Page 20 of Over and Above (Mount Hope #4)

Chapter Twenty

Eric

Thanksgiving dawned cold and clear and far too early. I’d been up late finishing pies with Magnus’s help. We’d had a wonderful, brandy-fueled night topped with sneaky shower fun, but now I had a house full of people and meal prep was in full swing. No time for thinking about brandy-laced kisses, roving hands, or anything other than getting all the varied dishes done on time.

But even without the possibility of stolen kisses, Magnus and I worked together all morning in orchestrated perfection, as easy as if we’d done this for years. Which would be unsettling, but I’d made a conscious decision to relax and enjoy. No point in adding the stress of deep thinking to our day.

“I need?—”

“Salt? Right here.”

“Where’s the?—”

“Oven mitts? Here’s one.”

“Did you?—”

“Mac-n-cheese is already in the oven.”

“Did you get a chance to?—”

“Salad is prepped.”

As we continued finishing each other’s sentences and anticipating what the other needed, Maren wandered up from the basement carrying a small pan of gingerbread she’d had a last-minute craving for. “Where are we putting?—”

“The dessert table is in the breakfast nook.” Looking up mid-whisk of a vinegarette, Magnus gestured to the table laden with pies and other goodies before I could.

“You guys are like a surgical team.” Maren gave an approving whistle as she added the gingerbread to the table.

“Yeah, can it be like this every year?” Diesel hugged her from behind.

“I agree. Everything is on schedule.” Wren was stationed at the kitchen island, checking things off an impressive spreadsheet.

My chest pinched. I wanted that too, wanted every holiday to be this easy and fun, but at the same time, my neck tensed because it wasn’t supposed to be this way. Someone important was missing, and not dwelling on that felt disloyal. Yet I only had to look around the kitchen at the smiling faces to know this had been the right call. Magnus and I made an excellent team.

But every year? Probably not. The kids would scatter, Magnus would get a new house, and the chances of us all coming together regularly would inevitably lessen. The tightness in my chest worsened, want giving way to worry. Luckily, before any of the others could notice the shift in my mood, the doorbell sounded.

“Someone get the door!” John shouted as he clattered down the steps. Maren and Diesel beat him to the door as the first of the guests arrived.

“Oh my gosh, it’s Firefighter Suzy!” Maren greeted a long-term first responder friend and her girlfriend, who were quickly followed by Jonas and Declan. Despite my orders that we were handling the food, everyone had things to add, so they all trooped into the kitchen.

“Jonas! Tell me how the new job is going?” Suzy asked as she busied herself making room for a spectacular pecan pie on the dessert table.

While Suzy and Jonas played catch up, Declan admired Maren’s cute prairie-style maternity dress. “Look at you! That baby must be bigger than the turkey.”

“Actually, no.” Maren pursed her lips. “I keep measuring slightly small for dates.”

“You’re a small person.” Declan gave her a fast hug. “I’m sure it’s within the realm of normal.”

“That’s what Marissa, my midwife, keeps saying.” Maren slumped against Diesel, who was hovering nearby as always. “But she wants me to have extra monitoring, like another ultrasound, just to be cautious. I hate going over to the hospital.”

“I’m going with you.” Diesel spoke up first, but I was a close second.

“And if he can’t go, I’ll go.” This was the first I was hearing of any concern, and I tried to keep my tone positive. My anti-home birth attitude was undoubtedly playing a role in Maren confiding in me less, and I resolved to try to be even more supportive despite my reservations. “And Declan’s right—I’ve seen yours and Rowan’s birth certificates. You were each barely six pounds. Normal is a pretty big range.”

“Thanks, Dad.” To my shock, Maren crossed to the stove where I was monitoring potatoes and hugged me.

“We’ve all got your back, Maren.” Declan nodded, and an approving murmur swept through the kitchen. A few moments later, the room grew even more crowded with the arrival of Tony, Caleb, Caleb’s younger brother Scotty, who was visiting from college, and Caleb’s mother. I shooed folks toward the living room, where new baby talk continued.

“Are you doing a gender reveal? Baby shower?” Caleb perched next to Maren on the couch. “Tell me we get to give you presents.”

“Gender reveals are tacky.” Maren rolled her eyes before patting her belly.

“We’d rather be surprised,” Diesel added from her other side, dropping an arm around Maren’s shoulders. “But I’m all about the baby presents.”

Maren gave a long-suffering sigh, undoubtedly hating being the center of attention. “I suppose we can do a shower?—”

“Excellent.” Caleb leaned forward. “Gender-neutral shower? Any themes? Colors?”

“Are you moonlighting as a party planner now?” I teased Caleb while shooting Maren a supportive smile. No way was she getting out of the shower idea, but I’d try to ensure my fellow introvert didn’t get overwhelmed.

“Yep. Maren said we’re all honorary uncles, right? I take my role seriously.” Laughing, Caleb gestured at Scotty, who was sitting near John on the floor. “Especially since it may be years, if ever, before Scotty gives me niblings.”

