Finally Found

When Adam woke, startled by the ringing of the phone, he realized as he rushed into the kitchen that Cammie wasn’t there. How long had he been asleep? Had she given up and run off on him. He picked up the phone distractedly, hoping that somehow it might be her.

“Hello?” He asked both confused and concerned.

“Adam, it’s Haley…” She began seriously.

“I’ll have to call you back.” Without even thinking, he hung up the phone. He could see that her vehicle was gone, but the question was whether or not she was coming back. Wandering through the house, he explored the guest room and discovered all of her belongings were still there, nice and neat in a big black duffle bag. He shivered. Did every woman have a big black duffle bag to squish her life into and run off? He was headed back out of the room when he heard a car door slam.

Cammie had returned. He breathed a sigh of relief even as he wondered why it bothered him so much. After all, her presence made more work for him. Her absence meant a week of leisure. He frowned. He’d had entirely too much leisure in this lifetime. It was time to make his life count. And the best way to do that was by helping others.

Smiling, he headed to the door just in time to help her as she struggled to open it. “Let me get that,” he said as he tried to collect the bags from her arms.

“I’ve got this but if you want to help, there’s still plenty more in the trunk that still has to be carried in.” She brushed by him and continued on toward the kitchen.

Shrugging, Adam walked to her car and saw that she wasn’t joking. The entire trunk was positively packed with groceries. He was still standing there eyeing the bags when she was suddenly at his side.

“Yo, genius, these bags aren’t going to carry themselves into the house.” And without another word, she simply started grabbing the bags and loading the plastic handles onto her hands.

“This can’t all be for Friday, can it?” He asked. “I said cocktail party, not four course meal!”

She laughed and responded lightly. “Nah, but I for one do not plan on missing out on my favorite cooking holiday just because I’m stuck here with you.”

Giving himself a mental head slap, he realized that he had all but forgotten National Football and Turkey Day. Since he had no use for football and little interest in turkey, he had spent the last few years looking at it as a day off, a drinking holiday, an opportunity to sleep in, a day to recuperate from all the debauchery the night before. He and Sam had not celebrated it since their parents passed away. Well, in truth, maybe Sam had and he simply hadn’t been invited. He tried to picture Sam and Neville eating alone at that big long table in that cold empty dining room. It wasn’t a pretty picture.

In an instant, he began to imagine Thanksgiving here, at the Hamptons house. Though they had celebrated Christmas here on occasion, they had never enjoyed Thanksgiving anywhere but in the city. Father had suggested it once, but mom claimed that it was too much work to transport all that food, since her preparations began days in advance. And every year after the same discussion, his father would agree. It looked like all of that was changing this year.

Without thinking, he headed to the kitchen and the phone. Cammie was unloading groceries and putting them away in the fridge, freezer, and pantry. She was humming happily to herself. Adam was distracted for a moment. She looked absolutely lovely. When she was like this, he had no difficulty at all remembering that she wanted her coffee light and sweet. She all but radiated joy at the moment and Adam wanted nothing more than to be a part of it.

He slowly picked up the phone, reluctantly dialed his brother’s cell phone, and suddenly spoke words that he never imagined he’d be speaking. “Sam, why don’t you and Haley come to the Hamptons house for Thanksgiving?”

“Well, we were hoping you would come here. We have Ellen, Ryan, and little Abigail coming over. You remember them, right?” His voice, which had started sternly, was slowly softening, becoming more normal.

“Yes, but all the food is here. Do you have any food there?” He leaned against the counter.

“Neville was going to…”

“Your next words had better be…help us pack the car to come to the Hamptons. Seriously, Sam. We’ve never had Thanksgiving here. I’m here. Cammie’s here. Food is here. Come here.” And he waited. He knew that eventually Sam would see reason.

“Thanksgiving is supposed to be kind of special,” he said in tone that suggested Adam should know what he meant.

Adam straightened. “Are you popping the question? We can make it super special. All you’ll have to worry about is how to react when she comes to her senses and turns you down! Bring everyone with you. Come the night before. Stay for the weekend. We have so much to talk about. And I need your help…” He smiled widely.

Damn, he should have used that approach from the beginning. Sam never denied him help. He was the big brother who had been given the daunting task of looking out for his younger brother all those years ago. He smirked. He could just about hear the inner conflict waging inside Sam at the moment.

“Fine. I’ll make the arrangements.” Sam sighed. “You owe me for this one.” Then the phone disconnected.

It was amazing. He had pulled it off. Everyone was coming here for Thanksgiving. “Hey, doll!” He called over to Cammie, lost in her own world.

She paused and looked up at him once she had finished pouring the sugar into the canister. “Yes. And for the record, I’m not sure I like you calling me ‘doll.’” She frowned at him.

“Well, I know I detest you calling me ‘genius.’ Get over it.” He chuckled. “Just thought you should know we’re having company for Thanksgiving.”

“Great,” she shrugged as she turned around and tossed the empty bag in the garbage.

“I’m springing this on you after you have returned from the grocery store.” He watched and waited for her reaction.

“I know.” She moved over to grab the flour and add that to the appropriate canister.

“You are a girl, right? I mean…I thought girls were supposed to freak out over this kind of thing. You’re meeting the family, celebrating a holiday together, and cooking for probably more people than you anticipated.” He leaned on the counter and watched her, waiting for it to sink in.

Sighing, she looked at him with raised brow, “First of all, these people aren’t my family. They are yours. Second, it’s not like we’re dating. Not only are you not my type, but this is a business arrangement. And finally, because this is my business, kind of my thing, I always expect more people than RSVP. So, does that about cover it? Can I finish unloading the groceries in peace, and then we can talk ad campaign over lunch. I thought I’d do something simple today like sandwiches. You do eat sandwiches, right?”

“Let me get this straight…you’re not freaking out and you’re going to make me a sandwich? Too bad I’m not your type because right now, you are the girl of my dreams.” And with that, he turned on his heels and headed back out of the kitchen.