Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Despite his attempts to throw himself into carving the arch, Max hadn’t quite been able to ignore the bitter silence that hung between him and Carissa. As the days turned into one week then two, Max tried to accept that whatever had been building between them was over.
Her harsh words still echoed in his head every time he worked on the arch. Before you waste any more time. A few times, he’d considered leaving the arch unfinished and giving Lanie the desk she’d mentioned. He’d even started building a desk just in case. But his heart wasn’t in that. The arch was not only different and unique, but it was also a symbol of the marriage he hoped his daughter would have—two halves that could stand completely on their own but worked together to make something truly beautiful.
Of course, he couldn’t completely avoid any mention of Carissa. Lanie kept him informed of the wedding planning progress, and from their conversations, he learned bits and pieces about how Carissa’s life was going.
One night at dinner, about a week before Thanksgiving, Lanie propped her chin on her hand. “I was thinking of asking Carissa to Thanksgiving.” At his expression, she frowned. “Don’t look at me like that. She doesn’t have any family here, and I bet she gets lonely during the holidays. Besides, the two of you seemed to be getting along better.”
“It’s your first Thanksgiving since you graduated,” Max said, avoiding responding to his daughter directly. “I’d rather keep it to family.”
“But we always have more than enough food,” Lanie protested. “I’m sure Rose and Steven won’t mind.”
“ I mind,” Max cut in more forcefully than he’d intended. Lanie’s eyes widened, and he was filled with regret. “I’m sorry. It’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He shoved a forkful of chicken into his mouth to buy himself some time. Why, indeed. He would have to tread lightly, or Lanie would get suspicious.
Since Lanie wasn’t aware of their many outings together, he figured it couldn’t hurt to pretend he and Carissa meant nothing to each other. “While I’ve tolerated her for your sake, I suspect I’m the last person Carissa would want to spend a holiday with.”
“That’s an assumption on your part. You don’t know it for sure.”
“Trust me, it’s not an assumption,” he muttered. The memory of Carissa’s face when he’d asked her to leave flashed through his mind.
“You don’t even have to talk to her. She’ll sit at the other end of the table with Rose and me.” She leaned forward, and her hazel eyes pleaded with his. “Please, Dad. No one should have to spend the holidays alone.”
His resolve faltered. The last thing he wanted to do was have an awkward dinner on one of his favorite holidays, but Lanie was right. After the divorce, he’d spent too many holidays alone when Melody had the kids. He remembered how lonely he’d been back then, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
“Fine,” he said reluctantly. “You can ask her, but don’t be surprised if she says no.”
Lanie brightened. “Thank you.”
Max grumbled a response, but inside, he was a mess. His only hope was that Carissa would want to avoid an awkward family dinner as much as he did. Otherwise, he suspected the night would only end in disaster.
The Monday before Thanksgiving, Max headed to the grocery store to grab the last few items he planned to serve at the feast. Lanie hadn’t mentioned whether she’d spoken to Carissa yet, and he wanted to make sure they had plenty of food.
The store traffic was light. One of the many benefits of retirement was the ability to shop on a weekday morning. After grabbing a cart, Max steered it toward the produce aisle.
“Hello, Max,” a familiar voice said behind him.
Max froze. Squeezing his eyes shut, he held his breath. As if he could make Carissa disappear. Or at the very least, make himself invisible. But when she tapped her foot, he realized his actions were futile, and he slowly turned to face her.
“I haven’t heard from you in a while,” she said when he didn’t speak.
“I could say the same about you.” His back was ramrod straight, which made him appear even taller than normal. Some people might be intimidated by his height, but Carissa didn’t seem to notice.
At the sight of her, a wave of emotions ripped through him. Her gray hair was pulled back from her face in a messy bun, and her eyes seemed duller than usual, like she hadn’t been sleeping well. His hands ached to touch her, but he crossed his arms to keep from giving in to temptation.
“That’s fair.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry for how I reacted to the arch.”
“Did you tell Lanie about it?” he asked, cringing at how desperate he sounded.
“Of course not.” Her eyes rose to meet his. “I promised I wouldn’t.”
For a moment, they stood in uncomfortable silence. He knew he should ask her about Thanksgiving, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so. When he couldn’t bear her presence anymore, he slipped behind the handle of his cart and aimed it at the other end of the aisle.
“Wait,” Carissa said, so softly that he thought for a moment he’d imagined it.
He glanced back at her. His hands tightened on the plastic handle, causing it to squeak under the pressure. “Yes?”
“I spoke to the reverend at the church.” Her hands fiddled with the plastic on a bag of bread sitting in the top of her cart. “We’re trying to figure out how to incorporate the arch into the ceremony.”
“You told him?” Max’s heart sank. The more people who knew, the more likely Lanie would find out and the surprise would be ruined.
“He promised he wouldn’t say anything,” she said as if reading his mind. “But I was wondering if it would be okay if I stopped by to measure it. We need an accurate understanding of how much space is required.”
