“You’re going to have to talk to mom at some point.” Alex grabbed one of the apples David and I had picked at my favorite pick-your-own orchard that weekend. Biting into it, he made a face and turned to spit it into the sink. “Ugh, what the fuck kind of apple is this?” He glared down at the offending apple.

“It’s an American heirloom variety called Esopus Spitzenburg, and it’s not for you to eat.” I tugged it out of his hand and reached for one of my knives that were hung on the wall behind him. Cutting the apple in half, I tossed the part he’d taken a bite out of into the garbage and set the other half aside for later. “I’m making cider.”

“With that thing?” The incredulous look on his face was pure comedy gold.

“You won’t be saying that at Christmas when everyone else is loving their homemade gifts.” I washed the knife and set it in my drying rack.

He leaned close and studied me like he would the evidence at a crime scene. “Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?”

“Now that I’m working with Cass, I have a lot more free time than I did before,” I answered, dropping down into one of my kitchen chairs. “I need hobbies.”

Alex settled his big, bulky body into the seat across from me. “And your first thought was to start making booze?”

I shrugged. “David and I went apple picking last weekend, which led to cider tasting. Next thing I knew we were ordering a fruit crusher, fermentation buckets, rubber tubing, yeast, and everything else you need to make your own cider.” I looked around my tiny kitchen, wondering how big of a mess I was going to make once I actually got started. Apprehension caused my shoulders to tighten. “It sounded so easy at first, but I think I might be in over my head.”

“Why don’t you just buy cider from someone else like a normal person?”

“Hobbies, remember?”

Alex laughed. “I take it the job is going well then?”

“Yeah, I was worried at first because I didn’t know what I was doing, but it turns out all I have to do is make Theo sound smart.”

“Good luck with that,” Alex snorted.

I debated whether to say anything about what I’d observed these past two weeks, but then figured with as close as Alex and Theo were, he might be able to help me navigate the situation. “It’s  kind of weird working with Cass though.”

“How so?” he asked, resting his tatted forearms on the table.

“She’s a really great boss. Supportive, but able to give constructive criticism. She’s totally different at work than she is outside the office, so it’s been interesting to see that side of her. But she’s also completely in love with Theo, and our conversations can get … awkward.”

It felt disloyal to say anything more. Like the fact that she started every conversation by asking after my brother. Sure, he was the CEO of the company where we all worked, but you didn’t typically ask how your boss had spent his weekend unless you were either a creeper or hopelessly in love with him.

Alex blew out a breath. “Poor fuck. I don’t envy him.”

I reached across the table and smacked his arm. “Hey! Theo would be lucky to land someone as awesome as Cass.” I didn’t feel disloyal to our oldest brother by stating as much. Cass was amazing. Theo was pretty awesome too, which was why I thought they’d make a great couple.

Alex rubbed the spot where my palm had connected. “I didn’t mean it like that. All I’m saying is Theo’s in love with her too. But as long as he doesn’t know for sure that she feels the same way, he can pretend it’s this stupid, unrequited crush. The moment he finds out that she’s as far gone on him as he is her is the moment when he has to accept that there’s nothing he can do about it. Not unless one of them quits their jobs. And we both know that’s not going to happen. So back to my original statement: he’s a poor fuck any way you slice it.”

“Yeah, he’s fucked,” I agreed sadly.

My poor brother. He’d finally landed the job he’d wanted his entire life, only for it to be the thing that forever closed the door to him having the woman he’d wanted his whole adult life.

Alex shook his head and smirked. “I’m telling you; that’s why my way’s better.”

“Oh?” I asked with a skeptical raise of my eyebrow. “Would this be the love ‘em and leave ‘em method of relationships you’re so fond of?”

“Don’t use that word with me.” He pretended to shiver with revulsion.

“You’re terrible,” I laughed, choosing not to give him a hard time like I could have.

Alex wanted everyone to think he was this hard-nosed badass, but underneath that gruff exterior he was a big old softie. Someday, some woman was going to make him fall to his knees and worship the ground she walked on. Personally, I couldn’t wait to watch it happen.

“You’re only saying that because you’re all domestic and shit now.” His gaze took in my overflowing kitchen.

In addition to all of the cider-making supplies, my counters were also cluttered with small appliances, foodstuffs, and other random objects that David had brought over from his kitchen. Merging our belongings these past couple of weeks wasn’t going quite as smoothly as we’d anticipated. It turned out he was appalled by my Keurig, while I didn’t understand why anyone needed an espresso maker that had more functionality than my laptop. For all the times I’d eaten breakfast at his place, I’d failed to notice just how passionate he was about coffee. For his part, he’d missed how many decorative pillows I owned.

“I take it from the look on your face, you’re reconsidering a life of domestic bliss with our step-brother.”

“Stop calling him that!” I leaned over the table to smack him again, but Alex was too quick for me. Before I’d even come close, he’d darted out of his chair and jumped to the other side of the tiny room, laughing the entire time.

“You know I just like messing with you. It’s too easy.”

“Yeah, well, please don’t. If you trip up and say something in front of mom, it’ll only fuel her fire.”

He leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed over his barrel of a chest. “It can’t be as bad as all that.”

