Page 83 of Keepsakes and Kismet

“I was talking about succulents, not a weeping willow!”

He presses his lips together, like he’s trying not to laugh. “Rebrand it, Pey. Just think of the money tree as Big Plant.”

I reach for the hot air control and turn it up. “Be honest. Did you go into the plant store, ask ‘what is the biggest indoor plant one can buy’ and purchase the first recommendation?”

“It was the third recommendation,” he mutters. “The first two were partially toxic to humans or cats.”

I pat him on the shoulder. “Aw, so it wasn’t always your plan to poison me in retribution for punching you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Be real, Peyton. I’d be far more likely to poison you for edging me about your real job for weeks.”

The light flips to green and he turns onto his parents’ street, whistling when he sees all of the cars parked out front. “Looks like almost everyone’s here already. Usually half of my siblings are late. The only one I don’t see is Carter’s truck.”

There’s an open spot at the end of his parents’ driveway, a luxury for someone who likes to leave places early like Callum.

He shifts the gear into park and looks at me. “Ready?”

I twirl my hair nervously. Why am I nervous? This isn’t me. “Oh my God, Cal. I’m nervous to meet your parents.”

He reaches out, putting his hand on mine. “What do you mean? They’ve already met you.”

“Yeah, but that was when we weren’t really together. And I was hired.” I wince. “Sorry.”

“Too soon, Peyton. And you know that,” he teases.

Instead of my usual volley back, I shift in my seat. “Is there anything I should do to get them to like me?”

Callum tugs on my hand and laces my fingers through his. “Don’t try. You don’t need to influence anyone. You are so good, Pey. There’s just this goodness inside of you. The word seems simple, I know, but I don’t know how else to⁠—”

“Not simple.” Fondness squeezes my heart. “It’s not simple to me. No one’s ever described me that way.”

How does Callum always know the right thing to say?

I know my family would love to have you. I really want you to come. That’s what he said when he invited me here, to his family’s early Thanksgiving celebration. Such simple declarations, but they meant everything. He didn’t even give me a chance to utter the age-old “new girlfriend” deflections, like I don’t want to intrude on family time, or are you sure you want me there?

Feeling more at ease, I gesture to the boxes on my lap. “Let’s go in. Do you need help carrying in the pies?”

He picks up the boxes. “Nah, I’m used to carrying lots of food into my parents’ house. Buying and delivering store-bought food is my Galvin Family Responsibility.”

“God. Please tell me more,” I say gleefully.

He clears his throat like he’s about to give a professional speech. “Due to All The Children, Ma and Dad bestowed each of us with a responsibility to divvy up the work that comes with a large family. Legend has it the appointments happened at birth. Mine is bringing external food, like desserts or ice cream, chips and salsa, things that we don’t make at home. Honestly, I think it’s part of the reason I became a Health Inspector.”

I giggle and crack my car door. “Wow. I didn’t know I was in the presence of a pie carrying expert.”

“Watch this.” He gets out of the car and walks to my side, opening my door with the pie boxes stacked in one hand. “See? I’m practically a wizard of pie handling, so⁠—”

A loud car horn beeps and he promptly drops one of the pie boxes.

“Fuck!” He sinks to the ground, setting the other pie boxes down gently in the driveway and trying to salvage the one that’s face down on the pavement.

“Hey, Cal! Happy Pretend Thanksgiving, bro!” Carter shouts out his car window. “Hi, Peyton, good to see you!”

I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head at Carter’s antics. We’re celebrating Thanksgiving early because the Galvins rarely gather on the actual holiday. There are so many schedules to coordinate, plus Caitlyn shares her twins with Rhett—her ex-husband.

I squat down next to Callum and wince when I take a look at the dropped pie. Every bit of whipped cream is stuck to the top of the box.

I sigh. “Rest in pieces, Coconut pie. I shall eat you with a spoon when I return to my apartment later.”