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“Instead of ‘bust a move’ you’ll be ‘bust a seam,’” I say, cracking myself up. Jilly frowns. “What? All pregnant women stop fitting into their regular clothes.” I playfully bump her hip with mine. “And you’re going to be gorgeous. Hey, looks like Target carries what we need.”
We drive to the superstore, talking nonstop about the wedding, the baby, the way life works out. Jilly can’t resist buying a few baby things in addition to the onesie. I can’t ignore a camel cable-knit sweater that reminds me of Sammy’s fur. She and I will be twins.
Later that night I’m working on my laptop when Jilly texts me Robert is over the moon with the baby news. I smile down at my phone. Like there was any doubt. The two of them are peanut butter and jelly. Salt and pepper.
My phone peals with another text. This one from Finn.
Good night.
For a dangerous second, I wonder if he’s the meatballs to my spaghetti and laugh out loud to extinguish the dangerous thought.
Chapter Fourteen
#CrushingOnYou
Chloe
The house smellslike turkey, bacon, and spices that make my mouth water. My dad does Thanksgiving dinner like nobody’s business. I make the salad and pies, and he cooks the rest. His fluffy onion and celery stuffing, and bacon mashed potatoes alone could give Wolfgang Puck a run for his money. Not to mention the turkey is so juicy you don’t need a knife to cut it and his buttermilk biscuits melt in your mouth.
Welcome to my favorite holiday, everybody.
And no, I am not sharing any leftovers.
A football game plays on the television as we continue our backgammon challenge on the coffee table. It’s a tradition that goes back to when my mom was alive. We’ve done our best to keep all of her rituals a part of our lives.
I roll the dice, land a pair of twos to win the game, and throw my arms in the air in victory. “Looks like I’m up two-to-one.”
“For now,” Dad says, smiling. He doesn’t really care who comes out the winner in our best of five, but he’s also neverletme win.
We’re setting up the small round pieces for the next game when the doorbell rings. I startle, suddenly nervous. Which is ridiculous. I knew he was on his way over. And it’s just a turkey dinner with my dad, not a date or anything.
“I’ll get it.” I rise to my feet, cool as cucumber on the outside. The last thing I need is my dad noticing my crush on Finn. Yes, I said crush. It’s grown full blown over the past two days. How? Let me count the ways for you:
1)More short, sweet texts, including one from Sammy that said she waspawsiblymissing me.
2)That Finn is texting says a lot. With his dyslexia, I’d noticed he gets calls from his family and friends and does the same in return. I’m honored and flattered he’s taken to a written exchange with me.
3)Hanging on the back of my closet door is my bridesmaid dress. It was delivered yesterday inside a garment bag, gorgeous as the day I first picked it up. Finn won’t tell me the particulars so I’ve decided this is one gift to be grateful for and to shut up about the specifics and paying him back.
4)He hasn’t pushed me on my dad. I haven’t seen Finn this week because of doctors’ appointments set up weeks ago. Finn’s left me two voice messages checking in and offering to share his green smoothie recipe if my dad is interested in a healthy morning boost.
Burying my crush way, way back in the recesses of my mind, I open the front door and burst out laughing. Not at Finn. Never at Finn. In olive-green slacks and a white collared shirt open at the neck, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, he looks good enough to eat. His light brown hair is a little shorter than the last time I saw him and combed neatly. His strong jaw is clean-shaven. But Sammy is sitting beside him and around her neck is a bandanna decorated with cartoon turkeys and an orange pom-pom trim that is more funny than cute. Her adorable face is aimed up at me and she looks furious.
“Aw, Sammy. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh at you.”
“She’s definitely mad at me,” Finn says, glancing down at his puppy with obvious affection.
“I think she’ll get over it pretty quickly.”
“Hopefully. Happy Thanksgiving.” He hands me a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers. (Add brings me my favorite flower to the crush list. I mentioned it to him once!)
“Thank you. Happy Thanksgiving. Come on in.”
Sammy trots inside alongside Finn. “Wow, it smells great in here. Thanks again for having us.”
“Of course. I wasn’t going to let you have Thanksgiving alone.” I close the front door and usher them into the family room.
“Hello, Finn,” my dad says.
