Page 95 of Hold Me Instead
“Mmm. Almost forgot it.”
“Yum,” Charlie added, getting to work, though she sent a few glances Brooke’s way. She noticed her mom and uncle were doing the same.
“I think we’ll be okay on the pie front, Brookie,” Carl said.
“What? Oh. Well, I thought it’d be nice for everyone to have their favorite. I have an extra pecan though, Charlie. Maybe the Lees would like it?”
Charlie straightened, surprised at the mention of Zachary’s family. They’d sent each other simple texts that morning. Today was family time. A holiday. Too serious for whatever it was brewing between them anyway.
“That’s sweet of you, Brooke,” Charlie said.
“It’s nothing.” Brooke forced a chuckle. “Forgot I made one yesterday. Was on a roll.”
“I’ll say,” Penelope muttered.
Charlie shot her mom a wide-eyed look, and Penelope gestured at the food and mouthed “What!”
“Someone’s ready to eat!” Amber walked in holding two-year-old Mina’s hand.
They doted on the little girl, her strawberry-blonde ringlets clipped away from her face with a rust-orange barrette that matched her sweater dress. Following Aunt Amber’s lead, she turned around and wiggled, showcasing the embroidered turkey feathers over her butt. She clappedalong, unsure of the joke but happy to be part of it. Brooke scooped her up with a kiss, then gave instructions to finish setting the table. Finally, they found themselves seated, a colorful feast in front of them on the tan linen tablecloth, a trio of pillar candles burning in their mismatched brass holders, flames dancing tentatively.
“Well, shall we?” Brooke said. She stood to serve turkey, and dishes made their way around, among bits of chatter about the meal.
“A little toast, Brooke?” Carl said, raising his glass.
If Charlie hadn’t been watching her closely, she would’ve missed the glimmer of irritation on Brooke’s face as she grabbed her glass of pinot.
“Sure, Dad,” Brooke said. “Go for it.”
Carl looked surprised at the green light to take the lead. Brooke ran many a show ever since her mom had passed. Carl had been lost without Charlie’s Aunt Dana, and Brooke had stepped into the role of problem-solver so quickly, Charlie didn’t know when she found time to handle her own emotions.
“To family,” Carl started. “I’m grateful for all of you, every day. And to Brooke, for hosting this wonderful meal.”
“Hear! Hear!” Amber said, leading the charge for everyone to take a sip. “Let’s eat.”
“Where’s Dadda?” Mina asked. She kicked her little legs up and down in her booster seat next to Brooke, large blue eyes staring as she chomped on a roll.
“Not here, honey,” Brooke said, looking at her almost empty glass of wine.
“Soon?” Mina asked.
“Nope,” Brooke said tightly.
Charlie’s eyes flew to Amber’s across the table.
“The turkey is delicious,” Carl said.
“You know, the recipe group was talking about ways to cook your turkey. Someone mentioned this thing called…shoot, what was it?” Penelope snapped her fingers a few times, trying to jog her memory. “The Egg? Yes, I think that was it.”
“Green Egg,” Amber said through a mouthful.
Penelope pointed at Amber in acknowledgment. “Yes. Green Egg. Thank you. You know about it?”
Penelope regaled them on various cooking topics from her online neighborhood group. It diverted conversation away from Brooke, who remained silent, forcing an occasional smile.
By the end of the meal, everyone was relaxed in their seats, pants loosened, dresses fanning.
“Amber, good Lord, what are you doing?” Penelope asked.