I snorted. “No, it’s worse. She called us an abomination.”

Alex eyed me with skepticism. “You’re exaggerating.” When I raised my eyebrow, he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Right?”

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. Scrolling to the last set of text messages I’d received from her—two days after she and Richard had walked in on David and me in flagrante delicto—I passed the phone to Alex. I could tell the second he’d read the worst of it.

“Wow,” he said, looking up from the screen. “That’s … wow.”

It took a lot to render my brother speechless. The fact that our mother’s diatribe had managed to do so indicated just how bad the situation really was.

“What are you going to do?”

My eyes brimmed with unshed tears as I hefted both my shoulders toward my ears. “Stay away, I suppose.”

He stared at me for a beat, his jaw clenched with what I interpreted as frustration. “I could talk to her. If you want me to.” He passed my phone back to me, and I set it face down on the table.

I shook my head, pulling a deep breath into my lungs. “No, don’t bother. She’s made her feelings known. Either I give up David, or I’m no longer welcome at family functions.”

Alex growled with anger. “And what does he say?”

“David?”

“Yes, David.” Alex dropped his hands to his side, his fists clenched tight as he held back his mounting anger over the situation.

“He hasn’t said anything, because I haven’t told him about her latest ultimatum.”

“What?” Alex barked, pushing off the counter and stalking over to me. Dropping down onto his haunches, he gripped my biceps. “He needs to fix this, Vick.”

That was Alex for you. If there was a problem, it was the guy’s job to solve it. Him and Vanilla Ice.

He’d spent so much of his life running off to rescue one damsel in distress or another that it never even occurred to him that I might want to handle this on my own.

“It’s not David’s problem,” I explained calmly. “She’s my mother, and I’ll deal with the situation.”

Alex pushed to his feet and began pacing the kitchen. It only took three strides before he needed to turn back around. “And what? In the meantime, we just pretend like nothing’s the matter?” He stopped and spun on his heel to face me. “Thanksgiving is next week, for fuck’s sake. You have to be there.”

Um, what?

“Uh, what?”

Alex’s face drained of color. “Oh shit.”

This time, I was the one launching out of my seat. I marched toward my brother and pressed a pointed finger into his chest. “Don’t you ‘oh shit’ me Alexander Graham Witherspoon. What’s that supposed to mean?”

He took a step back and looked away, gripping the back of his neck. “I thought you knew.”

“Clearly, I don’t, so start talking.” I planted my palms on my hips, my toe beating a rhythm on the black and white checked tiles.

“Mom’s doing Thanksgiving at her and Richard’s place. I just assumed you’d be there too.”

“Why would you assume that?” I asked, my blood pressure spiking.

For as long as I could remember, Thanksgiving had been my holiday. For ten years now—once our mom began spending the holiday on a cruise ship with whatever man she was married to at the time—I’d hosted Thanksgiving, inviting my brothers and whatever ragtag group of friends we could cobble together. Thanksgiving was quite possibly my favorite days of the year, and I would be damned if our mother was going to take that away from me too. All because she wanted to pretend like we were one big happy family.

Alex scratched his beard. “She kept going on and on about how great it was going to be to have everyone together for our first family Thanksgiving. She was so happy that I just assumed …”

“You assumed what?”

“You know I don’t know how these things work.” He backed up, holding his hands up in the universal sign of surrender.

“Bullshit. You know exactly how this works. She runs off on one her cruises and I make sure everyone has a magical fucking Thanksgiving. It’s been that way for ten goddamned years!”

“I know!” he hollered back. “But she’s our mom, and she said she was hosting. Why would I question her?”

I tossed my hands in the air and let out a disgusted snort. Marching out of the kitchen and into my living room, I flopped down onto the couch. Seconds away from giving in to a crying jag to end all crying jags, I threw my arm over my eyes and counted to ten. It’s wasn’t Alex’s fault that our mother was trying to usurp my holiday.

The couch cushions dipped next to me, and Alex pulled my arm away from my face. “If it’ll make you feel better, I won’t go to their place. I’ll come over here instead, just like I’ve always done.”

I peered at my brother out of the corner of my eye. “You’d really do that?”

He nodded. “Sure. I’ll tell her I’m on call or something.”

I tugged my arm back and sat up straight.

“What?” he asked, his face a mask of confusion.

“I don’t want you to lie to her. I want you to tell her outright that you’re spending the holiday with me. Like you’ve always done.” I stared at Alex, daring him to disagree.

He blinked and looked away. “Goddamnit, Vicky. Fine. I’ll tell Mom I’m not going to Thanksgiving at her house because you’re my favorite sister and this is your holiday.”

I pushed to my feet and held out my hand. He took it, and I hefted him up. Or at least I pretended to. Honestly, he did most of the work. “Thank you big bro,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. “I appreciate your support.”

Hesitantly, he wrapped his tree trunk arms around me too, letting out a relieved sigh as he did. “I just hope this feud doesn’t extend into Christmas.”

I stepped back, lifting my chin. “It’ll last as long as it needs to. I’m with David, and she is going to have to accept it.”

He stared down at me and scratched his cheek. “And if she won’t?”

“Then enjoy Christmas without me.”