Max hesitated. That moment was simultaneously the perfect opportunity to ask Carissa to join them for Thanksgiving and the worst possible time to do so. They were barely able to speak to each other. Spending more time with him was clearly the last thing on her mind.
And yet… Seeing her there, he realized how much he missed her. While her initial reaction still stung, realizing she’d spent some of their time apart brainstorming ways to blend his gift into Lanie’s vision of her wedding touched his heart. Perhaps olive branches came in unexpected ways.
“Max?” Carissa prompted.
“That would be fine.” He cleared his throat. “How would you like to spend Thanksgiving with the McAllisters?”
Her eyes widened with what he hoped was surprise. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your holiday.”
“It’s no intrusion. We would love to have you.” Lanie’s words came back to him, and he repeated them to Carissa. “No one should be alone for the holidays.”
Her lips curved into a tentative smile. “Thank you for thinking of me. I would love to.”
Though her response lacked the enthusiasm she’d had the last time he’d invited her over, Max’s chest warmed. “Great. Dinner is at five.”
She chewed her lower lip, and Max was distracted by the movement. Desire swam in his belly at the thought of kissing those lips again, but he forced himself to refocus.
“Do you need me to bring anything?”
“Only if there’s something you’d like to bring.” He gestured to the cart. “We’ve got the rest covered.”
“Sounds great. I’ll see you then.”
On Thanksgiving Day, Max was up with the sun to start preparations for the feast. Every year the kids were with him for the holiday, he and Lanie had the same routine. The day before, she would make deviled eggs and pumpkin pie. In the morning, Max would get up and set the turkey out to rest on the counter while he made pumpkin pancakes for breakfast. Then, once the turkey was in the oven and breakfast was cleaned up, they all gathered in the living room and watched the Macy’s parade.
After the parade, he planned to spend the rest of the afternoon helping Lanie in the kitchen. She made the rolls from scratch, while he made the other sides. He had a buffet server Crock-Pot that he used to make slow-cooker macaroni and cheese, green beans, and stuffing. When the turkey was almost done, Lanie would boil sweet potatoes and make a casserole. The minute the turkey came out of the oven, the casserole and the rolls would go in. They were like a well-oiled machine.
Of course, last year, Lanie hadn’t come home. With Rose’s help, he and Steven had tried to recreate the tradition, but it had turned into a huge mess. Somehow, the turkey was both burnt and undercooked, the sweet potatoes exploded in the oven, and each boiled egg had ripped apart when he tried to pull the yolk out. Max was glad Lanie was back and hoped things would go more smoothly.
As he removed the turkey from the fridge, a door opened upstairs. A moment later, Lanie appeared in the kitchen doorway, rubbing her eyes.
“Have you started on breakfast yet?” she asked with a yawn.
“Was just about to.” Max set the turkey on the counter and preheated the oven. “If you want to start frying the bacon, that would be great.”
With a sleepy nod, Lanie poured herself a cup of coffee before setting up the griddle on the stove. As he worked quietly next to his daughter, a sense of peace washed over him. Thanksgiving was his favorite holiday for many reasons. Although Christmas was also a family holiday, he found the rampant consumerism associated with it off-putting. In contrast, Thanksgiving was a more relaxed get-together.
He chuckled to himself. Well, if you don’t count the stress of cooking and the cleanup. Still, the expectations were different, and people tended to linger, whether because they were too full of the feast or simply able to enjoy the company of family.
Just as he flipped the last pancake, the front door swung open. Steven’s voice carried through the house as he and Rose made their way to the kitchen. Rose carried an apple pie, and Steven had several grocery bags in his hands.
“Lanie asked me to pick up a few things,” Steven said as he set the bags on the floor. He sniffed the air appreciatively. “Did you make enough for us?”
“Of course.” Max carried the plate of pancakes and set it on the table next to the bacon Lanie had made. “There’s fresh coffee in the pot.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Steven poured mugs for Rose and himself and took them to the table. “No Nate this morning?”
“He’ll be by later.” Lanie passed him the butter. “He planned to visit his parents first.”
“And he didn’t invite you?” Rose asked.
Shaking her head, Lanie took a bite of pancake. “He did, but I told him I have too much to do here.” She turned to Max. “This is delicious, Dad.”
“Don’t act so surprised,” Max grumbled, though he couldn’t help smiling.
After finishing one pancake, Steven reached for another. “Is it just the five of us, then?”
Instead of answering, Max lifted his coffee and drained the liquid. Lanie bit her lip, and Max wondered if she hadn’t had a chance to talk to Carissa.
“Um, we might have one more,” he finally said.
Rose tilted her head. “Who?”
Keeping his eyes on his food, Max answered, “I asked Carissa to join us.”
While Lanie’s eyes lit with a happy surprise, Steven exchanged a wary look with Rose. “You two are spending quite a bit of time together.”
“I’ve been making an effort to get along with her,” Max said. “For Lanie’s sake.”
