"Jamie!" But Alexandra's laughing. "I do no such thing. Though I did find that paper about food addiction and holidays fascinating."
"See?" Lola grins. "This is what we deal with. Please say you'll come to save us from the annual debate about whether turkey carving techniques reveal repressed childhood trauma."
A surprised laugh escapes me. When I glance at Jamie, his expression is so soft it makes my heart flip. Under the table,he slides his hand onto my knee and squeezes gently. My heart stutters in my chest.
"Wow, um, okay then." My throat is tight. "Thank you. I'd like that."
Her eyes flick between us, catching something in Jamie's tone or my expression, and she seamlessly shifts topics. But there's a knowing look in her eyes that makes me wonder just how much she sees.
The rest of dinner passes in a blur of academic discussions I can barely follow, hockey questions from Jamie's siblings that range from insightful to hilariously confused, and moments where Jamie's leg presses against mine under the table just long enough to make my breath catch.
Ben and Aleks fit seamlessly into the conversation, because of course they do: Ben's a doctor, and Aleks probably knows half the literature Jamie's dad keeps talking about. Meanwhile, I try not to look too obvious as I watch Jamie with his family. The way his whole face lights up when he laughs, and how he unconsciously leans toward his mom when she speaks. How even his most exasperated eye-rolls are full of obvious affection.
"More wine?" Alexandra offers, and I realize I've been quiet too long, lost in thought.
"No, thank you." I manage a smile. "Early flight tomorrow."
I catch Jamie watching me, something soft in his expression that makes my chest ache.
"Yeah," I say quietly.
And despite every instinct telling me to keep my distance, to protect myself, to stay safely behind my walls, I realize I'm looking forward to seeing this slightly eccentric family again.
"Jamie tells me you're from a small town in Ontario?" Alexandra asks as dessert arrives, some elaborate chocolate thing Jamie insisted we all try. "Near Toronto?"
"Yeah, it's a tiny little mining town outside of Sudbury," I say, hyperaware of Jamie watching me.
"Ah, a small-town boy!" Adam grins. "No wonder you and Jamie play so well together! Opposites attract and all that."
I nearly choke on the mousse.
"Adam," Jamie mutters, but he's fighting a smile.
"What? I just meant city boy versus country boy."
An hour later, as we're getting ready to leave, Alexandra pulls me aside while Jamie argues with his siblings about splitting the bill.
Her hand on my arm is gentle. "You know, Jamie's seemed different lately when we talk. Happier."
My heart nearly stops. "I…"
"You don't have to say anything." Her smile reminds me so much of Jamie's. "Just know that you're welcome. Anytime."
It's such a simple offer, but it cracks something open in my chest I've kept sealed since losing half my family, leaving me alone with Dad's grief and anger. Since I learned that loving people means losing them.
I manage to nod. I look up to find Jamie watching us, his expression soft.
As we say goodbye, there are more hugs, more warmth, and more casual affection between this family that makes my throat tight. It's been so long since I've had a real family, I think I'd forgotten how nice it is to be around one.
"Thanksgiving," Alexandra reminds me firmly. "No excuses."
"Okay. Thank you." I agree with a small smile.
As we finally head for the door, I risk one last glance at Jamie. He's watching me, that soft expression back in his eyes. For just a moment, I let myself imagine having this. Family dinners, easy affection. Feeling like I belong.
I'm smiling as we step into the cool Boston night, the warmth of the Pirelli family's acceptance wrapped around me like a cozy blanket.
Chapter 30
