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Hayden’s cheeks turned slightly pink at Margaret’s exuberance. “And this quiet giant back here is my dad, Stephen.”
“Hi, Charlotte. I hope my boys haven’t been too hard on you this afternoon. We’re glad you’re here.”
“Thank you, Stephen.”
“Good to see you, Dad,” Hayden said, wrapping his arms around his dad in a hug that was enthusiastically returned, back slaps and all.
“All right, so where are we? What needs to be done next?”
Hunter called from the other side of the room, “Charlotte still has three more questions to answer.”
“Twenty questions?” Stephen asked knowingly, the affection for his sons apparent in the pride in his eyes.
“Yup. I’ve only skipped two, though, so I hear I’m headed for a record.”
“I skipped five on my first go-around,” Margaret said. “You’re a brave woman.”
At that moment, my phone rang in my pocket. I took it out and saw my mom’s name on the caller ID.
“This is my parents. I should take it and wish them a Happy Thanksgiving.”
Hayden squeezed my arm supportively, an innocent gesture without calling attention to the weight this call held. “Why don’t you take it out on the terrace? It shouldn’t be too miserable out there with the sun shining.”
I nodded and crossed the room to the double doors leading to the balcony, hearing Preston say, “All right, it’s sides time people,” as I shut the door behind me.
“Hi, Mom. Happy Thanksgiving,” I said, answering the call.
“Hi, Charlotte. Happy Thanksgiving. Your dad’s here with me on speakerphone. Are you cooking at home today?”
“Oh, I’m with Hay—with my roommate’s family at his brother’s place today,” I winced, referring to Hayden as my roommate, but I wasn’t ready to open that box with my parents.
“That’s nice he has family in the city. We’re at the store. We’ll be heading to Joe’s Café to pick up to-go dinners on our way home soon.”
“Oh, you’re not cooking this year?” I asked, not able to keep the surprise out of my voice.
There was a pause. “No,” my dad answered. “A lot of things are different this year.”
“Don’t tell me you’re doing away with the bargain blind-date-with-a-book bin. The tourists will riot,” I joked.
My parents laughed thinly. “No, the bin is ready to go,” my dad answered.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, suddenly nervous by their tones.
“Well,” my mom said. “We would have preferred to do this in person if you had been able to come home.”
“Yeah, about that, I’m really sorry?—”
“No, no,” my mom interrupted. “Sorry, that wasn’t supposed to make you feel guilty. Let’s see, where should we start?”
“Your mom and I have been going to couple’s counseling these last few months,” my dad interjected.
“You have?” I said, very unsure where this was going.
“We have,” my mom confirmed, sounding tired. “And I think what your dad is getting at is that the message would have always been the same, but the delivery has changed.”
“Guys, I’m so confused. What’s going on?”
My mom let out a big breath of air. “We’re going to be closing the store. I’m not entirely sure when. It won’t be until after the first of the year, but we’re going to liquidate Ridge Reads.”
