“Yeah. Well, the usual—dinner at my parents’.”
I leaned my elbows on the counter, flipping throughCasa Beautiful,a home design magazine Jonathan had left for me. He was obsessed with the house—he put a lot of thought into every detail, every decision. I was glad he seemed to be enjoying himself. And, hey, I wasn’t going to complain. His taste was as gorgeous as it was expensive.
I tried to focus on the finishes instead of the fact that I wouldn’t be spending the holidays with my parents. My mom was going to be on a yoga retreat—nothing new there. And Dad…well, he still wouldn’t talk to me. Nor would Lea.
“But I’m bringing a date,” Piper said.
That got my attention.
“A date.Really?” I stood, stretching out my arms. “You never bring a date to Thanksgiving. This must be serious.”
“Nah.” But her nonchalant tone couldn’t fool me. They’d been seeing each other exclusively for months, and I knew she liked him more than she let on.
“Mm-hmm. So, when do I get to meet this guy?”
“Soon. At least, if he survives my family.”
I laughed. “Of course he’ll survive your family. You guys are fun,” I said, thinking back on holidays I’d spent with them. The drinking games, the laughter, the love.
“Sumner?” Piper asked, and I realized I’d zoned out on the conversation, my mind drifting to memories of Thanksgivings past. Of holidays spent with my family.
“Yeah?” I shook my head as if to clear it.
“I asked what you and Jonathan ended up deciding to do for the holiday.”
“He’s been in LA the past few days on business. But we’re going to keep it low-key, grill some filet mignon and bake some pies.”
“That sounds nice,” she said.
“Yeah.” Even I could hear the wistful note to my voice. “Yeah. I’m sure it will be.”
“Tell me why you didn’t take him up on the trip to the Caribbean again?”
I sighed. “I’m beginning to wonder myself. I guess I was just holding out hope that maybe my dad would magically change his mind or something.”
“Still nothing?”
“Nope.” I popped the “p.”
I carried the phone with me as I grabbed some ingredients to start preparing dinner. My phone buzzed with an incoming call, and I glanced at the screen, expecting it to be Jonathan, not…
“Oh my god,” I gasped, nearly dropping my phone and the onions and potatoes with it.
“What’s wrong?” Piper asked.
“I, um—” I stared at the screen, wondering if I was imagining things. “I’ve got to go. It’s Lea.”
“Yes. Go.Go!”
I dropped the produce on the counter, an onion toppling onto the floor as I rushed to connect the call. “Hello?”
“Sumner?”
I felt as if I might jump out of my skin. Why was she calling? Was it just to say hello, or…Oh god.
“Lea? Is everything okay?” It came out with a whoosh of breath.
“Yes. Yeah. Do you have a minute?”
