The only other man who’d ever sat at her family’s Thanksgiving table, besides her father, was Ty. They’d been best friends since their stint at dating in high school tanked. She was a senior and he was home on a short leave from the Marines. They’d been somewhat friends before, even with the three-year age difference, and hung out during his ten-day stay.
The night before his return overseas, they slept together. And while it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t that great either. They lacked passion and chemistry. Granted, she was only in high school and at the time didn’t know what was missing.
Instead of their awkward sexual experience driving them apart, it actually drew them together. They corresponded regularly through email, and she sent care packages to him and his troop.
Their parents thought they’d marry, but they were adamant they were just friends. And they were. Ty Jacob Parker was her sounding board when she’d come home pregnant. He was thousands of miles away, which made him the only safe person to bear her soul to. She told him everything, had even emailed him when she was in college, telling him about the many moods of Justin Smithfield.
When she’d returned from her long day in New York, the first thing she did was fire up her computer and email Ty about how much in love she was. Of course, he was wary. And when Justin had blown her off in the coming weeks, Ty continued to remind Hope she deserved better.
After Justin’s death and her positive pregnancy test, she didn’t email Ty for weeks and had ignored his calls. It wasn’t until she was home, her eyes dry from weeks of crying, that she told him the rest.
She made him promise to never bring it up again. To never mention Justin or the Smithfield family or she’d end their friendship. True to his word, Ty never did. Not until Cameron showed up at The Happy Clam over a month ago.
Not one to pry, he’d stayed fairly quiet the past weeks, but Hope knew better. He put his feelers out, got the scoop on the new guy in town. If Ty had any concerns about Cameron, he would’ve interfered by now. But he hadn’t.
Which meant Ty approved, and that meant the world to her.
She scooped up a glob of butter she’d seasoned with thyme, sage, salt and pepper and spread it all over the bird. She’d watched and helped her mother make meals for holidays and hoped she remembered enough of her tips.
When in doubt, she would search the Internet for ideas.
The morning flew by, even with Hope keeping a watchful eye on the clock. They were eating at one, and she told her parents and Cameron to come over at noon for appetizers.
Delaney had been a big help in setting the table. Hope had borrowed her mother’s rust-colored Damask cloth to cover the cheap yard sale table she’d moved into the dining room. The space was too big for the little dinette set, but eating in the dining room made her feel more grown up. Like she was an adult with her own place.
Which she was, even if the house was barely furnished. In time, she’d have it decorated the way she wanted. First, she had to save up more money, then she had to figure out what her style was.
For now, her mother let her borrow a turkey platter and four serving dishes. They’d have to eat buffet style and serve their plates from the counter. There was no way the table could hold a turkey and their five plates.
She heard tires on the dirt driveway, and her heart thumped hard against her chest.
“Mom! Cameron’s here.”
She washed her hands and absently fixed her hair, wishing she had time to run upstairs and brush her teeth. It wasn’t like they’d be having a hot and heavy make-out session with Delaney in the house, but she didn’t want to bowl him over either.
Delaney had the door open before Hope got there, and together they watched Cameron climb out of his truck. He reached into the back for something and came out holding a paper bag and a bouquet of flowers.
When he looked up and saw them in the doorway, his face broke out into an adorably sheepish smile as if he was caught doing something good and wanted to be secretive about it.
“Ladies,” he said when he reached the door.
She and Delaney backed up so he could come in. “These are for you.” He handed her the bouquet, a mix of reds, oranges, and yellow flowers.
“Thank you.” She buried her nose into the blossoms. “They’re beautiful.”
Cameron closed the door behind him and set the bag on the floor so he could take off his coat.
“Delaney, can you hang Cameron’s coat in the closet?”
“Sure.” She took it and went down the hall.
“Thank you.” Hope snuck in a quick kiss before Delaney returned.
“You look beautiful.” He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and lowered his head to kiss her again, but Delaney’s footsteps had him pulling away. “Later,” he promised.
