Marrying My Ex's Boss novel · Chapter 18 of 24

Chapter 18: The Night Before

On Thanksgiving, I ate Joyce's stuffing at four o'clock and called my mother at five.

"You sound like you've been running," she said.

"I'm standing in a kitchen."

"That's how I sound after a double shift. Are you eating?"

"Joyce made me three plates."

"Good." A cafeteria's worth of silence, then, "Marigold, tomorrow you're going to do the hard thing."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you only call me on holidays when you're about to."

I laughed, and then I had to put the phone down on the counter and breathe.

Colin had promised me I'd be out by Thanksgiving.

At nine o'clock that night, I drove to Fox Chapel with my own key.

The porch light was on, and there was a smell on the air I could not place, so I stood on the mat and breathed it in.

It was turkey.

I let myself in, and the house was warm, with every window shut.

In the kitchen, Truman stood at the soapstone counter in his shirtsleeves, carving.

The bird was golden brown all over, and it was whole, and nothing had gone off.

The recipe lay open on his phone beside the board, and he was reading it with his lips moving.

"You followed it," I said.

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