135
E P I L O G U E
VIVIAN
Thanksgiving wasn’t this big of a deal for me. Growing up, it was just another day. Sometimes I had an extra helping of pudding after dinner, but that was about it. There wasn’t a whole lot to be thankful for as a foster kid. But now, I have a million and one reason to be thankful.
Amelia was asleep in my arms. She was a deep sleeper, sucking quietly on her thumb while unaware of the rambunctious goings on at the Phillips house. Jesse was holding Adam, who -unlike his sister- rarely ever slept at all. My son was so alert and curious, always looking about with his big eyes to take in his surroundings. I figured that was something he got from his father.
I could see Jesse in the kitchen with Theo and Devin, baby Adam reaching up with his tiny hand to tug at his father’s beard. It wasn’t a mustache like I’d wanted. The beard was much better. It tickled when he kissed me, and it gave Adam something to play with.
Ava, Molly, and I were in the living room. The turkey was still in the oven, not quite done, so we had some time to kill. The TV was on, switched to some weird contest show featuring child geniuses.
“What kind of parent would let their children go on a show like this?” I wondered aloud. “Can’t kids just be kids?”
Molly shrugged. “I mean, the prize for first place is ten grand. Wouldn’t you want Amelia up there if she could win?”
I pressed my lips into a thin line. “No. Not unless she wanted to be up there. But even then, it feels icky putting your children out there for the world to see.”
Ava nodded. “I know what you mean. It feels sort of exploitive.”
“Yes, exactly!”
Amelia whimpered, stirring from her slumber. She sobbed, breaking out into choked-off cries. I patted her on the back and bounced her gently, hushing her. “It’s okay, sunshine. I’m here.”
“Do you think she needs a diaper change?” Molly asked.
“No, that sounds like an I’m hungry cry,” Ava said.
I retrieved Amelia’s milk bottle from the coffee table in front of me and brought it to her lips. She immediately took to it, eating hungrily. “You were right.”
“Huh,” Molly said. “I feel kind of left out. Maybe I need to find my silver fox and have a baby so I can join the club.”
Cory, who’d been playing with Cassie on the other side of the room, looked up. “What does silver fox mean?”
Molly made a strangled sound, something between a laugh and a choke. “Nothing, nothing,” she said dismissively.
“I don’t think you’re allowed to keep foxes as pets,” Cory continued.
Ava and I laughed. Molly’s face was bright red.
Luckily, Wally’s sudden arrival rescued her from Cory’s innocent remarks. He came in through the front door with heavy grocery bags hanging from both his arms. “Sorry that took so long,” he said. “It was nuts at the grocery store.”
“Of course it was,” I said. “Everybody’s probably out trying to do last-minute shopping.”From NôvelDrama.Org.
“I’ll say. I almost had to wrestle a little old lady for the last turnip they had.”
“Did you get it, though?” Molly asked, walking over quickly to help with the bags.
Wally fished the turnip in question out, holding it up like some sort of trophy. “I did. Almost lost an eye, but you
know. That’s what Thanksgiving’s all about.”
I frowned. “Grocery store fights?”
“No, the perfect ingredients for dinner.”
“I thought it was about being thankful,” Ava teased.
“Everybody go wash up,” Wally said. “I’ll have the rest of dinner ready in five.”
We gathered around the kitchen together. There were so many of us around the table, but I wasn’t going to complain. It was wonderful, my first Thanksgiving with the whole family. It was loud and chaotic and perfect.
Jesse sat next to me, checking on Amelia while kissing me on the temple. “How are my two favorite girls doing?”
“We’re doing good. Hungry, though.”
“I thought I heard her crying.”
“What were you boys talking about in the kitchen?”
“Oh, you know, talking shop. Boring stuff.”
“Firewall design isn’t boring,” Devin grumbled from his side of the table. “It’s way more interesting than talking about Adam’s weight gain. Right, Theo?”
Theo put his hands up in mock surrender. “I have no opinion.”
“Did you hear that, Adam?” Jesse asked our infant son. “Uncle Devin doesn’t think it’s impressive you’ve grown so much, no he doesn’t.”
Devin rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say it wasn’t impressive.
He’s a baby. Babies grow.”
“Do I have to eat the Brussels sprouts?” Cory complained. Ava gave him a gentle smile. “Yes, sweetie. You have to.
Do you want to grow up big and strong like your father?” “But Cassie doesn’t like Brussels sprouts, either.”
Theo huffed. “How about for each one you eat, I’ll give you a quarter?”
Ava frowned. “I don’t think we should pay them to eat their food, dear.”
“If you don’t take the offer, I will,” Molly said, leaning over to whisper in Cory’s ear.
“Deal!” he shouted, portioning out a small pile of greens onto his plate.
“Alright,” Wally declared from the oven. He retrieved the turkey from inside and expertly moved the bird onto a long serving platter. “Who’s hungry?”
An enthusiastic murmur of agreement washed over the room as Wally sat the plate down in the center of the table before taking his seat. We dug in without much fanfare, feasting to our heart’s content. Everything was delicious. The turkey was juicy. The stuffing was savory. The gravy was thick and salty.
Cory worked on his vegetables and earned himself a whole dollar before giving up. Molly helped herself to a second glass of red wine, listening intently to Devin talk about the coding project he was working on even though she didn’t know a thing about computers. Theo and Ava traded Cassie back and forth, taking turns eating. Wally told Cory all about what it was like in Paris and the endless number of art museums there.
Jesse and I sat together, knees touching beneath the table. Amelia and Adam were both awake now, but they weren’t fussy, too busy taking in all the sights and smells. Jesse raised his glass. “A toast,” he said. “To family.” “To family!” the room cheered.
And then, he murmured in my ear, “And to you, the love of my life.”
I grinned at him. “Right back at you,” I said with a wink.