I Hid My Perfect Score novel · Chapter 11 of 32

Chapter 11: Thanksgiving

Mom opened the front door on Thanksgiving morning with her arms already out.

She saw Emory behind me and dropped them.

"Oh," she said. "You brought someone."

"This is Emory. He's my crew lead."

"Ma'am." Emory held out a foil-covered pan. "Sourdough rolls. Our bunkmate made them. She said if you don't like them, lie."

Mom took the pan.

The house smelled like turkey and the cinnamon candle Mom lit every holiday.

Everything was exactly where I'd left it.

Except me.

The whole family was already there.

Both sides. Mom's two sisters, Dad's brother and his wife, four cousins, a grandmother, and somebody's new baby being passed around.

They'd all seen Paisley's hospital video.

I could tell the room went quiet when I came in.

Then Dad's brother saw Emory and stood up and shook his hand.

"You the guy from the dog video?"

"No, sir. That was her. I'm the guy who held her ankles."

My uncle laughed so hard he had to sit down.

After that, half the room was on Emory's side, which was not the same as being on mine, but it was a start.

Paisley came down the stairs in a cream sweater, with her hair curled.

She hugged me in front of everyone.

"I'm so glad you came," she said into my ear, loud enough for the room. "I forgive you."

"For what?"

She pulled back and smiled at the aunts.

Then she looked at Emory, and her smile changed.

"And you must be the fireman."

"Student," Emory said. "Mostly I wash trucks."

"I bet you're being modest."

"I'm really not."

Gavin was in the kitchen doorway with a beer he wasn't drinking.

He met my eyes and looked away, and then looked back on purpose.

That was new.

Dinner was at three.

Mom had the place cards done in calligraphy.

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