Heather shook her head to rid herself of the negative energy invading her Zen as she carefully selected from the different buckets, putting together a fully formed arrangement that she admired as she twirled it around for effect. It was Thanksgiving, and she was going to be with a family. So what if it wasn’t hers? It sure as hell beat tofurkey for one.
A dorky smile on her face, Heather crept up behind Josh and bonked him on the head with the bouquet she’d assembled, effectively severing whatever he’d had going on with the jailbait.
“Come on, moron. Let’s go.”
• • •
“Oh, Heather, honey. They’re beautiful!” Sue gushed, holding out her arms and making grabby fingers for the flowers. An hour and change later Heather and Josh were standing in his family’s foyer in New Jersey, putting the artfully designed bouquet into Sue’s arms.
“How do you know I’m not the one that picked them out?” Josh grumbled as he handed them over.
“Yellow carnations, dear. You remember,” Sue said as she turned her cheek up so Josh could kiss it.
“It’s a wonder you still call me your son,” he said. Then he wrapped both arms around his mother, flowers and all. “Hi, Ma. Happy Thanksgiving.”
Heather’s heart melted just a little. Or a lot. A man who was good to his mother. Was there any better kind?
“Hi, dear,” Sue said as she patted Josh’s cheek and gave him a smile.
Heather could have sworn Josh’s mom’s eyes were watering just a little, and she looked away, suddenly very aware that she was a stranger intruding on a family holiday.
But then Sue shifted her attention back to Heather, reaching out her free hand as she shifted the flowers to her other side. “Heather, honey, it’s so good to see you again. Josh was so excited you could join us, and trust me when I say we share his enthusiasm.”
“Yup. I wrote all about it in my diary,” Josh said sarcastically.
Sue rolled her eyes. “Josh, go help your father.”
“Help him what, find the remote?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell you. We’re deep-frying the turkey this year. You can guess whose idea that was.”
“So the diet’s going well, then?” Josh said.
“Shoo,” Sue said, waving her hand. “He’s out back. Your grandparents aren’t here yet, thank God. I’ll need a mimosa or five before that happens. How about it, Heather?” Sue turned to Heather and winked conspiratorially.
Heather nodded gratefully. “A mimosa would be great.”
“Josh, honey, make us a couple mimosas, would you? There’s stuff set up on the sideboard in the dining room.”
“I thought I was supposed to help with the turkey.”
“Champagne first, always,” Sue said, linking her arm in Heather’s as Josh rolled his eyes but dutifully headed toward what Heather supposed was the dining room.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Sue said, giving Heather’s arm a little squeeze.
“I really appreciate you inviting me.”
“Josh said you don’t have any family in the area?”
Heather shook her head. “My mom’s from Michigan, and she doesn’t love New York.”
Not that she’d ever been here to know.
“It took us a while to get used to it as well. Not that Jersey is quite Manhattan, but it’s an adjustment from Bozeman, Montana.”
“That’s where you’re from?” Heather asked in surprise.
She and Josh had never talked about where he was from, but somehow she’d assumed that he was local. He seemed so very at home in New York.
“How long have you lived here?” Heather asked, as she paused to peek at the numerous photos on the wall.
“We moved out here a few years ago,” Sue said, stopping with Heather as her eyes roved over the pictures. “To be closer to Josh.”
There was something in the older woman’s tone then. A sadness, and Heather glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and wondered why the sadness on Sue’s face matched her tone. This must be one tight-knit family, if the parents had missed their son enough to move to an entirely new state to be closer to him. She felt a sting of bitterness, thinking of her own mother, who couldn’t even be bothered to hop on a plane to come visit.