“Game night only,” she warns, wagging a flour-dusted finger at my mom. “If I see you trying to freeze a slice for later, Betty, I will find out.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mom lies smoothly. “I’m sure there won’t be any left anyway.”
Bea kisses my cheek and gives me a once-over. “You look nice, sugar. Too nice for cards and crackers. Trying to impress anyone?”
I open my mouth to deflect, but she’s already moving on, offering unsolicited life advice to Gracie and critiquing Maya’s outfit with genuine affection and a side of caramel shortbread.
It isn’t long before Sheriff Caleb Flynn follows her inside. He mutters something to Dee about neighborhood patrol schedules, but the moment she pulls him into the kitchen to “talk logistics,” it’s obvious he’s not going anywhere.
Especially once he sees Mayor Monroe arrive and doesn’t so subtly rearrange himself to stand near her.
“Has anyonetoldher about his crush?” I whisper to Maya.
“Only the entire town. Twice.”
Caleb somehow manages to end up in our Pictionary group and, to everyone’s shock, he’s good. Like, scarily good.
“Is that a velociraptor?” Gracie asks, squinting at his sketch.
“No, it’s clearly a unicycle,” says Lily Prescott from across the room.
“It’s Velociraptor On A Unicycle!” yells Maya, winning the round and nearly flipping the whiteboard.
“Do you evenenforcelaws?” Dee mutters to Caleb as he smirks.
Mason and Lily Prescott host the lightning round trivia, dragging a folding table into the center of the living room like it’s the main stage at a championship event. Lily’s all sunshine and giggles, reading out questions in her singsong voice and tossing Hershey’s Kisses at anyone who answers quickly. Mason, on the other hand, keeps score with the solemn intensity of a man calculating rocket fuel.
“Which U.S. state produces the most blueberries?” Lily chirps.
“Maine!” shouts Gracie before the question is even finished.
Mason doesn’t even blink. “Correct. But minus one point for yelling.”
“Minus one?” she gasps. “This is trivia, not federal court!”
“Same energy,” he deadpans.
It’s chaos, wonderful, ridiculous chaos, full of inside jokes and playful jabs and people shouting over each other for bragging rights that last maybe a week.
Someone spills cider.
Someone else starts a round of charades that devolves instantly into interpretive dance.
My mom keeps trying to play matchmaker between Caleb and the mayor, and Bea is definitely keeping a tally in her notebook labeled ‘Potential Couples To Nudge’.
And me? I smile. I laugh. I eat two slices of strawberry chess pie and most of a soft pretzel without getting queasy. I even win a round of charades by dramatically acting out Titanic with Dee as my very unimpressed iceberg.
For a while, I almost forget.
Forget that anything’s wrong. Forget the exhaustion curled in my bones. Forget the future I haven’t figured out yet, growing quietly inside me.
But all that forgetting comes to a screeching halt the second the front door opens again, and Jace strolls in like game night is his idea of a wild night in.
He grins wide, holding up a six-pack of root beer. “Heard there was fun happening. Hope I’m not too late.”
My stomach drops.
Not because of Jace, even if he is pretty irritating at times.
