Uncle Blaze:What kind of doughnuts?
A picture came in then, and though Harry had just enjoyed his own huge Thanksgiving feast—and the pie had already been served—he wanted that cookies ‘n cream doughnut instead of the pumpkin pie his wife had brought him.
Aunt Faith:Cash! Those look incredible.
Joey:You should join my bakery, Cash.
Cash:
Bryce:Happy Thanksgiving from us up here in Dog Valley!He’d sent a picture of him and his son, Matthew, both of them grinning from ear to ear.
Harry smiled at the picture too, because Bryce’s happiness made him experience joy in a different way than he ever had before.
Uncle Gabe:Aw, love this!
Momma:His little sweater is so cute.
That set off most of the aunts, and it came down to Aunt Abby finally getting on and admitting that she’d gotten Matthew’s sweater from her mother, who’d made it.
Harry didn’t know why they cared. Well, maybe Aunt Leigh. But the rest of the aunts had stopped having kids, and they had no need of a sweater for a two-year-old boy.
Aunt Leigh:They’re taking sign-ups for that soup class this weekend. Just FYI.
That had exploded the family text, and Harry scrolled past the community sign-ups and notices of activities happening in December. Perhaps next year, when he and Belle had their own baby, he’d be more interested in the lighting of Main Street, and pictures with Santa, and the cookie tasting event that needed judges.
He chuckled, because of course Uncle Luke had signed up for that, and he wasn’t surprised to see his own momma chiming in about the ice sculptures that would be in the downtown park starting the second week of December.
The timestamps on the texts took a break then, and then pictures started pouring in of perfectly golden turkeys, pretty bowls of cranberry sauce, and glistening, buttery, browned baked bread.
Codi had sent in a picture of her perfect apple pie, as she’d been working on it for months for tonight. Everything else on their dessert table here had come from Joey, which was as homemade as Harry got. He and Belle existed simply, on meals that took less than thirty minutes for them to put together, and he glanced up and over to his wife.
When they’d come up with the idea for the Young Family Media Group, he’d thought he’d finally found what he should be doing with his life. After a six-year country music career, thena couple of years off to focus on his personal life and return to his small-town roots, Harry had been wondering if he and Belle would simply write songs now. Raise their family in the shadow of the Teton Mountains, and lay on the couch together, and sell songs to mega-stars in Nashville.
It was exactly what he wanted, and yet, a slip of dissatisfaction had found its way into his soul.
Producing a holiday album for his daddy’s band—which was how Harry had truly gotten his start—felt like the exact right thing to do. And, if the company did well with that, Harry could publish his own records under the label. So could Belle, and they could take on people and projects they believed in.
The conversation had turned to Christmas, and OJ’s birthday, and Christmas Eve, and that was when the family text had taken off again.
“What do you think?” Bryce asked.
Harry looked over at his best friend and found Bryce had eaten all of his pie while he’d been staring at his phone. “About what?”
“I thought you’d gotten to the part about Bailey moving back to Coral Canyon.”
Harry’s eyes widened, and he glanced at his phone again. It had already gone dark. “No,” he said. “I didn’t see that.”
“Otis himself put it on the text.” Bryce nodded over to their uncle, who sat with Matthew, OJ, and Carver.
“But you knew,” Harry said, and it wasn’t a question.
Bryce nodded. “She talked to me about it a couple of months ago. She’s found a house and a place for her veterinary clinic.” He offered Harry a smile that didn’t stick around for long. “I didn’t know all of that, but I’m glad about it.”
“Are you?” Harry asked.
“One hundred percent,” Bryce said in his classic way. “She’s…I think she needs this to fully come back to herself.” He gave aquick shrug. “It’s been a long time, and while she’s been doing well these past few years, I think she needs this.”
He looked over to OJ. “He does too.”
