Page 13 of Once Upon a Thanksgiving
Connor is lounging at the kitchen table, eating pancakes drowned in syrup. He glances up and smirks. “Bet you’re counting the minutes until you get back to real coffee and bagels.”
I roll my eyes, but it’s half-hearted. “Sure, because nothing says luxury like microwaved ramen and emails at midnight.”
Mia flops onto the bench beside me, her arm winding around my shoulder. “You don’t have to go, you know. Mom will keep your room forever. We’d all love it if you stayed a few more days.”
“Would you?” I tease, blinking back tears.
She looks at me, serious for once. “You’re my best friend, Autumn. I want you to be happy. I like Jack for you. Even if he’s too handsome for his own good.”
Dad ducks in from outside, rubbing his gloved hands together. “Got one last family ready to pick up their tree, but otherwise we’re winding down.” It isn’t smart business, but we are always closed on Sunday afternoons. Mom always said we deserved family time on the weekends, too.
As the morning slips by, I wander the tree lot. I watch for Jack, wishing he’d give me a sign, say something that might make this ending easier.
I finally spot him near the barn, showing a little boy how to tie down a tree. He looks up, catches my gaze, and for a moment, time stops. His smile is hesitant, guarded, but warm. I almost cross the field to him, but I freeze.
After the last car leaves, I slip inside to finish packing, folding each shirt like it matters, stalling for time. My hands tremble as I zip the suitcase, my heart pounding with every step.
Mia pokes her head in, phone in hand, eyes a little red. “If you want to talk before you go…”
I shake my head, voice thick. “I can’t. Not yet.”
She hugs me hard —so hard it hurts —then lets go. “Promise me you’ll call. Promise me you won’t shut us out if you’re sad.”
“I promise,” I whisper, and it’s almost true.
I move through the kitchen, where Mom slips a wrapped tin of cookies into my bag and kisses my cheek, whispering, “Be brave. Love is always a risk, but it’s worth it.”
Connor gives me a high five and a side-hug, muttering, “Don’t let anyone boss you around out there.”
We laugh, but my heart aches with every word.
Dad loads my suitcase into the trunk of my old car, ruffles my hair, and gives me a look that says,You’ll always have a place here.
Then it’s time. No more stalling.
Jack is waiting on the porch, hands jammed in his coat pockets, shoulders tense. The sky is clear, bright blue above the silver-dusted pines, everything heartbreakingly perfect.
He looks at me like he wants to speak, but the words catch on his tongue. I see the struggle in his eyes.
I set my tote bag down, just for a moment, and step into his arms. We hold each other in the cold, both of us breathing eachother in, memorizing the way we fit. I want to beg him—please, say something, give me a reason—but the words stick.
He runs a hand down my back, slow and reverent, like he knows this might be our last touch. “I wish—” he begins, but then stops, shaking his head.
“Me too,” I whisper.
He pulls back, cupping my face in his big, rough hands, searching my eyes. “You’re incredible, Autumn. You made this place feel like home again.”
A tear slips down my cheek, and he kisses it away, mouth lingering at my temple.
“Jack, if you ever…” I start, then falter.
He smiles, so sad it almost breaks me. “I know.”
Mia and Connor are watching from the window, Mom’s wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Dad stands guard by my car, pretending not to see.
I finally pull away, my heart in pieces. Jack squeezes my hand, thumb tracing circles over my knuckles. “Drive safe, okay? Text when you get home.”
I nod, voice gone. “I will.”
