CHAPTER 28
Hannah
“Hannah,” my mom says from the stove where she’s whisking the gravy. “Can you come grab the rolls out of the oven?”
“Sure,” I reply. I leave my task of slicing the canned cranberry sauce, which is my favorite part of Thanksgiving, to do as she asked.
My mom moves to the side far enough I can open the oven door, but she still stirs the gravy so it doesn’t clump. I use a towel to grab the pan of fresh rolls that are perfectly browned on top, placing it on the counter. After which, I transfer the hot rolls to a basket Mom had placed there with a decorative cloth napkin lining it.
“Mommy,” Hope gasps as she rushes into the kitchen, holding up a quarter in her hand. “Look what Uncle Toby just pulled out of my ear. And I didn’t even feel it.”
“Ask him to look for more,” I tell her with a laugh. “I’ve got to get your college fund started.”
“Okay,” she chirps and spins on her foot, running back into the living room.
“God, I love that kid.” My mom chuckles.
“How could you not?” I ask with a grin.
I return to the cranberry sauce, and my mom carefully pours the gravy into a tureen.
“You know,” she says thoughtfully, placing the empty pot back on the stove. She wipes her hands and turns to face me, “I really think moving back home is the best thing, baby.”
Frank picked Hope and me up from the airport last night and brought us to Mom’s house. She was waiting up for me. After I put a very sleepy Hope into the spare bedroom we’d share, we stayed up for about an hour talking. She made us tea and I poured my broken heart out to her, as well as my plan to move forward.
“Do you think Nelson will let you take Hope out of Nevada?” she asks worriedly.
“I don’t know,” I reply with equal worry. It’s the only thing now that could screw up my plans. “He’s not very invested in her emotionally. I’ve found out a lot of stuff since she came back to live with me, and he essentially ignored her or pawned her off on his flavor-of-the-month girlfriend. I can’t imagine he’d put up much of a fight.”
“What if you offered him financial incentive?” my mom asks slyly.
“Like what?”
“Waive child support,” she suggests. “You could easily make that up by you and Hope living here with me rent free while you go to school.”
“That’s a thought,” I muse as I finish the cranberry sauce. “But how about we put this out of our minds and eat?”
The gravy, rolls, and cranberry sauce were the last items to prepare. All the other food is already on the dining room table.
“Frank, Toby, Hope,” my mom hollers as she takes her apron off. “Get in the dining room. We’re ready to eat.”
I hear some scuffling and something crashes, which tells me Toby and Frank are trying to beat each other through the door. Hope giggles, and my mom and I share a smile.
It’s really, really good to be home.
Mom grabs the basket of rolls and the tureen of gravy, while I collect the plate of cranberry sauce. When we walk into the dining room, Toby and Hope are sitting on one side and Frank on the other. Frank helps clear some room for the rest of the food.
I take a seat next to Frank, and Mom sits at the end to my immediate right. She smiles at me, then looks around at her family collected together. It’s been almost two years since I’ve been home, when Nelson, Hope, and I last came for Christmas. She’s just as happy now as she was then to have her brood all under one roof.
Nelson, of course, seemed to hate every minute of it. He’d kept his face in his phone most of the time.
Spreading her arms, she holds a hand out to me and the other to Hope, who sits directly across from me. The circle is complete when I take Frank’s hand, he takes Toby’s, and Toby finishes it off by taking Hope’s.
My mom bows her head and prays, “Dear Lord… thank you for the bounty you put before us and for keeping me from burning the gravy.”
When Toby snorts, I open one eye and smirk across the table at him.
A glance at my mom shows an amused smile on her face as she continues. “But mostly, thank you for bringing Hannah and Hope home, so I have all my youngins with me. You’ve made this woman mighty happy, and I’ll put extra money in the church basket on Sunday. Amen.”
“Amen,” we all chorus and break apart, all of us reaching for the nearest bowl in front of us. I scoop out some green bean casserole while Frank takes three slices of the freshly carved turkey. Toby puts a glob of gooey mac and cheese on Hope’s plate, then a bigger one on his own.
Just as I’m reaching for the turkey, there’s a knock on the door.
“I’ll get it,” Toby says as he pushes out of his chair, licking a piece of cheese off his thumb.
“Hope,” I say as I stab a piece of turkey for her. “Hold your plate out for me.”
She does, and I deposit the meat as I ask, “Want some green bean casserole?”
My daughter wrinkles her nose with a grimace. She hates almost all vegetables.
“Corn?” I ask.
She hesitates and nods. I give her a small spoonful because I know she won’t eat all of it.
Just as I’m getting ready to put some corn on my plate, Toby walks into the dining room with someone following him.
He steps to the side and there’s Asher Knight, staring right at me.
“What are you doing here?” I gasp, and the table goes silent. All eyes turn to Asher.
Not answering me directly, he moves to my mother, sticking his hand out. “Sorry for the intrusion. I’m Asher Knight, and I’m a friend of Hannah’s. You must be her mother, Carol.”
“Pleased to meet you,” my mom says politely, but there’s no mistaking the coolness in her tone. While I would never in a million years let her know how our relationship started, I didn’t spare her any details on how we broke up. “Would you like to join us?”
