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“I don't think so...”

“But you're not sure?”

“I...I'm not sure,” I said. Mom certainly hadn't said anything in her texts to indicate that Mark had spilled the beans. I knew Mark was a private person. He probably didn't want to embarrass me by telling our parents about my love life. Especially if he still thought I was being taken advantage of. He wouldn't want Mom and Dad to know that I was struggling, any more than I did. Knowing Mark, he was probably still working on his own plan to “rescue” me from the situation I was in, even if I didn't want him to.

“Damn it, Ami,” Mark said. He let out a long sigh. “I was really trying to avoid bringing any drama into your family's lives this weekend. I want this holiday to be special.”

“It will be,” I said, putting a hand on his knee. “Trust me. I just need to talk to them face to face. Everything will work out fine. I promise.”

He gave me an uncertain look, but he nodded. “All right. I just hope your brother can keep his cool.”

“Give him a break,” I said. “I know he can be hot-headed at times, but look at it from his perspective. He thinks he's protecting me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that.”

We finally pulled onto the street we'd grown up on. I hadn't been home since Christmas, but everything still looked the same. The trees lining the block were mostly bare of leaves by now, with big piles of leaves covering the ground. Some of the neighbors already had their Christmas lights up. My dad would probably be complaining about that by now. He hated seeing Christmas lights up before Thanksgiving. He would usually put his lights up the Saturday after Thanksgiving, in order to, as he put it, “give Thanksgiving a chance without Christmas smothering it.”

“Wow, this brings back memories,” Cam said, looking around. “I haven't been back here in years.”

“There's your old house,” I said, pointing to the blue two-story house as we drove by.

Cam slowed down a bit, looking out the window. “Yeah. I wonder who lives there now.”

“I guess life goes on,” I said.

We drove past Cam's house until we reached my parents' house. Their cars were parked in the driveway, and Mark's car was parked along the curb out front. The lawn was mostly cleared of leaves, which had been raked into a big pile at one corner of the yard, waiting to be picked up. Cam parked right in front of the pile of leaves, not having any room to park anyplace else.

He opened his door right into the pile. “Damn,” he said as leaves fell all around him. He climbed out of the car, stepping carefully through the leaves. I walked around the car and waited while he was brushing leaves off of him and picking a few twigs out of his shoes.

“Well, you just lost some brownie points with my dad,” I said.

“Huh?” Cam looked up at me, confused.

I pointed to the leaf pile. It was scattered about now, no longer contained in the perfect little pile the way my dad liked it.

“Oh. Sorry.” Cam kicked some of the leaves back into the pile, then gave up on it.

We headed up to the front door. It had been freshly painted, as had the shutters. The garden had been redone as well, giving the old house a fresh, new look. But it was still home.

I paused in front of the door. I almost reached for the doorbell. It felt silly, thinking about ringing the doorbell on the house I had grown up in. But this wasn't really my home anymore. It was a part of my past, and an important one, but I had moved on.

I opened the door and walked inside. I heard voices coming from the kitchen. “Hello?” I called out. “I'm home.”

My mother came around the corner from the kitchen. She had an apron on, no doubt doing some early cooking prep for tomorrow's Thanksgiving dinner. “Ami, sweetheart. I'm so glad you're here.”

She came over and gave me a hug. Then she looked over my shoulder at the guest that I'd brought.

“Cameron,” she said, her voice going flat. “Oh my. I didn't...I wasn't expecting you.”

Cam put an arm around my waist. He gave my mother a smile. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs. Cole.”

Dad came in a moment later. His eyes went straight to Cam. “Cameron, my boy. I didn't know you were back in town. Are you here to see Mark?”

Mark stepped out of the kitchen, along with his girlfriend, a pretty little redhead wearing a short skirt and a loose-fitting blouse. He took one look at Cam and his face darkened.

“Umm, no, Mr. Cole,” Cam said. With one arm around me, he used the other to take my hand in his, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “I'm here with Ami.”

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