Page 97 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

“Hey, I heard that. I’ll have you know, I don’t have a single gray hair.”

“Because you went to the hairdresser’s three days ago and they covered them all up,” Dad teases, making both Garrett and me snort a laugh. Mom, however, isn’t so amused.

“I don’t have any grays to cover up. And anyway, at least I have hair,” she says pointedly at Dad.

He shrugs and proudly rubs his bald head.

“I hope I get Mom’s hair genes. I don’t think a bald head will suit me,” Garrett states.

“Yeah, you’ve got a funny-shaped head,” Dad agrees. “Thought something was wrong when you were born.”

Mom sighs in exasperation as she hands Dad the knife to carve the turkey.

“Can we all stop arguing so we can eat in peace?”

“I mean, we can try. But your son is really annoying.”

Dad is forced to smother his laugh before Mom notices.

“Thank you, darling,” he says politely as he takes the knife from her, giving her a smile that makes me incredibly happy and jealous all at the same time. Mom and Dad were high school sweethearts, and after all these years, they’re just as happy as they were as teenagers. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone,” Dad says before carving up the turkey that’s large enough to feed at least five thousand, not just the four of us. I can already predict a phone call with Dad in a few weeks in which all he does is complain about the amount of turkey Mom has forced him to eat. He is nothing if not predictable, and I love him immensely for it.

“This looks incredible,” Garrett says as he begins helping himself to a little bit of everything on offer on the table before us.

I rush to do the same. I might have filled up on waffles this morning, but that was hours ago, and it’s Thanksgiving. It would be rude not to eat my body weight today. I’ll regret it and have to spend every day between tomorrow and Christmas Eve trying to shed the extra pounds, but it’ll still be worth it.

“Ah ah ah,” Mom chastises, catching Garrett before he shovels a forkful of yams into his mouth. “You know the rules.”

He huffs in faux annoyance.

“I’ll start,” Mom continues as she looks each of us in the eyes one at a time. “I am thankful for my family. I’m thankful to have two incredibly successful and happy children who are still willing to come home and spend the holidays with us.”

It’s the same version of what she says every year. And as predicted, Dad follows up with a similar sentiment, but also adds how lucky he is to have such an incredible wife.

“Someone wants some tonight,” Garrett mutters under his breath.

“Ew,” I complain as Mom snaps his name. Dad, however, lets out a full belly laugh.

Oh God. He does.

Of course our parents have sex. It’s probably one of the reasons why they still laugh so much with each other. But the less I think about what happens when they’re alone in this house, the better.

“Honey, what are you thankful for this year?” Mom asks, her focus on me, quickly followed by the other two. But it’s Garrett’s eyes that really bore into me.

My stomach knots. I don’t need to think too hard about what, or should I say who, I’m thankful for right now. But there’s no way I can say his name without everyone at the table losing their minds.

“I’m…um…thankful for Bea and the salon and how it’s growing. And…” I swear, Garrett actually leans forward in his chair. “I’m thankful for…new friends.”

I can’t help but laugh at the dramatic way my brother rolls his eyes.

“Garrett, leave your sister alone. She’s allowed to have secrets,” Mom chastises.

“I know, but the smile he puts on her face…I’m dying to know more.”

“When the time is right, she’ll share. Isn’t that right, honey?”

I hold Garrett’s stare. “Maybe.”

“Ugh.” He throws his hands up in despair.