“The tech world doesn’t stop for American holidays, Cheyenne.” The condescension in his voice is so familiar it barely registers anymore.
I grab my items from the backseat and plaster on a smile. “Just ... try to have fun, okay? These people are important to me.”
Garrett gives me his professional smile—the same one he uses in corporate headshots and networking events. Perfect teeth, zero warmth. “Of course. I’ll be the perfect boyfriend.”
The irony of that statement isn’t lost on me as we make our way to the front door. Especially considering our temporary breakup just a few weeks ago. But here we are, back together, like we always end up.
And somehow, despite spending four years together, Garrett has only come tooneother Williamston family Thanksgiving—whether due to work or family obligations, he just wasn’t able to make it. But we both agreed it would be good for him to show face today to try to make amends with Dylan after their heated confrontation the other night.
Before I can knock, the door swings open to reveal Mrs. Williamston whose first name is Macy, wearing her traditional Thanksgiving apron covered in embroidered turkeys. “Chey! It’s so good to see you! It’s been too long.”
“Yes, it has.” I wrap my arm around the small, fiery dark-headed woman, enjoying the comfort that her embrace brings. She’s the closest thing I have to a mom stateside, since mine moved to Europe with her surgeon husband years ago. “I’m so glad to be back.”
She kisses my temple just before we release, then turns her attention to Garrett, who’s a couple of feet behind me. “Nice to see you again, Garrett.” Her tone is light and welcoming, everything about her being the older version of Genna. I never thought the two of them looked the same when we were growing up, but now?
Oh yeah. They could be twins with a twenty-five-year age gap.
“Thanks for having me.” Garrett gives her a grin, smoothing out his burnt-orange pullover once more. I’m in a dark brown sweater and light wash jeans, my hair carefully curled into loose waves. I have to make sure I look nice for the holiday...
And totally unassuming for what I’m sure is to come with pranks.
“C’mon in.” Macy leads us through the foyer to the sitting room, which is just off the dining room. The house is an old Victorian-style place, situated far away from the chaos of thecity. You’d never have guessed this is where Dylan and Genna were raised, or that their mom loves horses. It’s a quiet place, and the Williamstons make it a point to keep the house as original as possible, only adding chic décor and updates to make it a little more modern.
“So, we’ll be eating in about an hour,” she goes on to say, pausing at the entrance of the formal dining room. “Genna’s in the living room. And now we’re just waiting on Dylan.”
“What’s new?” I giggle, and then remember the pie in my arms. “Speaking of...”
Macy, glances down at my arms. “I have a feeling that’snotwhat I think it is. I know I didn’t ask you to make a pie...” The humor in her tone has me giggling.
“It’s just for Dylan, actually,” I clarify through a snort. “I’m sure he’s going to really,reallylike it.”
“Oh, I bet he will.” Macy takes it from me, and then calls back to the kitchen, where I’m sure Mr. Williamston, aka Greg, is still busy. “We have a pie from Cheyenne. Don’t eat it.”
“Got it!” he calls back, his deep voice rumbling through the house.
“I can’t wait to see what happens.” She gives me a smile and then slips away, disappearing around the corner.
“I can’t believe everyone supports these childish games,” Garrett groans, his voice almost too quiet to hear. “I don’t understand it at all. You spent more time on that nasty thing than any grown adult ever should.”
“It’s all in good fun,” I say, dismissing his attitude about it with a light wave. “Come on, let’s go sit with Genna.” I thread my arm through his.
He stiffens. “I forgot how ... vintage this place is,” he remarks.
“It’s basically a historic landmark,” Genna says from where she sits, her eyes still fixated on the TV as we plop down on a black velvet couch. She looks over at the two of us from a deep red floral armchair. “My mom is dead set on making us all feel like we’ve stepped back in time.”
Garrett makes a face. “Right ... because that makessomuch sense, given that there’s full plumbing and—”
“And decorations that are at least a century old,” Genna finishes for him. “Did you know that the dining table we’re about to sit atcamewith this abandoned house when my parents bought it as a young married couple? My mom loved it so much that she decided to keep it.”
“That’s weird.”
“I think it’s sweet,” I speak up. “I love the way your parents have made this place their own over all the years.”
“It’s not even a little creepy to you?” Garrett turns to me, his brow furrowing. “And why would you want all the problems that come with owning a house this old? It seems like it would be more hassle than it’s worth.”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I guess I just find it charming. I’ve practically grown up here, and it seems like the only thing that’s changed is the pictures in the frames.”
“Some of them.” Genna frowns, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Let’s not forget that Mom still won’t take down my horrendous school picture from the seventh grade, where I had bracesandglasses.”
