Chapter 2 Turkey Time
Turkey Time
The happy warmth that had been bursting through me turned to ice water.
I took an instinctive step back, mentally flipping through my stored emergency excuses before I high-tailed it out of here.
But Tom was standing behind me, and instead of fleeing, I bounced off his massive frame blocking my exit route.
I glanced at Teagan, who’d moved to stir the gravy while her mom said her hellos. She didn’t look at me—on purpose. My best friend was a backstabbing, conniving, manipulative little—
Sam Autry stepped through the door, his silhouette backlit by the golden autumn light behind him.
He looked like a movie star as he smiled from across the room, all white, sparkling teeth, his tanned hand running through his dark hair in that effortless way that had starred in so many of my teenage daydreams.
He was somehow even more beautiful than when we were kids.
At twenty-eight, he was fully a man, no longer a gangly college kid or awkward teen.
Broad shoulders. Tapered waist. His hair was slightly longer than it had been the last time I’d seen him, and his five o’clock shadow had turned into the sexiest dark scruff that highlighted his piercing green eyes and hid a dimple I knew only appeared at the rarest, most unexpected moments.
Like when I’d tripped him on purpose during a family basketball game because he was going to score the winning shot.
Or when Teagan and I had tried to jump off the side of the pool into our waiting inner tubes, and I’d somehow missed mine completely and landed on Teagan.
Or when he’d tucked my hair behind my ear so he could lean in and—
“Hi, Holly,” he said in his low baritone voice.
Well, what the hell was I supposed to say to that?
Something, though. I should say something to that.
But at the sight of Sam Autry, the verbal highway in my brain had suffered a thirty-car pileup, and I was unable to sift through the bloody wreckage for something coherent to say. Smoke was billowing. Helicopters were circling. Sirens were blaring.
Oh, my gosh, was I having a stroke? Say something, Holly.
But my mind wouldn’t cooperate with my mouth.
After having spent the last six years hating this guy and wishing I’d never wasted so much of my life pining after those piercing green eyes or drooling over the perfect structure of his face.
And hair. And hands. And—I was getting off track—I couldn’t manage to recall any of the angry, revenge speeches I’d prepared in the shower over the years.
Instead, I randomly felt like crying.
“My kids are all home!” Linda squealed, breaking the voiceless spell that had everyone holding their breath—even Tom—and saving me. “What luck?”
I took that opportunity to flee the country. Er, at least move over to the stove to help Teagan with the gravy.
“Need help?” I asked, hoping she didn’t notice the existential crisis flaring to life inside me. Medical teams had arrived for the car crash in my head. I couldn’t hear anything over the whooshing in my ears or make sense of my racing thoughts.
Several minutes later, dinner finally ready fifteen minutes after I arrived, we took our seats around the table after we’d plated everything on Linda’s nice China.
It was her tradition for holiday meals—to serve everything on the fancy plates with gold edges she’d been slowly collecting since before I was born.
As a little girl, I’d felt like royalty whenever I got to be a guest during one of her “Fine China Dinners.” Today, I had the urge to throw the gravy boat at Sam Autry’s head.
We settled around the long dining room table. It had grown since I was last here. Added leaves made room for Alex and his newlywed wife, Parker, and for Riley’s new-ish girlfriend, Kami. Thankfully, Sam sat at the other end of the table, on the opposite side.
“You could have warned me,” I whisper-yelled at Teagan behind my napkin.
“You wouldn’t have come,” she hissed back.
“For good reason.”
She rolled her eyes and kicked my shin under the table. “For dumb reasons. Where would you be without me?”
“Safe,” I told her matter-of-factly, not worrying about my snappy tone. “Happy. Erm, probably. At the very least not considering living out of my car as I move from town to town like a hobo just trying to find my place in the world.”
She snorted into her wine glass. “You’re not living out of your car. You’re moving in with me.” Her big smile was dazzling.
I rolled my eyes in response.
