“Perfect, but just carry them. Set them on the floor next to you. You’ll totally look casual but, yet, amazing.”
“Okay, I’m going to go put on a little makeup. I’ll meet you in the great room.”
She stops, gets tears in her eyes, and looks at me. Then she rushes back to me and gives me a tight hug. “Thank you for bringing me here and for the dress. I’ve never been so happy in my life.”
“Just have fun tonight. He’s taking you somewhere special.”
“That’s what he said, but he won’t tell me where. Seriously, I feel like I’ve walked into a fairytale. Hell, I’m even getting dressed in a flipping turret.”
“Go finish getting ready, so you’ll look perfect,” I say, escorting her to the door.
Once I close it, I sit on my bed and stare at the computer she left behind.
Yes. I’m a glutton for punishment.
But I can’t stop myself.
I open it and type in our match on a different website hoping to get a different result.
And I do.
But this one is worse.
As a lover, the Sagittarius man likes to explore his lover’s mind, body, and soul.
I shut the computer and focus on getting ready.
I quickly shower off then throw on a soft crepe halter dress with an ombre wash that variegates from a pale pink at the neck to a deep orange at the hem. I pair it with white studded double strapped platform wedges.
My mind suddenly flashes to Aiden slowly taking this dress off me.
I close my eyes and indulge my mind for a few seconds before focusing on looking amazing.
I braided my hair while it was wet and let it dry in the sun, so I unbraid it, gently run my fingers through the soft waves and then add some balm to make it shine.
I stand back and study myself in the mirror. My face is tan and glowing, so I decide to skip foundation and blush and just add some sparkly pink eye shadow, a thin swoop of black liner, a bunch of mascara, and a peachy lipgloss.
I check the time and, seeing that I have a few minutes to spare, decide to check my phone.
There are texts from all of the Johnson boys, Maggie & Logan, Annie, and Katie, all wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving. But it’s Dallas’ text that cracks me up.
Dallas: Would it be in bad taste if I offered to share my wishbone with the governor’s hot 16-year-old daughter?
Me: You can always make me laugh. I love that about you. Happy Thanksgiving. Let me know if she decides to, uh, make a wish.
It’s noon in Vancouver, so I decide to call my family. I remember last Thanksgiving. The girls running around in little pilgrim headbands. Gracie wanting Tommy to buy her a pet turkey.
The phone is answered with, “Bonjour.”
“Well, bonjour to you. Is this Avery?”
“Kiki?!”
“Hi, sweetie. I just called to tell you happy Thanksgiving. Are you going to eat lots of turkey and stuffing today?”
She lets out a big sigh. “We were supposed to.”
“What happened?”
“Bad Kiki jumped up on the kitchen island and ate the turkey while we were setting the table.”
“Oh, no! I bet Daddy was mad.”
“He said merde. That’s a bad word.”
“Yes, it is. Why are you speaking French today?”
“I’m practicing. We’re moving to France!”
I let out a huge sigh of relief, knowing that Mom would never tell the girls unless it was a sure thing.
“That’s amazing! You’ll love it there.”
“Mommy says we’ll get to go to the store, and to the beach, and to the park there! We don’t get to here.”
“That will be so much fun. Can I talk to your sisters?”
“Sure! I’ll go get them.”
I hear her running through the house, her little bare feet padding across the hardwood floors. I swear, this time next year, I’ll be with them. No matter what.
I hear a chorus of, “Kiki!!” and “Happy Turkey Day, Kiki!”
Then, “Gracie, don’t grab the phone out of my hands! It’s rude!”
Then Gracie’s sweet little voice, “I miss my Good Kiki.”
“I miss you too, Gracie. I heard the puppy was naughty and ate your turkey.”
Gracie laughs. “Daddy was chasing after Bad Kiki and she had bones in her mouth. I laugh and laugh at Daddy and Kiki.”
“It bet it was funny. How’s Mommy?”
“She’s sick.”
“Sick?”
“Yes, she in bed wiff the flu.”
“Can I talk to her?”
“She sleeping. Daddy say, Girls, be quiet. But Daddy yelled at Kiki.”
“Where’s Kiki now?”
“Under Gracie’s bed. She know it safe cuz Gracie love her Bad Kiki. Daddy say Kiki might not go to France and Gracie cry and tell Daddy, Bad Kiki no go, Gracie no go.”
I can’t help but laugh. I so wish I was there, because even though the house is always filled with chaos, it’s like the perfect chaos. I hope Inga was right. I pray I live a long life and have a houseful of my own kids someday.
“Keatyn?” a deep voice asks.
“Hey, Tommy. Happy Thanksgiving. The girls said they’re moving to France.”
“Happy Thanksgiving to you too, baby. Tell me you’re with some friends and not all alone.”
“I’m with some friends, Tommy.”