Ian took one more swig of his beer. “I’m not obsessed. I’m single-minded and determined.”
Lily looped her arm through his, and Sophia did the same on the other side. “Why don’t we put that energy to good use? We need help setting the table and carrying out the turkey.”
“There are plenty of people inside,” Ian protested with a look over his shoulders. “I need to stay out here where it’s quiet and I can talk.”
“You’re the host; don’t be rude,” Sophia told him with a frown. “Lucy needs your help because Kelli, Dana, and Dean are running late. Kelli’s car broke down again.”
Ian relented and allowed himself to be pulled inside.
A blast of hot air hit him in the face, followed by a loud cacophony of voices. Suddenly, he was being passed around for hugs and kisses till he ended up in the kitchen, opposite Lucy, who had a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead and a tired smile on her face. Immediately, he set to work and nudged her out of the kitchen.
Kelli, Dean, and Dana emerged a short while later, and the four of them alternated between putting the finishing touches on the food and making sure Lucy was relaxed. One by one, the Wilson clan lined up to help carry the food over to the table.
A few dishes were set on the coffee table, and the smaller foldable table was set up in the living room. Ian caught hisfather’s concerned look and gave him a bright smile. Stu sat down next to Lucy and drew her into conversation. In the background, music began to play, and the sound of cutlery filled the air.
Ian wound up at the head of the table, with Lucy on one side, Sophia on the other, and the rest of the Wilson clan taking up every empty space in the living room. His eyes swept over the room, and he felt a familiar swell of emotion rise within his chest.
It only grew when Grandpa Frank, who sat at the other head of the table, stood up and tapped a fork against his glass. “I wanted to thank Lucy and Ian for opening up their home to us and for the best Thanksgiving dinner to date.”
“Hear, hear.”
“And I want to thank all of you for being here tonight. I can’t think of a better group of people to celebrate with,” Grandpa Frank added, pausing to drop a kiss on top of his wife’s head. “Here’s to all of us.”
A chorus of well-wishes rose, and everyone began to pass around the food.
Ian pushed his food around the plate and barely heard a word that was said.
He heard his name mentioned a few times, but no one spoke to him directly. During dinner, Ian did his best to be present and aware, especially when Marissa, her husband, and their daughter arrived, but it felt like he was watching it all happen from a distance.
Like he was watching through a thin pane of glass.
His knee wouldn’t stop bouncing underneath the table, and he couldn’t stop praying for Bryce’s call.
No matter how much he wanted to.
By the time everyone left for the night, Ian had a headache, and his stomach was in knots. In silence, he and the kids helpedclean up while Lucy stayed in their room. As soon as he was done, he went to check on her and found her fast asleep. With a smile, he drew the covers up to her chin and flicked the lights off. When he went back downstairs, Kelli, Dana, and Dean were sprawled on the living room couch, an old black-and-white movie playing in the background.
Ian lingered in the doorway, watching them smile and tease each other.
Then he picked up his keys and wallet and called out over his shoulder.
In the car, he drove around aimlessly through the empty streets of Falmouth. A short while later, he pulled up to the hospital building in surprise and ignored the voice of protest in the back of his head. He hadn’t even realized where he was going up until a few minutes ago.
But he knew he couldn’t leave now.
Hehadto see Jake. It was the only way to make sense of the jumbled mess in his head.
In spite of his better judgment, Ian forced himself out of the car, up the stairs, and through the double set of glass doors leading into the hospital. The smell of disinfectant hit him first, followed by the sound of shoes squeaking against the linoleum floors.
Doctors and nurses in scrubs and clogs rushed past in either direction.
Ian’s vision focused, and he took in the gray-colored walls with streamers and a group of individuals sitting behind a large desk. After getting the necessary information, Ian found himself striding down a long hallway that led to a pair of elevators. While he waited to reach his floor, he avoided looking at his reflection directly and instead tapped his feet.
On the fifth floor, the doors pinged open, and Ian stepped out. A police officer with a bald patch in the center of his headwas stationed outside Jake’s door. His expression gave nothing away as he spoke into the radio and checked Ian’s badge. Then he twisted the knob and ushered Ian inside. The room had pale white walls, a small TV mounted to the wall, and a large bed where Jake lay in a hospital gown, a monitor on one side and an IV drip on the other.
Seeing Jake like this still made Ian uneasy.
“I hope you brought me some decent food,” Jake grumbled, both eyes flying open at once. “I thought prison food was bad, but hospital food is definitely a runner-up.”
