Walking Disaster (Beautiful Disaster #2)

“Thomas’s room has been storage for years now, so I was going to let him take your room. I guess he can sleep on the couch,” Dad said, looking at its ratty, discolored cushions.

“Don’t worry about it, Jim. We were just trying to be respectful,” Abby said, touching my arm.

Dad’s laughter bellowed throughout the house, and he patted her hand. “You’ve met my sons, Abby. You should know it’s damn near impossible to offend me.”

I nodded toward the stairs, and Abby followed. I gently pushed open the door with my foot and sat our bags on the floor, looking at the bed and then turning to Abby. Her gray eyes were big as they scanned the room, stopping on a picture of my parents that hung from the wall.

“I’m sorry, Pidge. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Damn straight you will,” she said, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

I sat on the bed, realizing just how unhappy she was about the situation. I guess part of me hoped she’d be as relieved as I was to be together. “This is going to be a fucking mess. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I know exactly what you were thinking. I’m not stupid, Travis.”

I looked up and offered a tired smile. “But you still came.”

“I have to get everything ready for tomorrow,” she said, opening the door.

I stood. “I’ll help you.”

As Abby prepared the potatoes, pies, and turkey, I was busy fetching and handing her things, and completed the small cooking tasks she assigned to me. The first hour was awkward, but when the twins arrived, everyone seemed to congregate in the kitchen, helping Abby to relax. Dad told Abby stories about us boys, and we laughed about tales of previous disastrous Thanksgivings when we attempted to do something other than order pizza.

“Diane was a hell of a cook,” Dad mused. “Trav doesn’t remember, but there was no sense trying after she passed.”

“No pressure, Abby,” Trenton said. He chuckled, and then grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Let’s get out the cards. I want to try to make back some of my money that Abby took.”

Dad waved his finger. “No poker this weekend, Trent. I brought down the dominoes; go set those up. No betting, dammit. I mean it.”

Trenton shook his head. “All right, old man, all right.” My brothers meandered from the kitchen, and Trenton followed, stopping to look back. “C’mon, Trav.”

“I’m helping Pidge.”

“There’s not much more to do, baby,” Abby said. “Go ahead.”

I knew she had only said it for show, but it didn’t change the way it made me feel. I reached for her hip. “You sure?”

She nodded and I leaned over to kiss her cheek, squeezing her hip with my fingers before following Trenton into the game room.

We sat down in the card room, settling in for a friendly game of dominoes.

Trenton broke out the box, cursing the cardboard for slicing the underside of his fingernail before dealing out the bones.

Taylor snorted. “You’re such a fucking baby, Trent, just deal.”

“You can’t count anyway, douche. What are you so eager about?”

I laughed at Trenton’s comeback, drawing his attention to me.

“You and Abby are getting along well,” he said. “How did this all work out?”

I knew what he meant, and I shot him a glare for broaching the subject in front of the twins. “With much persuasion.”

Dad arrived and sat down. “She’s a good girl, Travis. I’m happy for you, son.”

“She is,” I said trying not to let the sadness show on my face.

Abby was busy cleaning in the kitchen, and it seemed I spent every second fighting the urge to join her. It may have been a family holiday, but I wanted to spend every spare moment with her that I could.

A half hour later, grinding noises alerted me to the fact that the dishwasher had been started. Abby walked by to wave quickly before making her way to the stairs. I jumped up and took her hand.

“It’s early, Pidge. You’re not going to bed, are ya?”

“It’s been a long day. I’m tired.”

“We were getting ready to watch a movie. Why don’t you come back down and hang out?”

She looked up the stairs and then down to me. “Okay.”

I led her by the hand to the couch, and we sat together as the opening credits rolled.

“Shut off that light, Taylor,” Dad ordered.

I reached behind Abby, resting my arm on the back of the couch. I fought wrapping both my arms around her. I was wary about her reaction, and I didn’t want to take advantage of the situation when she was doing me a favor.

Halfway through the movie, the front door flew open, and Thomas rounded the corner, bags in hand.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” he said, setting his luggage on the floor.

Dad stood up and hugged him, and everyone but me stood to greet him.

“You’re not going to say hi to Thomas?” Abby whispered.

I watched my dad and brothers hug and laugh. “I got one night with you. I’m not going to waste a second of it.”

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