Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
“Myles and I were talking about Thanksgiving today,” Maeve said. “And we just weren’t sure what you might think of it.”
Howie turns to her. “What about it?”
She shrugs. “We were just talking about how nice it might be to actually make Thanksgiving dinner this year. You know, some of mom’s favorites. We thought it might be nice to kind of have her with us this year.”
Howie’s face clouds over and I can see the emotion percolating below the surface and his suspicion quickly fades. I hate to see him upset by the memory of his lost love, but God bless Maeve for being quicker on her feet than I am. She reaches across the table and lays her hand over her dad’s, and he puts his other hand on top of hers.
“I miss her too, Dad. And it’s not that I don’t like going out to dinner and all, but maybe it’s time we start a new tradition,” she says gently.
“By resurrecting old traditions?”
She nods. “Yeah. I know Mom wouldn’t want us to spend the rest of our lives mourning her. I know for a fact that she’d want us to celebrate and enjoy the day like she used to do.”
Howie’s eyes shimmered, wet with tears and I want to take the man into a firm embrace and tell him it’s okay. But the moment doesn’t seem quite right for it. This moment is for him and Maeve, so I let them be.
“I miss her,” he says, his voice quavering.
“I do too, Dad. Every single day,” she says. “But Mom loved life. She loved living. And she’d want us to live and love life the way she did. She’d want us to find joy again. Most of all, she’d want you to live and find joy in your life again. I think you know that.”
“It’s so hard. Life without her is hard.”
“I know it is. But what was it she always used to say?”
A faint smile traced his lips and a light I haven’t seen in his eyes since Gwenny died started to flicker. A small laugh drifted from his mouth.
“She used to say that life gives us hard parts to make the rest of it all that much sweeter,” he says quietly. “And that life is meant to be lived joyfully.”
“That’s right. That’s what she said,” Maeve says. “And I can’t think of a better way to honor her memory than by doing that… living joyfully. And that includes making one of her favorite holidays as joyful as we can make it.”
Howie stares at his daughter with an unmistakable light of pride in his face. It’s a feeling I’m slightly envious of, to be honest. I’ve always wanted to have a child I could look at with pride in my eyes. But that’s never seemed to be in the cards for me. I do love seeing Howie look at his daughter that way though. It gives me a vicarious rush of pride since it’s probably as close as I’ll come to it.
“You’re right,” Howie says. “Okay. We’ll do Thanksgiving the way your mom would want us to do it this year. We’ll start a new tradition by bringing back the old traditions.”
Maeve jumps up and comes around the table, throwing her arms around her father’s neck from behind. He laughs as she kisses him on the cheek.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“When did my daughter become so wise?”
“Don’t worry about a thing, Dad. Myles and I will handle everything,” she says. “It’ll be the best Thanksgiving we’ve had in a long time.”
“I know it will be, honey.”
As they laugh together, Maeve cuts a glance at me and smiles. I let out a quiet breath of relief and smile back at her. I tip her a wink and take a drink of my wine. The girl’s quick thinking got us out of an awkward situation. Of course, it also put us smack dab in the middle of another one since I’m pretty sure neither one of us knows fuck all about preparing her mother’s Thanksgiving meal.
Bloody fucking hell.
5
MAEVE
Iwoke up to a text from my dad telling me he had to go into the office. Because of course he did. My dad really needs to learn to relax. Better, he needs to hire some people to help run the company so he can go and take a vacation, like Myles suggested. And maybe, he can find love again too. I hate seeing him all alone. And when he tells me he’s happy, I don’t believe him. Not entirely. I can see the emptiness in him sometimes and it breaks my heart.
Sliding out of bed, I hear a splash in the pool. Stepping to my window, I pull the curtain aside slightly and peer into the backyard. My breath catches in my throat as I see Myles climbing out of the pool. My eyes traverse the hard angles and planes of his body and I feel a quiver low inside of me as I watch the muscles in his arms and legs flex.