“Holly, are you excited to be back?” Tom asked as he glopped a huge serving of mashed potatoes on his plate before passing them on.
My cheeks heated at the attention of the table getting turned on me.
“Excited?” Was it exciting when your entire life fell apart and you had no choice but to beg your bestie to let you crash on her couch until you were financially solvent again?
“That is a word.” I cleared my throat. “But, um, I am not unexcited to be back.”
“The kids are going to love you,” Linda cooed, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked between Teagan and me. “We’re so lucky to have the both of you at the elementary school. I predict the best future citizens of Mistletoe yet.”
Teagan snorted again. “Mom, that’s sweet. But most of the kids I teach can barely draw a circle.”
“I forget you teach art,” Riley said conversationally to his sister. “I always imagine you like that weird science teacher who used to drive through people’s blood.”
The table was silent for a few beats while all of us collectively tried to figure out what the hell he was talking about.
“Ms. Frizzle,” I blurted when it hit me. “Magic School Bus.” The table let out a collective “Oooh yeah.”
“I would be so lucky,” Teagan said emphatically. “The woman knew how to dress.”
“And inspire children,” I added. “You can’t even teach yours how to draw circles.”
We started laughing so hard, Teagan snorted an additional two times.
“Now, I’m being serious, Holly,” Linda added. “Those first graders are lucky to have you. You’re a special girl.”
I felt Sam’s hard gaze on the side of my face while I sawed my perfectly cooked turkey into teeny, tiny pieces. It was a Nobel prize level of peace-keeping effort, but I did manage to bite back my candid “Take a picture, it will last longer.”
“You’re staying then?” Sam’s demanding question broke through the quiet buzz of conversation. “In town?”
I dropped my fork, surprised to have been addressed by a man that preferred the company of others. Could I ignore him this time too?
Teagan elbowed me in the ribs.
“Uh, yes.” There. I’d said words to him. Sure, I hadn’t looked at him or addressed him specifically or even said an intelligent sentence. But I had spoken.
Progress!
“She’s staying with me,” Teagan boasted as if her brothers would be devastated that I wasn’t going to move in with one of them. “And I got her a job at the school. I’m basically her wealthy benefactor.”
It was my turn to snort. “I’d like an allowance then, Sugar Mama.” She mimicked making it rain.
Linda had leaned forward to tell me congratulations a third time, and Tom murmured something about how good it was that I was finally here, but Sam’s next question muffled them both. “What are you going to do at the elementary?” It was another demand. Another barked order.
“I teach first grade,” I said to my stuffing. “Ms. Belcher had her baby a few days early, so I’m here to cover her maternity leave. Meet Mistletoe Elementary’s newest long-term sub.”
“You’re back then? For good?” Everyone seemed to pause with food halfway to their mouth as Sam’s severe question rang through the room.
Enough was enough. I couldn’t cower from the idiot forever. I lifted my gaze, along with my chin, and met those intense green eyes from across the table. “Yes. I’m back.”
He held my stare, a muscle in his jaw ticking. The Meyer’s family faded away. The Thanksgiving feast disappeared. It was him. And me. And this tight rod of tension that had always existed.
Something flashed across his face. An emotion? A thought? “What does Hudson think of that?”
How did he know Hudson’s name? I wanted to glare at Teagan, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from Sam. “I don’t care what Hudson thinks of that.”
“You broke up?”
I resented him a little more for bringing up my ex. I’d come crawling home with my tail between my legs, and Sam wanted to drag my shit through the mud here? Now? At Thanksgiving?
My jaw hurt from how tightly I had my teeth clenched. “Yes. We broke up.”
“Let’s go around the table and say what we’re thankful for!” Linda announced happily, breaking the spell that had transported Sam and I elsewhere for just a moment.
A ghost of a smile passed over Sam’s mouth, but he quickly took a bite of his meal, effectively hiding it while he waited his turn.
Meanwhile, I was left to wonder if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life returning to Mistletoe.