Page 74 of Deck the Hauls

My eyes widened. We haven’t even eaten the main meal yet?

Lucia was setting out bowls of mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes. Emily was carrying over platters of broccoli and green beans.

Oh god.

I tentatively helped myself to a slice of turkey with gravy and a small portion of each of the sides.

If I did go home for Christmas or Thanksgiving at some point, I’d need to ask Emily’s parents for cooking tips and then try to work out how to tactfully pass them on to my parents. The turkey was tender and juicy, like no other I’d ever tasted.

I rested my fork on the plate and stifled a yawn. Damn, I was feeling tired.

When dessert came out—pumpkin, apple and pecan pies, biscotti and cannoli and strong espresso—I almost cried. It looked incredible, but my stomach was stretched to its absolute limit. Why had I eaten two large servings of lasagna?

My eyelids felt heavy. I sipped coffee, hoping it would help wake me up. Before long, I had miraculously found space for a small slice of delicious pecan pie and half of the best cannoli I’d eaten in my life.

“You have to try Aunt Toni’s pignoli. They’re incredible.” Emily passed a plate of round cookies covered in pine nuts to me.

I bit into the smallest one I could find, the crunchy exterior giving way to a soft, moist almond-flavored center.

“They are good! Thank you.” I could eat another five of those, if my stomach wasn’t about to explode. I also now had to pee. And damn, I was tired. I would go to the restroom, splash some water over my face, and then head off. If I needed to, I’d stop for another coffee on the way.

I stood up, and the world tilted. I gripped the chair for balance.

“Are you okay?” Emily peered up at me with concern.

“My balance is a bit off. I’m sure it will sort itself out.”

I walked carefully to the restroom. Was the dizziness caused by the tryptophan in the turkey, the lack of sleep last night, or my body shutting down from overeating? Possibly a combination of all three. It almost felt like I was drunk, but I hadn’t had any alcohol. Was it safe for me to drive home?

I still felt unsteady on my feet as I sat back down at the table. Another wave of fatigue hit me and my eyelids drooped.

What was the time anyway? I glanced at my watch. Shit. How was it already 5 p.m.?

“Dana,” Emily said. “I think we should get you into bed.”

I needed to get back to Sapphire Springs and start preparing for the opening weekend of the trees going on sale. I needed to put some distance between me and Emily.

But I was so tired. Perhaps I could just take a quick power nap on a couch—definitely not in Emily’s room; that would be a recipe for disaster—and then set off for home?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

EMILY

Lucia and I walked on the pavement that encircled Dyker Beach Golf Course, hands stuffed in coat pockets, breath white against the cold morning air. After spending yesterday sitting in Dana’s truck, followed by sitting around a table eating, it felt good to be outside stretching our legs.

“Why didn’t you go to Ryan’s parents’ for Thanksgiving this year?” I asked, leaping over a slush puddle. The snow was melting already, mixing with the dirt, and was no longer pristine white. “Is everything okay?”

Lucia sighed, watching a flock of starlings fly above the bare trees that lined the pavement. “No, actually. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but it all came to a head just as you started filming, and I didn’t want it to distract you. We’re breaking up.”

I stopped walking. “What? What happened?”

I’d never bonded with Ryan—his outgoing personality always felt a little forced—but Lucia had loved him. What had gone wrong?

“We’ve been drifting apart for a while, both just caught up with work and the gym, stuck on our phones, and not spending much quality time together. It got worse last year when Ryan was told he was on track to be made partner but needed to increase his billable hours. Since then, he’s been working later and later nights and most weekends as well,” Lucia said as we started walking again.

“The hours those law firms expect is ridiculous. That really sucks.”

“I know.” Lucia kicked a piece of dirty snow with her boot. “I did try to do something about it. A few months ago, I suggested that we do at least one thing together every weekend, like a hike or a date night, and Ryan was really good at making time for that, which I appreciated. But spending that one-on-one time with him made me realize we didn’t have a lot in common anymore. He’s so focused on work, getting promoted, buying a fancy car. Meanwhile, I want to spend time doing the things I love outside work. I’m hoping to take a couple of weeks’ vacation next year to travel around South America and drop down to four days a week so that I can spend more time on music.”