“Never say never,” Scotty said good-naturedly, but next to him, John looked like a thundercloud had descended over the living room.

“Anyone need a drink refill?” John hauled himself off the floor. “I’ll go fetch the cider and some cups.”

“I’ll help.” Scotty hurried after him, and whatever was going on there was possibly more interesting than baby shower talk, but I knew better than to go after John myself.

“Well, that wasn’t awkward.” Waving a hand, Maren gave a crooked grin. “How about January? After Christmas but before my due date.”

“We can host the shower here,” I offered, desperate to be of use in some way.

“I’m still decorating.” Caleb wagged a finger in my direction. “And we’ll need games.”

“You’d better be ready for help with planning.” A familiar voice sounded from the front entryway and excited noises swept through the room as everyone whirled to greet our latest arrival.

“Rowan!” Maren’s eyes were suspiciously damp, and I expected mine were no better. “Oh my gosh, you came!”

“So, what brings the big famous actor home for Thanksgiving?” Diesel teased.

“Hey, even big famous actors need to eat.”

There were hugs all around, and I made sure to claim one before Rowan settled next to Maren on the couch. Caleb moved to the arm of my recliner where Tony sat. The house was full to the brim, and I could not have been happier. I couldn’t remember the latest time I’d grinned this widely or laughed this much. I caught Magnus’s gaze as he strode in from the kitchen, and he gave a subtle smile that seemed meant only for me as he came to stand next to me.

“Turkey is done and resting,” he reported. “You want to help me arrange the buffet according to Wren’s diagram?”

“I’d love to.” I meant it, savoring the few moments to work together without the crowd of company. Didn’t risk a kiss or even a touch, but our joint efforts to arrange the food were joyful, with more than a few of those private looks. Can it be like this every year? The question echoed yet again in my head.

The meal itself was delightful chaos, people eating in the living room, dining room, kitchen, and in the case of Wren, perched on the staircase, surveying the scene below. There was too much food, of course, but conversation and merriment continued to flow even as people started to depart after dessert.

“So, what’s the deal with Diesel’s dad?” Rowan sidled up next to me at the dessert table as I contemplated a piece of the brandy apple pie. However, as soon as Rowan asked the question, my desire to be reminded of the night before evaporated.

“What do you mean?” I bristled. What had he noticed? Damage control. Stay neutral. I schooled my expression. Rowan might be the actor, but I had more practice. “I told you, he’s renting the carriage house after his home was lost to a fire.”

“I meant is he single?” Rowan sighed like I was the densest person on earth. “He didn’t bring a date.”

“Rowan.” I put on my sternest tone. “He’s over forty. You are nineteen. God help us.”

“Maybe I just wanted to hear the lecture.” Rowan lightly duffed my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I haven’t found any silver fox sugar daddies in Hollywood either.”

“Thank God for small miracles.” I groaned, relief and irritation mingling, along with another emotion I couldn’t name brewing low in my guy. A date. Someday, our fling would run its course, and Diesel would bring a date to some future baby shower or family event, and I would?—

Nothing. I would do nothing because we weren’t even officially dating, and getting jealous over some future event that had yet to happen was beyond silly. Dramatic. And I wasn’t our reigning diva.

Oblivious to my distress, Rowan gave an artistic sigh. “Anyhoo, a bunch of drama club peeps heard I’m in town, so I’m gonna head out.”

“And leave the cleanup?” Maren clomped into the kitchen, gait taking on that late pregnancy heaviness even with two months to go. “Typical.”

“You aren’t cleaning up.” I placed my hands on her slim shoulders to turn her back toward the living room. “You are going to go sit down and choose a movie.”

“If I sit down, I’ll fall asleep.” She yawned.

“Then nap.” Magnus arrived in the kitchen in time to order Maren to the basement, pointing at the door. “We’ve got this.”

At first, we had nominal help from Wren and Diesel. John left to go somewhere with Scotty, and the other guests had departed earlier, leaving mountains of leftovers to contend with. Wren, naturally, got sidetracked researching proper storage temperatures, and they escaped upstairs in short order. Then Diesel left to check on Maren, leaving me alone with Magnus.

Not that I was complaining. I let out a happy exhale. I loved having the house full, but I loved this quiet togetherness even more.

“How does it always come down to you and me and a pair of sponges?” I joked, happiness soaking my tone.

“I don’t know, but when you put it like that, I suddenly start craving a shower.” Magnus winked at me.

“Me too.” I cocked my head. The muffled sound of a TV filtered up from the basement. Upstairs, Wren appeared to be engaged in a highly scientific argument on the phone or computer chat. Sighing, I bumped shoulders with Magnus. “No showers anytime soon.”

“Hard cider and a movie?” Magnus suggested smoothly, already going to the fridge.

“It’s officially the holiday season.” I accepted a bottle from him, relieved that he also wasn’t ready to call it a night. “Something silly and seasonal?”

“Coming right up.” He grinned at me, and I was right back to wondering if it could be like this every year.