Page 9

CHAPTER

EIGHT

FORD

The following week, I’m at my parent’s in Ohio for Thanksgiving. I don’t always get to come home for holidays, but we happened to have four days between games, so I took advantage of the lapse in our schedule.

I’m in the kitchen with my mom, where she has me stirring the gravy. I glance around the room while I stir. Their house is the complete opposite of mine. But I love it, nonetheless. Being home makes everything…easier. I can relax in my parent’s dated nineties-style home in the Dayton suburbs and be myself. If I don’t make enough eye contact or say the right thing, Amber and my family won’t judge me or think I’m weird. My family, and Amber, are the only people in my life who know about my Asperger’s—er, high-functioning autism. I’ve carefully guarded the information so the media won’t bombard me.

Mom knows I’m comfortable with silence. Unfortunately, my peaceful moment doesn’t last long. She abruptly turns to me, pinning me with her blue eyes, and asks, “So sweetie, are you dating anyone?”

I blink a few times since I wasn’t prepared for this question. “ That was abrupt.”

Her slim shoulders sag, and she wipes her hands on her checkered apron and leans against the counter. “You’re handsome, successful, wonderful…” She fusses with her salt-and-pepper bob as she speaks—it’s what she does when she’s worried.

I interrupt her. “Mom, stop. You don’t need to worry about me.”

She pushes off the counter and grabs the large goggles beside her, fixing them on top of her head. She always wears them to slice the turkey since getting turkey juice in her eye a few years ago. “I don’t want you to be alone. I know it’s hard for you to open up to people. But you’re such a wonderful person. Your sisters are settling down and falling in love, while you’re all alone in D.C.” She sighs. “Farrah is already married, and even thinking about children, even Felicity is getting serious with the young man she’s been dating. I just hate the thought of you being lonely while your younger sisters are moving forward with their lives.”

I meet her gaze, knowing it puts her mind at ease for some reason. Why do people want eye contact? It’s so weird. “I’m very successful, Mom. Some parents dream of their sons making it to the NHL.”

“I don’t care what you do for a living, Ford. I just want you to be happy. We’re proud of you, always have been…but it’s hard sometimes to know how wonderful you are and to see you all alone.” She pats me on the chest lovingly. “I want you to have someone to share all that success with.”

I heave a heavy sigh. I hate that all these years after my diagnosis, my parents still worry about me. As if I haven’t proven I can be a thriving and successful adult. It feels like no matter what, they will always, always worry about my well-being .

But being alone has never bothered me. And I have friends, I have a life. I’m not cowering under tables when I get overwhelmed anymore. I’ve learned to live with the challenges of being neurodivergent. I know Mom didn’t mean to offend me, that she means well…but her words still make my whole body feel tense. My skin prickles in that irritating way that it has since I was a kid whenever I get upset.

“When will Amber be here?” Mom asks, changing the subject. It’s like she can read my thoughts. And honestly, maybe she can. The woman has always seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere.

I count to three and exhale a calming breath before I glance up at the giant rooster-shaped clock above the stove. It’s almost three in the afternoon. “She should be here any minute.” A smile tugs at my mouth, and all those itchy, prickly feelings start to fade.

My sisters must hear the mention of Amber and bound into the small but cozy kitchen that’s lined with oak cabinets in an ugly, orange wood-stain.

“Did somebody say Amber is here?” My youngest sister, Felicity, asks. Her dark hair is pulled up in a bouncy ponytail and she has a white ribbon tied around it like she’s thirteen instead of twenty-eight.

My middle sister, Farrah, has the same dark hair as Felicity and me, but hers’ is styled neatly and flows down her back. I think she must’ve used one of those hair straightener thingies. Her wedding ring flashes as she demurely tucks her hair behind one ear, but I notice Connor isn’t here with her. He always seems to put work over everything else, even his own wife. I’ve never liked the guy. I remember Mom’s comment about her thinking about having kids, and my eyebrows draw together .

“I can’t wait to hold Nella,” Farrah says, her face lighting up.

“Women and babies,” I mutter, earning a smack on my shoulder from Felicity.

The neutral expression I have plastered on my face is making me a big liar, because I can’t wait to see Nella again. It’s weird how having Nella and Amber in my home for a weekend felt more normal than it ever did without them.

The doorbell rings and my dad yells from the living room, where he’s been watching the Thanksgiving Day parade, that he’s getting the door.

I eye my sisters, and then we all bolt out of the kitchen, through the living room, and to the front door in a race to see who can get there the fastest.

Not much has changed since we were kids.

“Whoah, whoah, whoah!” Dad puts up his hands up, laughing. “You’re gonna knock this old man right over.”

I roll my eyes. My dad is in great shape, always has been. And despite his dark hair being about fifty percent gray now, he looks younger than his sixty years.

Dad shoves us all behind him and swings open the door open. Amber comes into view, holding a sleeping Nella, and my breath is suddenly stuck somewhere in my lungs. I just saw her last week, but knowing she’s right here, brings me a joy I can’t put into words.

“Amber, so good to see you, kiddo!” Dad says loudly, causing Nella to stir.

“Thank you for having me,” she says as Dad ushers her inside.

My sisters rush in to hug her, and I find myself once again wishing I hadn’t held back embracing her all these years. As a kid, I hated being touched. I’m still not a touchy guy. I could be with Amber, though .

“Oh, Amber, she’s a doll,” Felicity whispers, not wanting to wake the baby.

“She really is,” Farrah agrees.

“Thank you. I agree,” Amber says with a wink.

“Hey, you,” I finally say. I’m the only one in the room focusing on Amber and not Nella. No offense to Nella, but I could just look at her mom all damn day. It’s always been like that, my eyes navigating straight toward her like I’m a ship lost at sea and she’s dry land.