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
He reached down for the paper bag. “I wasn’t sure what to bring.”
“I told you to bring yourself.”
“I did.” He lifted the bag. “And a few other things.”
“Let’s head into the kitchen.”
Cameron followed her and set the bag on the counter. He pulled out a bottle of white wine and a bottle of sparkling cider. “For Delaney. Or anyone else who doesn’t want wine. Alexis, the owner of the winery in town, said you like the Lobster Red but suggested a white for dinner.”
“That was thoughtful of you.”
“I can’t cook much other than a baked potato, so I stopped at a bakery yesterday and picked up a pumpkin cheesecake. I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s more than okay.” Delaney peered into the bag. “Can we have some now?”
“My daughter has a sweet tooth the size of Texas.”
“Me too.”
Hope busied herself with the mashed potatoes as she listened to Delaney and Cameron talk about their favorite pies. Then ice cream. And finally, cookies.
“How you two aren’t fat is beyond me.”
“Must be the genes,” Cameron said. His head snapped toward Hope when he must have realized what he’d said, an apologetic plead in his eyes.
The comment was lost on Delaney who continued to ramble on about her favorite Christmas treats and her grandma’s baking.
Hope touched Cameron’s arm and whispered, “It’s okay.”
The fact that he cared so much about Delaney’s feelings and respected Hope enough to keep his relation to her daughter hush for now made her want to tell her daughter about him even more.
Delaney had accepted him so easily already, and she knew her daughter would love having a biological uncle. But with that would come questions about her father. Questions she squashed years ago with a quick, “He died before you were born.” She’d never asked about his family or anything other than his first name.
Eventually, Hope would tell her everything, but she was still so young, so innocent. And now that Hope learned the true extent of the evilness of the Smithfields, she didn’t want Delaney anywhere near it.
The sound of another vehicle perked up Delaney’s ears like a dog anticipating its owner’s arrival. “That must be Gram and Gramps.” She scurried down the hall and around the corner to the front door.
“You’d think she never gets to see them.”
“Your parents seem like good people. I think it’s wonderful they’re so close to Delaney. To have grandparents who are such a strong center in a grandchild’s life is important.”
A lump formed in Hope’s throat. She covered the potatoes and hid her dismay by turning to the sink and washing her hands. Was Cameron insinuating that his parents should know about Delaney? Or was he reminiscing about his lack of relationships growing up? He hadn’t mentioned anything about extended family. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. From the sound of his sad stories, Cameron didn’t have anyone other than his brother.
“I can’t tell you how weird it feels not to be basting a turkey all day,” her mother said from behind.
“Mom.” Hope spun around
and hugged her parents. “You deserve a year or ten off. It’s time for you to kick back and relax.”
“I suppose. Before you know it Delaney will be hosting our holiday meals.”
“I hope she visits us in the retirement home,” her father teased.
“You can live with us anytime,” Delaney offered.
“I’m sure your mother is enjoying her privacy.” Her father stuck out his hand to Cameron. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Thank you, sir. It’s my pleasure, trust me.”
“You hear that, missy?” Her father draped his arm across Delaney’s shoulder. “You find yourself a nice boy who treats you and your mother with classy manners.”
“I’m not dating anyone. Only Mom is.”
Her father’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “It’s been a long time since your mother brought a boy over to meet the parents.”
“I introduced you to Cameron last week.” Hope opened the oven door, a blast of heat washing over her face, and basted the turkey.
“Yes, well, before that. Must have been high school.”
There’d been a few men she’d dated over the past years but no one worth bringing home and introducing to her parents and daughter.
“I’m honored to break the spell,” Cameron chimed from the other side of the counter.
She closed the oven door and set the baster on the counter. Her parents grazed on cheese and crackers while Delaney sat on the windowsill in the kitchenette area. She wished she had barstools for people to relax on while hanging out in the kitchen. Yesterday, she and Delaney had moved her chintzy table into the dining room so they’d have more space, and now the kitchen seemed open and empty.
