“Hell yeah, I did! After turkey, Juliet and I will lay waste to you all!”
Sometimes, I think Tanya and Courtney have a competition going for who can say the most ridiculous thing. Or maybe it’s just that my friend has taught my sister her dramatic ways.
The Jameson family home is spacious, but with so many people in one place, it starts to feel crowded. A few pack members with little or no family come here for holidays, knowing they’re always welcome. Luckily, none of them are approaching me with problems to solve, but I still maneuver Juliet out to the backyard to get some space.
“So, this is where you grew up, huh?”
We gaze out over the property. The place is almost farm-like with its flatness, but my family has never been farmers. Still, my parents appreciated the sprawling property when my siblings and I were younger and had unending energy to run off. And this is where my dad liked to have pack members stop by with their questions and concerns. I prefer to be approached at The Rabbit Hole, but he was more a sit-on-the-back-porch-and-chat kind of guy. Warner’s got more of his personality than I do. I’m more like my mom.
Thinking of my parents hurts deep in my chest.
My father was a better pack leader than I can ever hope to be, as well as a kind man and loving father. He was a hugger, and I miss that unyielding embrace.
Then there’s Rebecca, who should be here. I can’t help resenting her absence. Hopefully, this time next year, she’ll havefigured out her shit and done all she needs for me to let her return home.
Especially because she now has two sons with human partners.
With my mind back on Juliet, I realize I never answered her question.
“Yeah. The house has been in the family for generations.” Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I guide Juliet off the porch and into the yard, pointing out the cornhole boards she’ll be expected to master later. Not too far from the house is a swing dangling from a fat tree branch.
With a wave, I invite Juliet to take a seat. She settles carefully, clutching her glass of wine. Keeping the drink in mind, I don’t push her. I simply move to stand behind her, gripping the ropes on either side of her head, and offer my body as a backrest. Juliet leans into me, and together, we watch the sky streak with vibrant colors as the sun sinks below a far-off mountain.
“It’s peaceful here,” she says quietly. “I like it.”
With you here, I finally feel at peace too.
For now, I keep the words to myself. Soon though, I’ll let her know how much she’s come to mean to me.
“Are you hiding Ms. Adair with your overly muscled body?” a haughty voice calls from behind me.
The voice is familiar, but out of place. When I turn, I realize my guess was right. Still, it takes me another moment to make sense of the situation.
“Hester Willowborne is your surprise guest?” I hazard because the woman has never shown up at Thanksgiving in all the years of my life.
Juliet smiles up at me, a tightness in the corners of her eyes. “That’s not a problem, right?”
Hester never does anything she doesn’t want to do, and it’s a good idea to let her do what she wants. If she wants to take partin a Jameson Thanksgiving, then the best thing to do is welcome her.
“No. Not a problem. Just didn’t realize you were close,” I say.
My woman shrugs, standing from the swing. “She has me over for tea sometimes. I think we’re friends.”
After giving my hand a squeeze, Juliet crosses the yard toward the new arrival, jogging, even in her heels. Not the most practical footwear, but I can’t complain about the flex they put in her toned calves.
Juliet waves, and hell if Hester Willowborne doesn’t smile back at her. That’s a rare thing.
I approach the pair at a slower pace, giving them the semblance of privacy even though I can hear every word exchanged.
“I am here. As requested,” Hester intones.
“I’m glad you could come.” Juliet reaches out to squeeze the woman’s hand.
“Of course. I would never miss an opportunity to discover the secrets of the Jameson family.”
Her sharp eyes meet mine over Juliet’s head, and I do my best to suppress a grimace.
“We’re open books.” I mount the steps to the back porch and press a palm into Juliet’s lower back. “Hello, Hester. Good of you to join us.”
