Dinner winds down, and as expected, half the kids scatter, leaving me with the mess.
Before I can even think about tackling it, the doorbell rings.
I check the time.Damn.That went by fast.
Wiping my hands on a kitchen towel, I head for the door.
Sophia beats me to it, throwing it open, and there stands Adrian.
He hasn’t changed, still in the same clothes as earlier.Like he had no intention of trying for this.
I smile.“Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You already said that,” Adrian replies dryly.
Keith steps up beside him, nudging him lightly.“Be nice.”
“Yeah, be nice,” I echo, smiling.
Adrian grunts, but his lips twitch like he’s the tiniest bit amused.
I’ll take that as a win.
Chapter 11
Adrian
Thehouseisstillbusy with activity.Felix plays with toys, Jasper and Atlas are glued to their games, Hazel and Sophia stay in the living room.Amelia’s mom remains curled up on the recliner, eyes fluttering closed every few seconds like she’s fighting a losing battle with exhaustion.
The pie’s long gone, just a few slices left.Everyone had seconds, and I can see why.I’ve never tasted anything quite like it.Now I understand the hype about them.
Keith’s off in a corner, talking to one of Amelia’s brothers about fixing something.And then there’s Amelia.
She’s cleaning up.Alone.
I watch her as she moves through the kitchen, her shoulders slightly tense, her hands working efficiently.There’s something about it that doesn’t sit right with me.It’s not that she looks upset… She just looks like someone who must always do things on her own.And I know what that’s like.
Without saying a word, I rise and grab a stack of plates.The big table is still a mess from dinner, and if she’s planning on tackling that solo, it’ll take all night.
I carry the plates into the kitchen, moving loudly, but she still doesn’t notice me.She’s standing at the sink, rinsing off dishes, completely focused.
Then she turns.
We’re toe to toe.
She gasps.“Oh, my God!You scared me.”
I shift the plates in my hands, holding them up slightly.“Didn’t mean to.”Our eyes lock, and for a second, neither of us say anything.
I clear my throat.“I just… didn’t want you to clean up alone.You’ve done enough today, and I bet you’re exhausted.”
She gives a small shrug, like she’s trying to downplay it.“I mean, I get some help.It’s not too bad.”
But I can see the truth: she does this more often than she should.What must it be like to take care of this many people, to have so many people rely on you?I’ve only ever had to take care of Dad and now myself.
“It’ll be quicker if we do it together.”
She hesitates, but then nods and takes the plates from my hands.As our fingers brush, I feel it… a weird little thump in my chest.Her eyes widen slightly, and I know she felt it too.The air between us crackles with unspoken words.
