around to lean against the counter. Minutes passed in silence. Gavin finally set his cup down. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t even look up. “For what?”
Gavin crossed the kitchen to stand next to her. Her hair had fallen across one cheek as she looked down. He brushed it back over her shoulder. “I w-w-was an asshole. I’m sorry.”
“You should never be sorry for speakin’ your truth.” She said it in a strange, Southern drawl, the one she used when quoting her Gran Gran. For as long as Gavin had known Thea, she’d had an endless well of her grandmother’s sage wisdom to draw upon.
Thea moved away from him and pointed in the general direction of all six pies. “These pies need to go out to the car.”
Gavin reached for her hand.
She yanked it from him. “There’s no point, Gavin. This will all be over after Christmas, anyway.”
She stormed away before he could answer. He heard her padded footsteps carrying her back upstairs. Gavin plunked his elbows on the counter and lowered his head into his hands.
“Rough night in the guest room?”
Gavin jumped and looked up. Liv had materialized out of nowhere. She’d worked so late last night that this was his first run-in with her since coming home. “What are the girls doing?”
“Running with scissors.”
His expression must have been thunderous because she backed down. “God, chill. They’re watching TV with the dog. I just ran up to get them some orange juice.”
She filled two small sippy cups, gave him a quizzical look, and returned the juice to the fridge. She started to leave but he stopped her.
“Liv.”
She turned around.
“Thank you for being here for Thea and the girls. I know you’ve been a big help.”
She snorted. “I didn’t do it for you, asshole.”
“I know. All the same . . .”
She rolled her eyes and headed toward the basement, but she stopped at the last minute and turned back around.
“Hey, Gavin?”
He looked up once more. She smiled in a dangerous way. “If you do anything to hurt my sister again, I will poison your protein powder. Happy Thanksgiving!”
Then she disappeared into the basement.
He busied himself for the next several minutes carrying all six pies out to the car and then wandered to the living room to call his parents just to get it over with. They still had a landline, and an unexpected voice answered the phone.
“You owe me for this,” his younger brother, Sebastian, hissed by way of saying hello.
“What’re you doing there?”
“Filling in for you. Mom was crying about how she wasn’t going to have any family with her this year for Thanksgiving, and the next thing I knew, I was packing my duffel bag. I’ve been up since five, since Mom has to get the turkey in early enough for us to eat by two.”
Gavin pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ll survive. Let me talk to Dad.”
“He’s in the shower. Talk to Mom.”
He tried to protest because there had to be a rule of some kind about the amount of time one had to wait between a conversation about jerking off and a phone call with one’s mother. But Sebastian had pulled the phone away from his ear.
A moment later, his mother got on the line. “Hey, honey! Happy Thanksgiving!”
“Hey, Mom. How big is the turkey this year?”
It was a running family joke that his mom always bought a turkey three times the size of what they actually needed. His mother lived in fear of people starving to death in her presence.
“Almost eighteen pounds,” she said. “He’s a big ’un.”
Gavin could picture her instantly. She was probably wearing her ruffled apron, the one she only wore on holidays. And she’d have her hair twisted on top of her head so it didn’t get in the way while she cooked. Pretty soon, she’d pour herself a mug of hot spiced cider from the slow cooker and she’d turn on Christmas music, because in the Scott household, Thanksgiving Day was officially the start of the Christmas season.
“I sure wish you guys were here,” she said. “I miss you and the girls. And Thea. Gosh, I’ve tried to call her several times for the past couple of weeks but keep getting her voicemail. Oh— did she get my email?”
“I have no idea.”
“Oh, well, she probably just didn’t tell you. I asked what the girls want for Christmas this year.”
“You could just ask me.”
She made a psh noise with her lips.
“You think I don’t know what my daughters want for Christmas? Geez, thanks.”
“I