truth to yourself.
There was also fear.
For now, she decided to forget about the fear and focus on the possibility of not only sharing a child with Ethan, but a life with the man she supposed she’d always loved. Some folks might find it strange that she’d carved out a place in her heart for two men. And maybe it was. However…
For the first time in weeks, Emily slept like a baby.
Chapter Fourteen
Thanksgiving was a favorite at the Caldwell home.
In the days leading up to that special Thursday, Simone got busy baking pies and cookies and squares, while Frank strung their Christmas lights outside, decorated the interior, and did up a fresh traditional cornucopia centerpiece for the dining room table. On the day of, they listened to Creedence and the Stones, humming along to “Angie” or “Bad Moon Rising” while they worked together in the kitchen. Simone, with her creamy mashed potatoes, fresh-baked buns, sweet potato balls, honey carrots and turnip, and homemade cranberry sauce, cooked up a storm. And Frank, who was in charge of the biggest turkey he could find, did a stellar job roasting it.
It was a day of food, family, and football, and, if the weather permitted, skating on the pond out back with friends, topped off by a bonfire and hot chocolate. If it snowed, all the better.
It had been that way for as long as Ethan could remember, though this year was different for a few reasons. First off, he hadn’t stumbled through his parents’ front door midafternoon because he’d kept company with a bottle of tequila until six a.m. Hell, he’d been up before the crack of dawn because the damn sofa at Emily’s was too small for his tall frame, which meant he’d been on time, if a little stiff and sore.
Secondly, there was Emily. She was part of this. It wasn’t as if she’d never spent Thanksgiving with him and his folks but still, it was different. Truthfully, there’d been more than a few times when she’d come for Thanksgiving dinner because her mother wasn’t around and Rick’s family had always headed out of town for the holiday. But back then, she’d been Rick’s girl, not the mother-to-be of the first Caldwell grandchild.
And Lord, but his mother was fussing over Emily, while treating Ethan like he was still a wet-behind-the-ears fifteen-year-old. His winter coat wasn’t warm enough. Apparently, neither were his boots. She got Emily water and snacks and a blanket because her feet were cold. She’d clucked over Ethan because she thought he looked pale, and checked to make sure his stitches were good. She frowned and gave him the stink-eye when he told her he was heading out to shovel the snow from the pond.
“What about your wrist?”
“It’s fine.” He pushed open the front door.
“Put on a hat, Eth,” she said, watchful eyes on him.
“Gosh, we can’t have the prodigal son catching a cold,” Georgianna said, striding up the pathway.
“You’re late,” Simone replied, dropping a kiss to her daughter’s cheek before she moved aside to let her in.
“And Ethan’s early. Is this some kind of parallel universe?”
“Maybe,” he replied.
“Is Emily inside?” Georgianna asked, shucking off her boots, eyes on Ethan.
“Yeah. Mom’s got her wrapped up like a cocoon. She’s probably asleep in front of the fire.” Ethan pulled a knit hat from his coat pocket, held it in the air for his mom to see, and pulled it on. He gave his mother the thumbs-up and escaped outside before she noticed he hadn’t pulled on a second pair of socks.
“Dinner is in an hour,” Simone said just before the door closed behind him. Ethan pulled on his gloves and made his way around the house to the shed out back. After he retrieved a shovel, he followed a snow-covered path that cut through the trees at the back of his parents’ property and led to a large pond. The Caldwells technically lived in town, but their home was located at the very edge in an older section that boasted big lots set back among a forest of trees. There were two benches to his right and a large firepit to his left. And, as his gaze swept the area, at least a foot of snow over the entire pond.
He grabbed the shovel and got busy, enjoying the silence that came with a snow-blanketed forest and the exertion that came with shoveling. It made it easy for him to forget. To not think about Emily and all those things she’d said,