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Later, when I asked her why she didn't fight me about Matt, she said, lips pursed, green eyes full of fire, "One day, I'm going to steal him back from you, Jenny. And you'll have to forgive me because I forgave you."
The memory brings a smile to my lips as I think about innocent, naïve, young Fallon and Jenny. What a mess we were.
Kyle slips the mug of hot chocolate from my hand, bringing my attention back to him, and takes a big sip. I watch as he licks the whipped cream off his upper lip just as the sun peeks through the grey clouds. The entire neighborhood glows in stunning rays of amber and lemon. The sun touches everything—snowy mounds of ice, the cleared black asphalt road, pine trees weeping beneath the weight of frozen precipitation, rooted in place, unable to shake the load clinging to their sinewy branches.
Maybe that's it. The trees can't rid themselves of their burdens, but we can.
"I think," I say cautiously, "forgiveness is something we do for ourselves. It's not about the other person, Kyle. It's about making sure we don't hold onto things that are too heavy. And what your mom did? That's too much weight for you to be carrying around. Maybe it's just time to let it go."
He leans forward, presses his lips to mine. They're cold and sweet and soft. I dive further into his touch, wanting to heal all the broken pieces of his heart. Wanting to thank him for giving me a chance to know him—all of him. Even the screwed-up parts that he hides from the rest of the world.
Because sometimes we don't get closure.
And I don't think Kyle ever will.
Not from his mom.
Not now.
—
"Alright everyone," Mom smiles brightly. "Let's go around the table and say what we're thankful for."
I inwardly groan as I stab a piece of turkey with my fork. This has got to be the worst Thanksgiving tradition in the history of the world. Especially this year.
Mom explains, like she does every year, that everyone has to uncomfortably share what they're most grateful for. No repeating the person's answer before you. And it must be prefaced with I'm thankful for.
Mom starts. "I'm thankful for my family and friends."
Yep, same thing she says every year. Thanks for stealing the easiest answer, Mom.
Dad goes next. Grumbles something about the Broncos because the Rockies disappointed him during play-offs.
Randy smiles lovingly at Diane when it's his turn, says, "I'm thankful for all the time I've had, and still get to have, with the love of my life."
"I'm thankful for Lainey's cooking," Diane blurts out right after with a full mouth of mashed potatoes. "It's so good."
Pretty sure she's the only one who feels that way. Mom's not the greatest cook, but she seems to have mastered Thanksgiving dinner with my help. That's definitely something to be thankful for.
"I'm thankful for all of you," Audra beams as she tiredly rubs her eight-month pregnant belly.
I see Matt reach an arm over, squeezing her hand beneath the table. He suddenly scoots his chair back, stands before kneeling in front of her. Mom's eyes widen to the size of saucers as she grips the table with her hand beside me.
Oh no, oh no, oh no...
He pulls something small out of the back pocket of his jeans, holds it in front of Audra.
It feels like the room is getting smaller, caving in as everyone stares ahead, in shock.
Even Kyle, who's hand on my thigh tenses.
"Audra," Matt begins, "I'm most thankful this year for you and our daughter. I know our relationship started off on the wrong foot and it's been a bumpy ride ever since, but I want to start over. I want us to be on the same page. We don't have to get married right away, unless you want to, but it's something I've been thinking about a lot lately. I know, down the road, I want it to be the next step for us."
There's a long pause as he opens the black velvet box.
Tears seep over the tired rims of Audra's eyes, sparkling as the golden flames from the burning candles dance across her cheeks.
"Audra, will you marry me?"