“You two seemed pretty cozy when we were at the festival.” Rose gave him a secretive grin that suggested she knew he wasn’t being entirely truthful.
“We’re just friends,” he insisted, though he wasn’t even sure that was true anymore. But Carissa had agreed to join their holiday festivities, and that gave him hope.
Before anyone could further comment on his and Carissa’s relationship, he stood. “I, uh, need to start on the dishes if we want to watch the parade.”
Thankfully, his children didn’t push him on the issue, and the rest of the day went as planned. As the clock ticked closer to five, his stomach began tying itself in knots. The meal was on schedule, and everything had turned out beautifully, thanks to Lanie, but Max couldn’t help worrying about what might happen when Carissa arrived. Would they be able to move past the arch-shaped elephant that stood between them?
A few minutes before five, the doorbell rang. Max wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and prepared to answer the door, but Lanie got there first. He stood in the hallway as his daughter wrapped Carissa in a warm hug.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” Lanie cried.
“Happy Thanksgiving.” Carissa’s voice was more subdued as her eyes met Max’s. “I brought a pecan pie and homemade cranberry sauce.” She shifted her weight to her other foot. “I hope that’s all right.”
“Homemade cranberry sauce?” Steven turned in his chair in the living room and raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t everyone eat the kind that comes in a can?”
Carissa gave a nervous laugh. “It’s my mother’s recipe.”
“I’m sure it’ll be delicious.” Lanie took the bags from Carissa and led her into the kitchen. “I’m glad you were able to make it.”
“Thanks for inviting me.” As she stepped into the kitchen, Carissa’s eyes widened. “Wow. That’s a lot of food.” Her gaze found Max’s again. “You really go all out.”
“We haven’t eaten since breakfast,” Max explained. “We save our calories for the meal. Did you want something to drink?”
“White wine if you’ve got it.”
Max removed the bottle from the fridge and poured Carissa a glass. He was thankful to have an excuse to turn away from her. She looked absolutely radiant in a simple blue dress with a matching jacket. Her hair was pulled away from her face with a clip, showing off her high cheekbones. It had taken everything in his power not to reach for her the moment she set foot in the house.
As he handed her the glass, their fingers brushed, and a jolt of electricity shot up his arm. He wished he could have a moment alone with her, to hash out what was wrong between them as well as to kiss her senseless.
She stared at him, and the same yearning he felt was reflected in her eyes. The beep of the oven timer broke the spell, and they glanced away from each other.
“That’s dinner!” Lanie removed the sweet potato casserole and rolls from the oven and set them on the counter.
Grateful for a distraction, Max rushed to help her carry the food into the dining room. Steven and Rose came in from the living room and took their seats on one side of the table with Lanie and Nate on the other. That left Carissa and Max to sit at opposite ends.
A flash of memory shot through Max as he realized no one had occupied that seat since Melody. Seeing Carissa sitting there caused an avalanche of emotions to come crashing through him all at once. Sorrow at what he’d lost after his divorce. Joy at seeing the seat filled once more with someone who had stolen his heart. Hope that Carissa’s presence was the promise of something new and beautiful. And fear that he had already screwed it up.
“Dad?” Lanie prompted, bringing him back to the present. “Are you going to carve the turkey?”
With a gruff nod, he picked up the carving knife and a fork and began slicing the meat from the bird. Everyone passed their plates and called out whether they wanted light or dark meat. Once everyone had turkey, other sides were passed around. Max finished carving the last of the turkey and tossed out the bones.
His children and their partners had already begun digging into the food when Max finally had a chance to fill his plate with the rest of the sides. As he lifted his fork, he caught Carissa staring at him.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
She glanced at the two couples sitting on opposite sides of the table before clearing her throat. “Do you not say grace?”
“Um…” Lanie set down her silverware. “Not usually, but we can if you’d like.”
Steven smiled. “Our tradition is to say what we’re thankful for after the meal.”
“But Carissa is our guest.” Rose gestured to her. “Would you like to say grace?”
The way Carissa’s eyes widened suggested to Max she was wishing she hadn’t said anything. He had opened his mouth to save her when she nodded.
“Dear Heavenly Father.” She bowed her head. “We give thanks for this bountiful feast prepared by loving hands. We give thanks for this time with our family and friends. We ask that you bless those who are gathered here and those we have lost but still hold in our hearts. Amen.”
As Max raised his head, he fought back the tears Carissa’s words had brought forth. Despite being raised Catholic, he’d never been a religious man. But the simple prayer Carissa had offered reminded him so much of Melody that for a moment, it’d felt like she was still in the room with them. Her faith, even at the end, had been steadfast.
Everyone began eating again, but a much more somber mood filled the room. Carissa gave him an apologetic smile, but he shook his head. Her prayer was beautiful in its simplicity. And it made him realize that while he missed Melody terribly, there was no doubt in his mind he was ready to take a second chance at love—and all that came with it.