“Oh no.” I groan, covering my face as chuckles erupt around the table. “I thought we agreed never to speak of that again! I was trying to make sure the steak was cooked to perfection.”How was I to know the marinade would drip onto the coals and pretty much explode?
“Aw, cut him some slack, Cam,” Michael says, fighting to keep a straight face. “The boy gets points for trying!”
“More like foolhardiness,” Cam mutters, shaking his head, but he’s still grinning. “God, the smell of that burnt hair.”
I drop my voice for his ears only. “Just you wait, mister. I’ll get you back for this later.”
He leans in close, breath tickling my ear. “Looking forward to it, babe…”
My pulse kicks up a notch. I smirk and arch a brow. “Careful what you wish for…”
Turning back to my plate, I dig in while talk turns to other subjects—Michael’s latest project at the garage, Marnie’s volunteer work at the hospital, the old family recipes used for various dishes. The stuffing is a Walker tradition going back three generations, apparently. It’s nice to see the generations who are no longer with us being honored with these memories.
As I listen and savor each delicious mouthful of the meal, a profound sense of belonging settles deep in my bones. This is what Thanksgiving is truly about—loved ones gathered together, sharing food and stories and laughter. Making precious new memories to cherish always.
After the meal, Cam and I find ourselves alone in the kitchen, rinsing dishes, loading the dishwasher, and washing up the pots. As I hand Cam a serving platter to dry, my gaze lands on the array of framed photos lining the shelf above the sink. One in particular catches my eye—chubby-cheeked toddler with wild brown curls and a megawatt grin, chocolate smeared across his face.
“Aww… so cute!” I tease, nudging Cam playfully. “Looks like someone thoroughly enjoyed their birthday cake.”
Cam groans. “I thought Mom took that one down! So embarrassing…”
“Are you kidding? It’s precious! Baby Cam in all his messy cake-loving glory. That sweet tooth started early.” I press a smacking kiss to his cheek.
Cam shakes his head and reaches for the porcelain baby bowl nestled amongst the frames. His fingertips trace the delicate blue pattern. “I can’t believe she still has this old thing.”
“Of course she does. It’s a treasure, a symbol of her baby boy.” I wrap my arms around Cam from behind, hooking my chin over his shoulder. “Just like that Mother’s Day card on the fridge you made her when you were, what, six? Seven?”
Cam twists to look at the faded cardboard card displayed on the fridge, a child’s wobbly handwriting proclaiming “BEST MOM EVER!” in bright crayon. He huffs a little laugh. “Man, I poured my whole heart into that card. Spent days on it.”
“And she’s cherished it ever since. Because that’s what moms do. They save every precious memory, every little piece of your childhood. It’s all priceless to her.”
Cam turns in my arms, looping his own around my neck. His eyes shine with so much love, it steals my breath. “Yeah, she’s pretty amazing like that. The best mom a guy could ask for.”
“She really is,” I agree softly, leaning in until our foreheads touch. “We’re so lucky, Cam. Your family… they’ve accepted me completely, made me one of their own.”
“Mom and Dad adore you, babe. Because they see how happy you make me, how perfectly you fit in.” Cam smiles, tucking a curl behind my ear. “You’re part of the family, Greg, because you’re mine.”
Emotion clogs my throat. “And you’re mine.”
Our lips meet in a slow, sweet kiss. Cam’s mouth tastes sweet—
A throat clearing makes us jump apart like startled rabbits. I whip around to find Marnie leaning against the doorframe, eyes twinkling.
“Don’t stop on my account, boys! I think it’s wonderful, seeing you two so in love.” She waves a hand when Cam and I both start sputtering. “Oh, hush. Like I didn’t already know my son was a hopeless romantic at heart. You know… seeing you together, it takes me back. Reminds me so much of Michael and me at your age—young and crazy about each other, ready to build a beautiful life.” Her eyes mist over. “You two are going to make such a wonderful family of your own someday.”
Cam squeezes my hand. “You really think so, Mom?”
“Honey, I know so,” Marnie says firmly. “The love you boys have is a special kind of magic. Those will be the luckiest kids in the world, growing up surrounded by so much love.”
“That…” I shallow hard. “That means more than you know. Thank you, Marnie.”
She crosses to us, pulling us both into a tight hug. “It’s simply the truth. You two are going to be amazing fathers. And I can’t wait to spoil my grandbabies rotten!”
Cam grins. “They’ll be the most loved kids ever. By all of us.”
“Darn right they will!” Marnie says. Then she pulls back, swiping her eye with the back of her hand. “But all in good time, of course. No pressure from this mom, I promise. Whenever you’re ready, I’m just excited for the day I’ll have grandbabies to fuss over.”
“And maybe a new generation of Walker troublemakers for the photo shelf?” I add, indicating the frames.
