Page 98 of Movers and Fakers

She shakes her head.

“No, I-I want to do this today. The longer I put things off, the more I’ll ruminate on it.”

“You’re right.” I tug her gently toward me, folding her within my arms. “And I’ll be by your side. I’m in your corner.”

“Look who’s here, my two favorite people!” Andrea calls out as she approaches with a wide smile. “I thought I heard the door open.”

I release Aurora to give Andrea a hug. She pulls away and pats me on the cheek.

“I’m glad you’re here, Hayes. I made three different pies, just for you.”

My eyes widen. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“Of course I did!” She swats my chest with the dish towel that was hanging over her shoulder. “This is your first real Thanksgiving.”

“Mom, you can’t say things like that,” Aurora sighs. “He’s had Thanksgivings, they’ve just been catered.”

Andrea’s nose wrinkles.

“That’s not a true Thanksgiving,” she says firmly. “Now you two come in here with the rest of the family. You can cuddle just as well in the living room as by the front door.”

Aurora’s face flames. I chuckle and grab her hand to pull her in the direction of the dining room.

Her brother, Eric, frowns as we pass through the kitchen, and it’s the most I’ve ever seen him look like Aurora. He’s standing near the kitchen island that’s covered in food with his arms crossed.

“If they’re your favorites, then who am I?” he asks his mom.

Andrea waves her hands.

“You’re all my favorites!” she exclaims before going to check on something in the oven.

“I don’t think she understands the definition of favorite,” Aurora murmurs dryly.

Eric smirks. “You know she’s got her own definitions.”

We all chuckle quietly. Aurora’s dad enters and winks at us before saying, “I thought I was your favorite, honey?”

Andrea huffs like we’re the most exasperating bunch of humans she’s ever encountered.

“You’re my husband—of course you’re my favorite. It’s a different kind of favorite.”

Eric raises his brows as if to say “See?” and we all start laughing again. I look around at all the smiling faces and something within me settles, like a leaf floating to the ground. Though I love my family, it’s not hard to point out the differences between the Rosewoods and the Driscolls. There’s a warmth here that envelops you like a bear hug. I think for the past few years I’ve really needed a hug, and the Driscolls have wrapped me up in one.

Aurora glances at me, curiosity in her gaze.

“Why are you so quiet, Prince Charming?”

I smile and kiss her temple.

“Just thinking of how much I love you and your family.”

Her tiny smirk grows into a beautiful grin that sends my heart skipping.

“I love you so much.”

—

Aurora Driscoll