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I couldn’t help laughing at his comment, and it helped to relieve some of the tension. Before I could reply, Logan came back into the living room with Kristina. She smiled tentatively at me, nervously clutching a bottle of wine.
“I think we have enough wine to open up our own liquor store,” Mack said with a grin. Kristina frowned at his comment, her frown deepening when she looked at the table and saw all the bottles of wine.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to bring.”
“Don’t listen to him,” I said, getting up and taking her bottle of wine to place with the others. “You can never have enough wine.”
I was the one who had invited her, so I decided that being anything but gracious would be in poor taste. I could grin and bear it for a few hours.
“Should we eat now?” Logan asked. “Everyone’s here.”
“We might as well,” I replied. “The food will just get cold if we wait any longer.”
Instead of each person sitting on one side of the table, I had grouped the chairs so Logan and I were sitting on one side, and Mack and Kristina were sitting on the other. Despite having invited her out of pity, I wanted to make it clear to Kristina that Logan and I were a couple.
We started to place all the food on the table and Kristina and Mack made all the appropriate exclamations of appreciation. I couldn’t help feeling a little proud about the spread, especially since this was my first real attempt at making Thanksgiving dinner. After the turkey, mashed potatoes, candied yams, green bean casserole, roasted brussels sprouts, sweet corn casserole, and a few other dishes had been set on the table, we sat down to eat.
“This is amazing,” Mack said in between bites. “And you said you weren’t a very good cook.”
“Logan helped a lot,” I said, although I was gratified by his compliment. “I just don’t cook that much, so I wasn’t sure how well this was all going to turn out. My repertoire pretty much consists of Western omelets and spaghetti.”
“That’s good enough for me,” Logan said with a smile. “I could probably live off those two things.”
“And nachos,” I said with a wry grin. “Don’t forget nachos. And only if they’re the size of Texas.”
“How could I forget about nachos,” he said, pretending to look aghast. “That should be added as one of the main food groups.”
“I like nachos, too,” Mack said. Logan and I laughed at his comment, since he had no idea what we were referring to, but he looked happy at the notion of nachos.
“Sorry, no nachos for Thanksgiving,” I said. “We’ll have to do without.”
I glanced at Kristina and saw the pained expression on her face. My smile instantly disappeared. I remembered the first time she had been to the Half Pitcher and what Logan and I had done in the back room while she waited for us at the table, none the wiser. My stomach twisted at the thought, and the guilt that had propelled me to invite her over for Thanksgiving reared its ugly head again.
“How’s work going?” I asked Mack, wanting to change the subject. “How much longer do you think you’ll be in Chicago?”
“I’ll probably be leaving sometime next week,” he replied. “Although I might have to come back again next month.”
“You’re just trying to finagle an invite to Christmas,” Logan said with a smirk. “Then you’ll be back in February for President’s Day.”
“What’ll we have for President’s Day dinner?” Mack asked, pretending to be excited. “Nachos?”
I rolled my eyes at them, but I enjoyed their lighthearted banter. I looked at Kristina, wanting to include her in the conversation, but I had a hard time coming up with a topic to discuss. Her failed suicide attempt and her desire to get back together with Logan weren’t exactly subjects we could discuss over dinner. I finally settled on work.
“You work in advertising, right?”
Kristina nodded her head. “Yes, I work for an ad agency as an account director.”
“That must be exciting,” I remarked.
Kristina smiled slightly. “It’s a lot of meetings, RFPs and scheduling. Not exactly fodder for Mad Men.”
“I’m sure you see more action than I do,” I commented, “considering I usually work at home in my PJs. When I want to get really wild and crazy, I go to Starbucks and work.”
I was surprised by Kristina’s laugh. It made me realize that we would have probably been friends if we had met under different circumstances. Even though I had resented her when Logan moved back to Chicago with her in tow, I hadn’t been able to deny that she had been a warm and friendly person. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that we could be friends now, but maybe we could become civil. Not that there was any need to be in contact again once she went back to L.A.
We kept the topics neutral for the rest of dinner, and I found myself enjoying myself more than I thought I would. After we were stuffed full, we moved to the living room to rest and recuperate enough to tackle dessert later.
Kristina sat in the armchair and Logan and I sat on the couch. I saw her avert her eyes when he put his arm around my shoulders, and I didn’t know how to feel about that. A part of me wanted her to see my claim on Logan, but the other part of me felt guilty for rubbing it in her face.
