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Logan has already finished off half his serving. “We should play a friendly game of football after lunch. Let you sweat out all those toxins.”
The girls make horrified faces, and my stomach twists with panic. As soon as it hits, I remind myself of what Jack said at the barn.Distorted thinking. Change your mindset. Here goes: Just because we play football as a family on Thanksgiving, doesn’t mean something bad will happen.
“I’m down,” I say, and Dylan’s eyes flicker to mine.
“Really?”
“Sure. Logan’s right. Exercise will make you feel better.”
“I think it’ll make me urp,” Allie groans.
“Don’t say that word or I will!” Rachel puts a hand over her face.
“Here.” I tear off a piece of bread and hand it to her.
She slips it into her mouth, and when I look up three pairs of eyes are watching us. “What?”
“Y’all are so cuuute!” Dylan cries, leaning hard on her elbow and taking a tiny bite of dressing. Her brown eyes are warm as she watches me. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen that smile. I love it.”
“It’s been too long since I felt like smiling.” I rub my hand up and down Rachel’s back, and she lifts her chin to kiss my neck.
“Where’s Eddie?” Allie asks, leaning her head on her hand.
“Glued to the pool.” Dylan nods in the direction of the tables where my brother and Benji are hanging out with Austin. “I made him a plate of turkey and dressing right when we got here, so he’s been fed.”
“Thanks, Dee. It was sweet of Austin to pick up Benji.” Rachel sits up, taking another bite of turkey. “I’m actually starting to feel a little better.”
“The water helped,” I say, patting her back.
“I’m sure the exercise didn’t hurt.” Dylan teases. “Did you swallow some of the other white meat last night, Rach?”
“Oh my God,” Rachel leans forward with a snort.
“Good one.” Allie points at her.
“Dylan.” My eyes level on hers. “Spare me.”
“Sorry, Grandpaw.” She holds up her hands, and the three of them laugh more.
As much as I don’t want to talk about my sex life with my little sister, I really like her and Rachel being so close. It bonds us tighter, making us feel more like a foregone conclusion.
“How’s the turkey?” Jack walks in carrying two plates of food, followed closely by Kimmie waving a stuffed green turtle over her head.
“Look, Uncle Zee! Uncle Grizz sent me a green cooter!” She waves it, jumping around in a circle before running to the other end of the table. “Look, Baba, it’s a river cooter!”
“That’s right.” Thomas leans back grinning and patting her little back. “Do you know why they call it a cooter, Kimmie Joy?”
“Because it’s funny?” Her eyes are wide.
“Kutais the word forturtlein Mali and Senegal.”
“You’re kidding.” I turn to Thomas. “I thought some old redneck made that up.”
“Nope.” Thomas smiles. “They just mispronounced it.”
“I have to show Aussie and Eddie and Ben!” She starts for the pool area, but her dad stops her.
“After you eat.” Jack’s voice is firm, and her path makes an arc back to where her dad is sitting.
