The second that my father made the first cut into the juicy, roasted turkey, the family erupted into joyful cheers and clinked our various glasses of whiskey, wine, and in my brother’s case, a newly opened can of beer. I felt my cheeks strain as I smiled widely, feeling incredibly content in this moment.
It was still very early in the evening, but the house was darker than usual from the heavy clouds that came in about an hour ago, making it feel much later than it was. We could hear the house creak and moan as the wind outside gained speed, promising the arrival of a very active storm.
Rachel tucked herself beside Adam, wrapping her small arm around his waist, and I saw them briefly look at each other with so much tender appreciation. I found my mother watching Dad with adoration in her eyes as he cut through the turkey she’d worked so hard on.
My eyes flitted to Logan next, standing there across the island, and for what felt like the hundredth time today, I saw that he was watching me. I didn’t miss the way his eyes all but lit up, like a golden spark flashing within those rich, amber hues.
I felt a burst of longing ignite inside of me, suddenly desperate to move closer to him, to tuck myself into him as Rachel did with Adam. But I held my position, knowing that our recent truce could only exist if I stayed firm in the boundaries that I’d foolishly disregarded so long ago. Since being in Breckenridge, I could feel the budding possibility of a genuine friendship again, and I couldn’t—wouldn’t—do anything to risk that.
I tore my eyes away from him and focused back on the beautiful turkey. When my father had finished cutting the meat and expertly presenting it on a platter, we all grabbed plates and began loading them with the feast before us.
Logan came around the island on the hunt for the loaded mashed potatoes that were in front of me, and I felt his arm brush against mine as he reached for them. The deep stirring in my belly at the feeling of him so near me was a glaring indication that I needed to reestablish my own internal boundaries.
Rule number one, keep at least three feet between us at all times.
I took a few steps away from him, busying myself with adding creamed corn and glazed ham to my plate, when I felt him coming near me again. I moved swiftly down the island, building my plate full of food, before I grabbed my glass of wine and headed into the dining room.
My father followed behind me, settling in his seat at the head of the table to my left. “You must be hungry, Amelia. I’ve never seen you move so quickly to sit down!”
I gulped down a large sip of wine in response. My mother walked in a moment later and placed herself at the opposite end of the table from my father, smiling appreciatively at our full plates of food. Adam and Rachel moseyed in not long after, sitting next to each other across from me, which meant . . .
Logan came around the corner, eyeing the open chair next to me.So much for three feet.
He pulled his chair out and sat down, and I swore I heard him hum in approval before my father cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention.
“It has been some time since the whole family was here together,” he started, looking toward Logan with a twinkle in his eye, “and I feel overwhelmingly grateful to have you all at this table.”
“Oh, Richard,” my mother whispered to herself, already dapping her napkin to her eye.
“I know this isn’t something we normally do, but I would like to borrow the Thanksgiving tradition of going around the table to give thanks for something meaningful to you. Adam, you start.”
Adam dipped his head before he looked at Rachel. “I’m thankful for her,” he said. And that was it. He didn’t say anything else, and I felt such joy for my brother at that moment.
Rachel, who was positively beaming as she looked back at him, spoke next. “I’m so thankful to be here with you all, now having met Adam’s wonderful family. He’s such a good man, and I can see where he gets it from,” she said.
My mother dabbed at her eyes again. “Oh goodness, you kids. It simply means the world to us that we can keep getting together like this. I’m so proud of you all, and so thankful that you are all such strong, happy adults.” She looked at Logan as she finished speaking, smiling brightly at him.
Logan looked around the room at everyone before he started speaking. “I know I’ve been really busy these last couple of years, and I regret not being around last year. But please know that I am thankful everysingleday for all of you.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure I would be here today if it weren’t for your continuous love and support. So, thank you.”
“Oh, Logan!” My mother burst into tears as she grabbed his hand. “You are such a blessing to us.”
I felt my own eyes burn with the tears that were forming, but I quickly shoved the emotion down just as everyone turned in my direction for my turn to give thanks. “Um,” I started, looking down at my napkin as a swirling mix of nerves came over me. I looked at Adam. “I’m thankful for my family who lets me mildly fall apart so that I can build myself back up.” I quickly glanced at Logan before looking back down at my napkin. “And . . . I’m thankful for new beginnings.”
I heard my father clap his hands together, prompting me to look back up. “That was very inspired. Thank you everyone.” He looked down at his plate. “Now, let’s eat!” The clinking of utensils on plates took up space as we all quieted to shovel the amazing food into our mouths. Besides the occasional hum of appreciation, no one spoke again for several minutes.
Eventually, my father began asking Rachel questions about her work with medical device modeling, which led to further discussion about hospital-related qualms. Next to me, Logan was talking to my mother about his auto shop and the hurdles he’d had to overcome over the last year as a new business owner. As I listened in, something that he said caught my attention.
“I have a really strong team and we do great work. I’m so proud of all the business that we’ve continued to bring in. But I do sometimes worry about the future and making sure that I can keep us all consistently busy. I’m trying to figure out how to get a website built, but I’m not very techy so I keep putting it off.”
“I can help with that,” I heard myself chime in. For the second time today my mouth acted completely on its own, as if disconnected from my brain, to volunteer myself up to Logan.
Logan turned his head and in some fleeting surge of magic, the sun broke out through the clouds at a near-perfect angle, casting a warm ray of light through the window and over his face. In the glow, his eyes became a pure gold fantasy, and for a moment I was completely transfixed.
Rule number two, don’t look him directly in the eye for more than a quick, sheepish second.
“I . . . um . . .” I continued, “I can build websites. And I can help with any other general marketing things you might need, like social media, or email campaigns . . .”
“That’s right,” Logan interjected with a slight smile. “I forgot you were at a marketing firm.”
