Page 72 of Deck the Hauls

Although, how was she holding up after Austin’s unacceptable conduct yesterday? The memory of Austin’s behavior and Emily’s revelation about Phillip came rushing back. When we got a moment to ourselves, I’d check in with her.

As we walked up the front steps, I surreptitiously sniffed myself. Hmmm. I wished I’d changed out of my clothes I’d been wearing since 3am. Brushing my hair and showering would have been a good idea too.

“Where do they store it all?” I asked Emily, gesturing at the snowman decorations on the front porch to distract myself from how physically and mentally unprepared I was to meet Emily’s family.

Emily laughed. “It’s an ongoing challenge. The garage is usually overflowing. One year I came home to discover Mom had put Mary and Joseph in my closet, which gave me quite the fright when I opened it to find them staring at me, glassy eyed.”

I chuckled. We reached the front door, framed with more Christmas lights and featuring another wreath.

Emily knocked and then twisted the handle, revealing a hallway with wooden floors. Footsteps thudded. A woman who looked almost identical to Emily, but with her brown hair cropped just above her shoulders, raced down the hall. That must be Lucia. An older man and woman who also shared the same dark hair and hazel eyes as Emily, appeared behind her.

“Em!” Lucia enveloped Emily in an enormous hug.

“Hello, I’m Angela,” Emily’s mom said, smiling at me. She was impeccably dressed in loose beige pants and a white shirt, paired with a gold necklace and matching earrings visible under her shoulder-length brown hair. “You must be Dana. Thank you so much for bringing her home.” Angela wrapped her arms around me, warm and comforting, and most of my nerves dissipated.

Emily’s dad, wearing navy chinos and a light blue shirt, stepped forward and shook my hand. “And I’m Vincent.”

“Is it okay if Dana takes a shower before everyone arrives?” Emily asked. “She was up early clearing snow and didn’t have a chance to shower before we left.”

Everyone? How many people were they expecting?

“Of course,” Angela said. “You must be exhausted.”

Emily led me up the staircase. “I’ll grab you a towel and change of clothes.”

In the shower, I closed my eyes, letting the hot water stream over my face and body. Last night, it was Emily’s hands roaming my naked body…

I sighed. I hope this doesn’t keep happening or Thanksgiving dinner is going to be excruciating. I didn’t want to fall for someone who was not available and who didn’t want to be with me. It had taken me years to create a new life for myself after Kelsey. I couldn’t deal with it all being upended again.

The sensation of Emily’s mouth trailing down my neck hit me, and I bit my lip.

Shit. Do cold showers really work?

I turned the tap to cold, yelped loudly as icy water hit me, and hastily turned the temperature back to warm. Perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to relive a night of mind-blowing sex in privacy. Maybe I could get it all out of my system before Emily’s family dinner.

After a few more minutes, I forced myself to turn the tap off. I toweled my body dry and pulled on Emily’s clothes. The jeans were a little tight and too short, but they would do. I found a brush in the vanity and pulled my hair back into a ponytail and then stared at my reflection in the mirror. I still had dark bags under my eyes, but at least I was clean.

Loud voices floated up the staircase as I opened the bathroom door, their volume increasing as I made my way downstairs. How many people had arrived while I was showering?

Three kids, probably around eight to ten years old, sprinted across the hallway, laughing as they disappeared down a flight of stairs.

I passed the dining room where five people with gray hair, who looked like they were pushing eighty, sat, talking loudly at one end of a long table that had been further extended by a large folding table. There must have been at least thirty place settings on the tables. An assortment of formal dining chairs, desk chairs and folding chairs surrounded them.

In the kitchen, Emily and Lucia were arranging cured meats on large antipasto platters. Vincent was stirring a huge pot over the stove while Angela spoke to another woman who must have been related to her—a sister or a cousin, perhaps—as she put the containers she was holding into the fridge.

Emily looked up and grinned. “You’re looking a little more awake. How are you feeling?”

“A lot better, thank you.”

We gazed at each other for a moment, an electrical current zapping through my veins. I swallowed. Was she finding this as tough as I was?

Emily handed me a garish mug covered in Christmas trees and reindeer, filled almost to the top with coffee. “Mom was making coffee, so I took the opportunity to get this. I couldn’t find any non-Christmas-themed mugs, but I figured you might overlook this monstrosity given the circumstances.”

“You are a lifesaver.” I took a sip from the mug and closed my eyes for a moment as the caffeine warmed me. “And I can confirm the coffee still tastes amazing despite the receptacle.”

Emily grinned. “Glad to hear it. Let me introduce you to everyone.”

She walked me around the house, introducing me to aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents. The front door kept opening as more relatives arrived, shedding coats in the hall before bringing food and drinks to the kitchen. There was no way I was going to remember everyone’s name. Before long, we were being ushered to our seats in the dining room.