meg enter the yard alone.
I step further out onto the deck as she looks up.
Meeting my eyes, she subtly shakes her head before looking down to the ground.
I can see disappointment all over her face.
When she reaches the top of the stairs, I take her bag from her and set it on the garden bench.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” I whisper into her auburn hair as I pull her into an embrace.
“Me too.” She squeezes me tight before stepping back. Her red rimmed eyes break my heart. Lifting the bag in the air, she fakes a smile, and says, “I made a couple of pies. I know you love pumpkin, and I made blackberry crumble as well.”
“Awesome, I can’t wait. Do you think anyone would notice if I ate dessert first?” I question, tapping my finger to my lips.
“Ben absolutely would and then you would have to answer to his mother. I don’t advise it.”
“Fair point.” Tilting my head in the direction of the door, I tell her, “Logan and Claire are in the kitchen. They can hook you up with a glass of wine.”
“Wine sounds amazing right now.” She smiles weakly before entering the house.
Taking a moment to myself, I stand outside in my wool socks.
Coloured leaves litter the ground, and the evening air has cooled.
I can smell a hint of smoke in the air. Wrapping my cardigan tighter around me, I watch Riot as he chases a giggling Ben around the yard – an equally excited Morgan joining the fun.
This house deserves a family. Where the fuck did that come from?
It’s way too soon to be thinking about having a family.
We have only been back together for a minute.
“I’ve lived here for years, and I still don’t understand why Canadian Thanksgiving is in October.” Frozen in place, I can hear Beck talking before I can see her.
“The fall harvest happens earlier in Canada because it’s colder here. The entire point of Thanksgiving is to give thanks for the food provided,” Ryan answers her patiently as they round the side of the house.
“Huh, why didn’t I know that?” Her black curtain bangs fall over her face as she nods her head with understanding. Ryan reaches out and curls a wisp behind her ear with a familiarity I have never seen before between them.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “Did you guys come together?”
Startled, they both look up and quickly step away from each other. “No,” they answer at the same time.
“Look, I brought food!” Beck says quickly, raising a large fabric bag with black cats on it, high in the air. Good deflection, but I will be asking her about this later. “In full transparency I did not make it alone, Aunt Maggie helped.”
“It’s because she doesn’t trust you alone in her kitchen,” Ryan mumbles under his breath as Beck whips her head around to scowl at him.
Clapping my hands together, I say, “Okay. You will find everyone between the yard and kitchen. Help yourself to something to drink. Everything is ready so I imagine we will be eating as soon as Carson gets here. I’m surprised he isn’t here yet.”
“He texted me earlier and said he’s running behind, but he will be here soon. Ollie goat broke out of her pen again this afternoon.” Ryan holds up his phone before shoving it back into his jeans pocket.
“That goat is a menace.” Beck laughs, her long skirt twirling as she spins and continues towards the house.
Turning back to Ryan, I catch him watching my friend walk away. “Is there something you need to tell me, Ryan?”
“Nope,” he says, shaking his head and avoiding the question. “I better take this food inside so it can stay warm in the oven.”
By the time Carson arrives, the house is humming with conversation and laughter. Country music plays quietly from the living room where Ben is building a Lego set that Beck bought him.
“I made bread!” he announces proudly as he holds two loaves of artisan bread in the air.
I watch quietly as Meg takes the bread from him and brings it to the counter to slice. “You made this?” she questions.
“I sure did,” he beams proudly. “I have been successfully keeping my nana’s sour dough starter alive since she moved into the long-term care facility last year.
Her name is Bella. The starter, not Nana.
Her name is Cathy,” he rambles on excitedly.
“Anyways, this bread is tricky to make, lots of stretch and folds and waiting, but I think I finally have it mastered,” he explains, miming the movements beside her on the counter.
“Wow. I had no idea,” Meg says, tilting her head as she looks at Carson.
“Trust me, there is a lot of things you don’t know about me, beautiful. First one is, I’m very patient.” He winks before carrying the bread to the table. Leaning with both hands braced on the counter behind her, she looks over at me beside her with wide eyes.
Ducking her head, she whispers, “Was he just flirting with me?” Her face is flushed, and she looks completely scandalized.
Patting her arm, I say, “He’s always flirting with you, Meg. You just haven’t been paying attention.”
Scrunching up her nose, she looks down at herself and back up to me. “But why? I’m old and married.”
How does she not see what the rest of us do?
“You are a beautiful woman, and you are only five years older than him. Remember when you said you’re married, not dead? It’s just harmless flirtation, enjoy it,” I say, leading her by the hand to the dining room where Carson has saved her a seat next to him.
Dishes have already been placed in the centre of the long harvest table.
Logan took the lead and organized who was bringing what and everything smells heavenly.
As I watch our chosen family fill their plates and break off into smaller conversations, Logan slides into the seat beside me.
Taking my hand in his, he places it on his thigh and squeezes it a couple of times. “Hi baby. Are you having a good time?”
“I am, thank you for doing this.” I lean further into his side, and he kisses the top of my head.
“It feels right, doesn’t it?” he whispers, beaming with joy.
“Yeah, it really does.” Leaning back, I peer into his loving brown eyes, and ask quietly, “Do you ever wonder if we were meant to go our separate ways so we could find each other again?”
“What do you mean?” His eyes narrow in confusion.
“I don’t know. Just how different our lives would have been if we stayed together, away at school and,” I trail off, knowing I don’t need to say the rest because he already knows. “I love this version of us and the people we have surrounded ourselves with.”