“You do seem more relaxed.” I kiss the side of his neck, right over the claiming mark that’s healed into a pale scar.
He shivers and pushes me away. “Don’t start something you can’t finish in your parents’ bathroom.”
I waggle my eyebrows. “Who says I can’t finish it? We have fifteen minutes until dinner.”
His laugh verges on a giggle and he leaves the bathroom quickly.
The dining room table is dressed for the occasion. A red linen runner stretches down the center, flanked by tall red candles and a garland. The wine glasses catch light from the flickering candles, and each place setting has a small candy cane resting across the folded napkin. The ham sits in the middle, golden and glistening, surrounded by roasted vegetables,mashed potatoes, homemade rolls, and a cranberry relish that Mom makes.
We crowd around the table. Mom and Dad at each end, Jack and Priya on one side, Jude and me on the other. Duke has stationed himself under the table near Jude’s feet, his warm weight resting across both our shoes.
Dad carves the ham and Mom passes dishes around. Jack is already loading his plate to capacity and Priya looks on as if impressed. Jude reaches for the rolls, laughing at something my dad said. Watching him makes my heart swell. Thanksgiving, he seemed subdued, and afraid to speak in case he said something wrong. Now he knows he belongs here, and that makes me so damn happy.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Mom says, setting down her wine glass. “Kara called this morning to wish everyone a Merry Christmas. She’s at her parents’ place in California. She sounded good.”
I glance at Jude. His expression is neutral. “It’s nice of her to call,” I say.
Mom says, “I was glad to hear her voice.”
“She used to help you a lot in the kitchen too,” Dad says.
“She sure did.” Mom smiles gently. “She asked about you, Jude. She said to tell you merry Christmas.”
Surprise flickers across his face. “Really?”
“Really,” Mom says.
Jude clears his throat. “If you talk to her again, tell her thank you from me for getting me out of my deposit on that rental house. I thought I was going to lose it for sure when I moved in with Liam instead.”
“I’ll tell her. She’s a good girl.” Mom picks up her wine again. “I hope she finds the right one, the way Liam did.”
I reach under the table and squeeze Jude’s knee. He puts his hand over mine briefly, then goes back to eating. It’s a small moment, but it matters. Kara wishing Jude a merry Christmas means she’s finding her way toward acceptance, and that eases a guilt I’ve been carrying since the night I broke her heart.
The conversation flows easily. Priya turns out to be a veterinarian who moved to the mountain last year. That revelation leads to a ten-minute discussion about Duke’s dietary needs that Jude follows with intense focus. Jack keeps interrupting their conversation, trying to impress Priya with increasingly dubious stories about his heroic firefighting exploits. She playfully calls him out for his exaggerations, which makes everyone, including Jack, laugh.
During it all, Mom keeps trying to give Jude more food. She seems to have a compulsion to feed him anytime she’s around him.
He grimaces as she tries to put another slice of ham on his place. “Oh, I don’t think I should eat more.”
“That’s not a no,” she says, dropping another thick slice on his plate. “You should probably have more potatoes too.”
He looks at me helplessly and I just shrug. “You knew what you were getting into.”
“What?” he laughs incredulously. “I had no idea what I was getting into.”
“It’s just food,” Mom says. “It won’t kill you.”
Jude grimaces, rubbing his stomach. “It could literally kill me. My stomach is going to explode.”
She waves him off. “Be sure to leave room for pie.”
Jude gapes at her. “How will I have room for pie after all this food?”
After dinner, we migrate to the living room. The fire is blazing and the tree lights cast a soft glow across the room. Jack and Priya share the loveseat. Mom and Dad take their usual spots. Jude and I settle onto the couch, and Duke jumps up and wedges himself between us before either of us can object.
“Duke, down,” Jude says without much conviction. Duke stays where he is. Jude strokes his ears, looking nervously at Mom. “You’re going to get us into trouble, boy.”
Mom smiles. “Oh, he can stay on the couch. Don’t worry about it, Jude. Poor baby needs a little pampering.”
