Page 84 of The Casanova Complex

I glance from the TV to Merritt, whose eyes are already heavy, and slip my arm around her shoulders, hauling her against me.

If I have to watch a movie that’s probably going to give me nightmares, it’ll be worth suffering through an hour or two if I get her just like this.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MERRITT

Submitting my law school application lifted a weight off my shoulders that was even heavier than I thought, leaving me lighter than I’ve been in months.

Now that it’s done, I feel like I can take a full breath without the deadline looming over me.

I’m closer than ever to graduation and to my future. And it honestly feels surreal to see everything starting to come together after working toward it for so long.

Hence the good mood.

That, and it’s also Thanksgiving break, which means the one holiday of the year that my dad isn’t working.

He generally picks up most holiday shifts at the plant since they pay double time for them, and we always need the money, but Thanksgiving has always been our holiday. Ever since Mom died, I’ve always tried to make it special for us.

We always spend it together. Just him, Elliott, and me.

Some years, we get Christmas Day, but it depends on how his shift falls. A ton of people request Christmas off, so it’s never certain whether or not he’ll have to work.

So, we made Thanksgiving our day.

I’ve been in the kitchen baking since before the sun came up, dancing to “Comedown” playing on my iPod, and apparently, my good mood is “weirding” Elliott out.

He’s just come down the stairs still in pajamas, one eye cracked open, looking at me like I’ve finally lost my mind.

“Why? Can’t a girl just be in a good mood, El?” I ask as I shut the oven door, whirling around to face him again. “It’s Thanksgiving, and the sun is up. Dad’s off work, I’m done with my application, and I’ve got Bush playing in my ears. It’s a good day.”

He stares at me blankly, rubbing a hand through his too-long hair. Which reminds me that I need to schedule him a haircut sometime next week. “I mean… yeah, okay, I’m happy that you’re happy and all, but it’s like six thirty in the morning, and I’m pretty sure I just saw you moonwalking when I came down the stairs.”

Ouch. That was not for anyone to see. But… yeah, I guess that’s fair.

“Okay, well, whatever, sue me, dude. Happy Thanksgiving, buttnugget!”

Elliott finally laughs, shaking his head. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mermaid. Should we wake Dad up?”

I toss the oven mitts onto the counter and walk over to him, throwing my arms around his neck, giving him the tightest hug I can manage.

“Of course we can. It’s tradition, after all.”

One we started when Elliott was maybe in kindergarten. We walk out to the garage together, my arm still wrapped around his shoulders.

He’s sprouted like a weed this year, gaining inches and passing me completely.

My almost twelve-year-old brother is now taller than me, and I’m twenty-one.

He’s getting older, changing and maturing way past his years, and it makes something in my chest pull taut. He’s my brother, not my child, but in some ways, it feels like I’ve spent most of my childhood raising him. We’ve grown up together, and he’s taught me more about life and myself than he’ll ever probably know.

My dad has always been the very best dad we could have ever wished for. He’s funny, and thoughtful, and works so incredibly hard for our family. He’s always worked himself into the ground to make sure that El and I are cared for. He’s just a single dad, doing the best that he can, and we recognize that. Even on the hard days. Because of the hand that we’ve been dealt, I like to think that Elliott and I got each other as the silver lining.

I bite the inside of my lip when emotion surges in my throat, bringing hot tears to my eyes. Elliott grabs the small plastic water guns out of the cabinet and looks at me with his wide, still-boyish smile. “Ready?”

I nod. “Ready.”

As busy and hectic as our life can be, I still want to hold on to these moments because I’ve learned how quickly they pass us by.