Both Alec and Demarco nodded.
"That's—" Tyler grasped for words. "—awesome."
"See," Alec said. "Now, he's impressed."
"Well, let me go," said Demarco. "I've got a million things to do."
"Call me when you talk to her again."
"You know I will."
"Record it if you can."
"You're crazy."
"Hey, Demarco."
"Yes, Alec."
"You do deserve it... not just the show. I'm talking about Jack and Wilson."
"Don't make me cry."
"I'll hang up now."
"Love you."
"Love you too."
"Bye."
23
Thanksgiving.Melody, Montana.
"That meal was top-notch, Tyler. I am stuffed," Jack said, setting his wine glass down and gathering plates from the table.
"Well, I'm glad... and I wish I could take credit for it, but I only did the bird and the bread. Word got out that we were having company for the holiday and my squad took over."
"Squad?"
"Yeah, that's what Tyler calls them," Alec said from the couch in the den where Demarco had already joined him. "He's referring to our close friends here in Melody. You'll see the names on the containers."
Jack lifted the remains of a tamale casserole dish, looking beneath. On it was a piece of tape with an inscription in black Sharpie.
"Lisa Longfeather," Jack read.
"Hector's wife," said Alec. "Recently married and such a sweetheart."
"And a good cook too," Jack said, handing the dish to Tyler. "That was my favorite of all."
"The pies were pretty damn spectacular—I had both the pecanandthe pumpkin," Tyler said. "Those were Marge—"
"That's Buddy's wife," Alec whispered to Demarco.
"—and the broccoli casserole and mashed potatoes were Misty, my buddy Al Jarnigan's wife."
"Well, it was all amazing and delicious—I am sure you can tell by my unusual silence that I am full... and miserable," said Demarco. "But you need to put those dishes aside and get in here so that we can watch this."
