Page 81 of Holiday Hopefuls
Turns out that doesn’t help anything.
Lodge attendants rush past us on the stairs. Arms full of the twins’ luggage, I’m sure they’re both well-informed of Chris’s fiery temper.
“Hello, Calloway. Oliver,” Connie calls as she moves farther into the house, “it’s lovely to have you with us.” A broad smile reaches across the room, practically hugging me already.
Behind her, Chris peers at Oliver and I in turn. At least he’s not scowling. Entirely.
“Hey Connie,” I grin. Once my eyes leave my favorite sibling, I allow my smile to become so wide I’m practically the Cheshire Cat. “Christopher.”
Chris grunts in response as he passes by to head upstairs.
Oliver watches my brother walk by with an amused expression, the corners of his lips twitching.
“Ignore him,” Connie says, “he just got out of a pretty abysmal meeting. The stakeholders decided to give him a call on the drive up here and go for a second round.”
Smirking at my sister, I roll my eyes. “Aren’t all meetings about finances a drag?”
To her credit, she laughs. “Something like that, I guess,” she says, stepping around us and heading up the stairs after Chris.
Oliver frowns. “Do they share a room?”
“Not since they were ten. Why?”
“Huh. Based on their interdependency, I’m honestly kinda surprised.”
I shrug. Taking his hand, I lead him toward the dining table that’s already set for dinner. I make the executive decision on our seating choice and motion for him to follow. “They live together, if that makes you feel any better.”
Oliver looks at me, clearly trying to tell if I’m kidding or not.
Steak, mashed potatoes, corn, carrots, green beans, bread, and butter await us, giving off a mouthwatering aroma as we take our seats.
“We always eat dinner together when we’re here,” I explain, sitting down. “Breakfast and lunch are usually on our own, but dinner is supposed to make us feel like a family.”
Prescott scoffs from across the table. He looks up from helping Goldie stuff a napkin into the front of her Scooby-Doo shirt. “That’s because we are a family, Calloway.”
“Hello, Oliver.” Mom’s velvet voice typically reserved for important business associates is on full display for my fake boyfriend that I am currently trying to deny some very real feelings for. Making her way from the kitchen with a second full bread basket in hand, she stops just short of falling completely over Oliver in adoration. “I’m so glad you were able to join us after all. I’ll admit I was disappointed when Calloway told us you would be out of town for the holiday.”
An easy smile slides onto his face. “Thank you so much for having me, Lillian. This place is amazing.”
“Have you never been up to Aspen Point?” she asks, the thought incomprehensible to her. Placing the bread on the table, she moves out of Imogene’s way as my sister transports more food in our direction.
Oliver fluffs his napkin, placing it in his lap. “I’ve never had the chance. My family has always been fairly modest and, when we have traveled, it was usually to see my grandmother back home.”
Mom takes a seat on the opposite end of the table from Dad, settling in for the meal. She waves a hand toward us. “I don’t know what you’re all waiting for. Dig in. The twins will be down whenever they’re ready.”
I don’t wait for any further invitation, spooning some corn onto my plate. I’d be lying if I said my mouth wasn’t watering like I haven’t eaten in days.
The chair beside me scoots back from the table, Imogene gracefully slipping into it before preparing her own food.
Oliver and I settle into a steady rhythm of passing around food and accidentally bumping into one another on purpose.
Gotta look like that couple that’s sickeningly in love and whatnot. Which is annoyingly easy. Especially since every time Oliver touches me in any capacity, blood rushes to my cheeks, making my little niece giggle.
One time, Oliver even winks at her, clearly considering my blushing some kind of new toy he’s discovered.
If those two get in cahoots, I don’t know what I’ll do.
By the time Chris and Connie come back downstairs, the sun has set and nearly half the food has gone to a happy place. “Gee, thanks for bothering to save us some,” Chris grumbles.
