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Chapter 34
We came back downstairs to find almost everyone assembling around the large farmhouse table in the kitchen as Dad helped Bubbe carve the turkey.
"I tried to get them into the dining room, but your friends are very stubborn, Skylar," Bubbe said with an evil eye at Kieran and Pushpa.
Kieran just took a sip of her wine and shrugged. "Dining rooms always feel like mausoleums."
I glanced at Brandon. Did I want to know what that was about? He shook his head slightly and went to help set the table.
It wasn't until everyone was seated––Brandon, Bubbe, Dad, Kieran, Pushpa, Cory, and Hope––that I realized we were still missing two.
"Where are Eric and Jane?" I asked.
"They went for a walk around the property about fifteen minutes ago," said Dad as he eagerly helped himself to a giant spoonful of mashed potatoes. "Ma, this looks like heaven."
I pushed back from the table. "I'm just going to tell them that everything is ready."
It didn't take me long to find them. As soon as I stepped out the back door, I could hear them arguing. I sighed. This was really getting old.
"I told you, I'm not moving back from Chicago!"
"Jesus Christ, I know that, Jane. But if you're not, I don't see what the big deal is if I'm seeing someone else."
"Excuse me for having fucking feelings, Eric. I'm not a robot. It doesn't exactly feel great to walk in on you making out with your ex-girlfriend. At Thanksgiving, no less."
Oh. No wonder Ana had disappeared by the time I'd come back downstairs.
"Ahem." I cleared my throat and stepped further down the porch.
Jane and Eric stopped when they turned and saw me. They were about two inches apart, stiff with anger, although the way Eric was staring at Jane's lips told me he wasn't just thinking about their fight.
"Ah, hey Sky," Jane said as she took a few steps back, although she didn't stop glaring at Eric.
Eric, for his part, just cleared his throat and turned toward the lawn for a second to adjust his pants. I rolled my eyes. Men always thought they were being discreet when they did that, but it was so obvious.
"Everything all right out here?" I wondered. "Dinner's on the table, in case you were wondering."
Eric turned back around and leaned casually against the deck railing. He folded his arms across his chest. "I don't know. Is it, Jane?"
Jane crossed her arms around her middle and just stared at the ground.
"Right then." Eric turned to me, looking sorry. "I should probably go. Thanks for the invite, Skylar. And give Brandon my apologies."
I frowned at both of them, and then, with a glance behind me to make sure we weren't attracting attention from the party, I stepped out in front of Eric as he turned, blocking his path to the driveway.
"All right," I said with my hands on my hips. "I don't know what the hell is going on with you two, but this back and forth, will-they-won't-they bullshit has to stop."
"Sky," Jane started. "You really don't have to––"
"We got this handled," Eric broke in. "I'm going to go."
I pointed a finger and glared at him. "Do you? Because for the last few months, all I've been hearing from you is how in love you are with my best friend. But she comes back to another woman's underwear in your fucking sheets, and now you're parading in front of her with your newest conquest, who also happens to be my housekeeper. In my house. On Thanksgiving! Is that handling it, Eric?"
Eric gave me a dark look, but shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. From where she was now seated on the railing, Jane snorted, and I turned to her with an equally withering glare.
"And you! What the hell is wrong with you? Do you know how hard it was for Eric to ask you to meet his parents? To fly to Chicago to tell you he loves you? The man has literally been wracking his brains trying to get through to you, which I know is what you want because I know you better than anyone else! You didn't fly out here to spend Thanksgiving with me instead of your family because I'm such a fantastic cook!"
Jane opened her mouth to argue, but I kept charging on.