Mom scurries into the living room where we’re all still standing. Her apron is a mess, and her goggles are still on top of her head. “Amber!” Mom says, rushing in to give her a hug.

My family might be loud, brash, and a little dorky. But they treat people well, and I’m especially thankful they love Amber like family with all she’s been through this year.

“Wow, I’ve missed this house,” Amber says softly, then sighs. “It hasn’t changed a bit. And neither have the Remingtons.” She grins, eyeing my mom’s goggles and then my dad’s ugly Christmas sweater.

Dad chuckles. “It’s been too long, sweetheart. How’s your mom?”

Amber stills. I open my mouth to change the subject, my go-to for when a topic makes things uncomfortable. But Amber recovers, giving my dad a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes.

“I’m not sure. We actually don’t talk.” Amber glances down at her baby girl, and Dad’s eyebrows raise in understanding.

“I didn’t realize that. I’m sorry.” He clears his throat. “Well, we’re thrilled you’re both here.”

Mom nods in agreement, then ushers us into the kitchen where the Thanksgiving meal is ready and waiting, aside from the turkey that she’s about to trim with her electric knife. Everything is arranged on the countertop in a buffet-style. We’re not one of those fancy families who lay out a picture worthy spread in a formal dining room. We’re plastic tablecloths and buffets all the way in the Remington household.

Excited chatter fills the room as Mom cuts up the turkey and tosses the chunks into a big, foil pan. Dad watches with his arms crossed, always a little sour he doesn’t get to carve the turkey but knowing better than to interfere in his wife’s kitchen.

When Mom gives the all-clear, we usher through the kitchen, filling our plates with turkey, mom’s famous stuffing, green bean casserole, and all the Thanksgiving fixings. We take our seats in the formal dining room. Formal is a strong word since there’s a plastic tablecloth lining the dated table. It has a turkey-and-pumpkin print all over it. Also, we’re eating on paper plates. The nice, thick ones…but still paper.

Nella wakes up the moment Amber sits down to eat, but she’s quickly stolen by my oldest sister, who snuggles her happily while Amber eats.

“So, tell me what’s new with the Remingtons,” Amber says after swallowing a bite of stuffing.

“Well.” Felicity jumps in first, as usual. “You’ll get to meet my man today, Harvey. He should be here any minute.” She sighs dreamily, looking up at the ceiling. “He’s amazing.”

Amber waggles her eyebrows. “Oooh, Felicity’s in looooove,” she teases.

Felicity blushes, but the grin on her face tells me she doesn’t care who knows how smitten she is.

Amber turns to Farrah with a smile. “And where’s that hubby of yours?”

Farrah’s face falls for a split second before she plasters on a smile. “Connor had to work today. His company is closing on a really big deal. ”

Amber nods, but I don’t miss the worried glance she shoots me. I notice my parents give each other a weird look, silently communicating, the same way me and Amber just did. Before anyone else can speak, the doorbell rings.

Felicity jumps up from her chair so fast, it almost tumbles backward. “That must be Harvey!”

She rushes out of the room to greet him, and Farrah’s comment is all but forgotten…by everyone but me.

Felicity returns, holding the hand of a young man with blond hair. He looks like the human version of an Australian Shepherd, with a happy-go-lucky grin, bright blue eyes, and his tongue half hanging out as he makes cow eyes at my little sister. My lips tug upward in a smile. How could they not? These two look so happy to be in each other’s orbit, you can almost feel it in your soul.

“Everyone,” Felicity says with a cheesy grin, “this is Harvey.” She looks up at him again and his smile is just as big as hers.

“Great to see you again, Harv,” Dad says with a smile, having already met Harvey several times, I’m sure. Mom gets up and hugs them both.

Harvey comes around to shake my hand, and I stand, towering over him. I’m not trying to be intimidating, it’s just that he’s barely taller than my little sister. But if a short king makes her happy, who am I to judge?

“Nice to meet you,” I say, shaking his hand firmly.

I’m pleasantly surprised that his handshake is firm and confident. Not insecure about being smaller than me. You’d be surprised how skittish men get if you tower over them.

Harvey and Felicity walk over to their seats at the table, glancing awkwardly at each other and giggling instead of taking their seats.

They whisper to each other, and finally, Harvey clears his throat. “Before we sit, we actually have an announcement.”

Felicity bounces a little, showing her excitement. “We’re getting married!” She blurts, then the room goes into chaos mode. Everyone’s standing, ushering toward the couple for hugs and congratulations, asking to look at the large diamond we all hadn’t noticed until now. So, she must’ve been hiding it in her pocket. My parents and Farrah, seem genuinely excited, so Harvey must be a pretty good guy. Unlike Connor. None of us were excited when Farrah and Connor announced their engagement. Sure, we put on a happy face for Farrah. But I think we all had a bad feeling about him.

Once everyone sits back down, the questions roll in: How did he propose? When’s the wedding? How long will you wait to have children?

Yes, my mother really asked that. At least it’s not just my life she meddles in.

When the room finally calms down again and everyone starts eating again, I feel my spine relax. I don’t always realize I’m uncomfortable, not in the moment. But when everyone talks at once, it puts me on edge.

Amber studies me from her seat beside me. She lays a hand firmly on my shoulder, probably sensing my stress somehow. Nella is looking at me too, with those wide green eyes that match her mother’s. I smile at her, my hand coming up and pressing lightly on her nose. Her face morphs into a drooly grin, and damn if it doesn’t just melt my heart right inside my chest. How does she do that?

When I turn away from the adorable baby to focus on my plate of food, I meet my mother’s sympathetic gaze. Her eyes move from me to Felicity and Harvey and then back again. My father follows suite. They’re looking at me like I just told them I’m dying.

Since when does being single earn so much sympathy?