“Um… no, but thank you,” Asher says politely, and then moves around the table with his eyes on Frank. He sticks his hand out and Frank takes it, looking utterly confused as they shake. “You must be Frank. Hannah’s told me a lot about you.”
“Good to meet you,” my brother replies before turning questioning eyes to me.
I shrug as I stare at Asher. His gaze comes to mine, and I’m shocked when he says, “I need to talk to Hope for a minute. You can be there, too, of course.”
My head snaps Hope’s way. She’s studying Asher with narrowed eyes. He gives her his attention and says with a smile, “Hey, kiddo. Can we talk?”
Hope looks to me. I don’t know what type of game he’s playing, but I intend to figure it out. I stand up from my chair. “Let’s go outside, because this is getting awkward.”
“Or would you rather me and Toby escort him out for you?” Frank says ominously, now having figured out there’s something bad between us.
“I got it,” I tell my brother with a pat to his shoulder. I’m surprised he doesn’t crack his knuckles while he glares at Asher.
Asher, on the other hand, looks confidently back at my brother. He’s not intimidated in the least.
I walk around the table, going the opposite way around so I don’t have to brush past Asher. I’m afraid what might happen if we make contact. I can already feel the thickness of the air around us.
When I hold my hand out to Hope, she takes it and follows me out of the dining room, into the foyer, and out the front door. It’s a relatively mild day for a late November in the south, but still brisk enough we need to wear long sleeves. I’m wearing a flannel shirt and jeans. Hope’s got on a fuzzy pink sweater and pink corduroys. If asked, she’d say in an exaggerated southern voice ala Steel Magnolias, “Pink is my signature color.”
I turn around and find Asher right behind us, pulling the front door behind him. He looks at me, to Hope, and then back to me again. He tips his head in Hope’s direction and asks me, “Do you mind?”
Do I mind you talking to my daughter before you say a word to me? I am intrigued enough not to.
“Sure,” I say magnanimously.
Asher smiles at Hope, who is staring at him with wide eyes. He squats down in front of my daughter to get eye level with her, and I try not to notice how well his muscular legs fill out the denim he’s wearing. No matter how mad or upset I am with him, I’ll always be ridiculously attracted to his ass.
Asher gives a little cough to clear his throat, and then just lays it on the line to my daughter. “Hope… I hurt your mommy pretty bad. Honestly, I was a jerk to her, and there’s no excuse for it. I’m here to apologize to her and ask her to give me another chance, but first I need to ask you if that’s okay with you. Because without your approval, I know I’ll never stand a chance with her because you’re the most important thing in her life.”
I have no clue if those words have any effect on my kid, but damn if they don’t hit me deep and true, right in the center of my chest.
I wait anxiously as I watch Hope, because if she says “no,” then it’s absolutely over. No matter if I love this man or not, Hope has to accept him.
Of course, I’m not sure she really understands anything. She had asked me one day last week if we were still going to Disneyland with Asher. If she’d noticed I’d been in a funk over him, she never said. She’s five years old and focused on Mickey Mouse.
I apologized and told her it wasn’t going to happen.
And I couldn’t exactly tell her. All I could say is, “I don’t know, honey. But I’m not seeing him anymore.”
Hope glances up at me as if seeking permission to even give Asher the time of day. I don’t give her any encouragement, just a soft smile that I hope conveys she should do what’s in her heart.
She turns to Asher, her voice earnest and deliberate. “I want my Mommy to be happy.”
I’m amazed by my kid’s savvy understanding of something that should be beyond her grasp. She doesn’t answer him directly. Doesn’t say she’s giving him another chance, but rather telling him the standard he must meet to gain her approval.
And then amazingly, she puts the ball in his court. “I’m hungry and going to go eat now.”
Asher is speechless. He just watches her walk inside, an awed expression on his face. When the door closes, he stands up.
I take a few steps back to lean against the post that connects the porch railing. Pushing my hands down into my pockets, I stare at him and wait.
He throws a thumb toward the door where Hope just disappeared. “Your kid is pretty amazing.”
“I know,” I say with a smug smile. She’s the best.
Asher stares out across the field that’s barren now but usually filled with tobacco in the summers. My mom’s house is in the “country” surrounded by farmland on three sides and forest on the other.
He then moves to the post opposite of me and leans back against it. He mimics me by shoving his hands down into his pockets.
This tells me several things. First, he’s being cautious with me because the Asher I know would just demand I take him back and would probably kiss me to put me under his thrall. That also shows respect for me, since he’s putting distance between us so I can think for myself.
“Are you really thinking of moving back here and going to school?” he asks.
I blink at him in surprise, somewhat impressed and offended at the same time. “How do you know that?”
“Kyla Wroth saw the pamphlet and application on your printer. I didn’t know you were interested in college.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Asher. We haven’t really spent a lot of quality time talking.”
Fucking definitely. The man knows my body better than I do.
My mind, my ambitions… not so much.
“I figured out why you want to leave. You have no security in Vegas.” His expression is apologetic. “I took that away from you, I realize that. You’ve probably been wondering when the rug might get pulled out from under you, working for my company and me just cutting things off. Wondering every night if you’d still have that job the next morning. I get it.”
Okay… maybe he knows me a little better than I give him credit for.
“But you’re also running away from me and a broken heart,” he says, his voice now gritty with determination. “I’m here to fix that if you let me.”