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“Thank you for worrying, but I’m having Thanksgiving with Steve and his family.”
She eyed him with a faint air of disbelief.
“You’re sure?” she asked.
“Cross my heart. You can ask Steve.”
“Okay. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to be alone.”
“I’m not.”
“It’s just as well you have somewhere to go. We’ll be dealing with a lot of wedding talk.”
“That’s right. Your parents are getting married. That should be fun.”
“I’m happy for them. It’s a little odd, but hey, so are most parents. Reggie and I are thrilled that we won’t be bridesmaids, but Belle, the Great Dane, is going to be a flower girl.”
“I want to see a picture of that.”
Dena laughed. “I promise you several. Reggie’s making her a dress, and then I think the plan is to hang a basket of flowers around her neck. It should be charming. How are the meatballs?”
“Delicious. Did you want some?”
“I’ll get them.” Dena glanced toward the dining room. “And melon. I can’t have the prosciutto.”
“No processed meats.”
“No soft cheese, no alcohol.” She sighed. “No coffee.”
“You miss coffee?”
“Yes. Decaf just isn’t the same. Coffee and I were good together. It was a long-term thing and we were happy.”
“You’ll be together again soon.” He rose. “I’m going to get you some food.”
“Oh, you don’t have to. You’re my guest.”
She started to stand, but he waved her into her seat. “I’ll be right back.”
He went into the dining room and put meatballs and melon on a plate, then poured her a glass of juice. But when he returned to the alcove, Dena’s eyes were closed, and her head was leaning against back of the chair. Her slow, even breathing told him she’d fallen asleep. Unexpected tenderness swept through him, followed by a fierce sense of protectiveness.
Adriana had done the same thing, he thought, quietly sitting next to Dena, prepared to watch over her. Adriana had been embarrassed, but he’d found it charming. He still did.
He supposed it made sense that he was thinking of his late wife more these days. Being around a pregnant woman was bound to bring back memories. As he sipped his wine, he thought about how the images from the past were less sharp than they had been. They no longer cut like glass. Instead, they were a comfort. Recollections of a happier time that made him hopeful about the future.
Without thinking, he stretched out his arm and took one of Dena’s hands in his. She didn’t waken, instead shifting toward him and lacing her fingers with his. In the background he listened as the playlist moved on to another song. At first he didn’t recognize the opening bars, but then he smiled as George Strait began singing “Ocean Front Property.” The man had a great voice, he thought with a grin, and just enough twang to keep Dena happy.
Chapter Nine
“You should join us,” Reggie said, stretched out on the bed, Belle by her side. She shifted her phone to the other ear.
“If I skipped Thanksgiving, my mother would hunt me down and kill me,” Paisley said cheerfully. “As it is, I’m only staying for the day, and you know that makes her crazy.”
“She does like time with her favorite daughter.”
“I wish. I’m her only daughter. Okay, have a happy Thanksgiving. Let’s plan something for the weekend. I have a couple of daytime events at the resort, but we can party into the night.”
Reggie laughed. “Last time I was home by ten thirty.”