In due time she’d have the house furnished. Entertaining hadn’t been on the forefront of her mind when she’d toured it for the first time. Independence and a small private space were all she needed. But now that she had a home to call her own—sort of, since she was just renting it—the idea of owning something, possibly settling down with a man was all she could think about.
Cameron was all she could think of. She cast a quick glance at him across the counter, and her heart felt as warm as the butterball in the oven. He fit in so well with his easygoing nature and good manners. Hope had been worried her father would pull the over-protective ruler of the house on him, but he didn’t.
“Is that a bottle of Hidden White?” Her mother picked up the bottle and drew it close to her chest. “This is my favorite. Do you mind if we open the bottle now?”
“Sure. There’s a corkscrew in the drawer on the left.” Hope pointed with her elbow. “I’ll get the glasses. Dad, Cameron, do you want a glass as well?”
“I brought my beer. Left it on the front step to stay chilled. Figured your fridge would be busting to the brim if it looks anything like ours did on Thanksgiving.”
“Good call.”
“I can get your beer for you, Mr. Windward,” Cameron offered.
“It’s Rich. And grab one for yourself as well. I like that boy,” he said when Cameron left the room. “And he looks at you with respect, not like he wants to have his way with you.”
“Dad!” she scolded and tossed an angry look at him, jerking her head toward Delaney.
“It’s true,” her mother chimed in. “He loves you. We could tell last week. His eyes tell a sad story, but also speak of integrity.” She poured the wine and handed Hope a glass.
“You’ve known him for two seconds,” she whispered, even though she completely agreed with them.
“A mother knows these things.”
“And so does a father.”
“I like him too,” Delaney said from the other side of the kitchen.
Cameron showed up with two beers in his hand, flushed cheeks, and a sparkle in his eye she recognized as humor with a dash of heart.
“I do too,” she sighed and sipped her wine.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THEY SERVED THEMSELVES buffet style from the kitchen and brought their plates to the dining room. Cameron handed Hope a plate and waited for her and everyone else to serve themselves before taking his share.
“Hope should get the head of the table since she’s the hostess,” Rich said as he balanced his plate in one hand and pulled the chair out for his daughter.
“How about Delaney sits at the head. Mom and Dad, you two sit next to each other.” Leaving the seat to her right for Cameron.
They ate excitedly, commending Hope on her sweet potato pie and creamy mashed potatoes.
“I made the rolls,” Delaney chimed in.
His heart squeezed and he hid his grin. He had watched her open the cylinder tube and flatten out the crescent rolls before shaping them and putting them in the oven.
“They’re perfect.” Diane buttered one before biting into it.
He sipped on his ginger ale and listened to Delaney talk about her upcoming performance in the Nutcracker.
So this was what a family meal was supposed to be like.
He’d never experienced one before. When he was a kid, he and Justin ate at the counter while Jo, their cook, served them from the stove. By the time he was Delaney’s age, he’d started testing his boundaries, not coming home to eat at all. Instead, he’d stay out late with his skateboard or bike, hanging out on the wrong side of the tracks.
The closest wrong side he could find was a good fifteen miles away. And even then the communities were too highbrow for his liking. The first time he swiped the keys to the ‘vette he’d been thirteen and had driven himself to Hartford on the prowl for a good time. No one noticed for a few weeks that he and the sports car had gone missing every night.
He’d come home and help himself to whatever he could find in the fridge and put himself to bed when he grew tired. If morning came too soon, he slept in and skipped school.
It wasn’t like he skipped family meals. They simply didn’t exist in his house. And on the holidays, when he and Justin were younger, they were forced to volunteer at a soup kitchen far from home on Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was good PR.
Thomas Smithfield’s attempt at being human was to support the shelters and food banks in Connecticut. There wasn’t a need for any in their area, so they’d pile in the Caddy and visit those in need, his father would put in air quotes. Cameron hated the fakeness in his parents even before he realized they were fake.
Serving those less fortunate on Thanksgiving didn’t bother him; it was the façade his parents put on making it look like they cared about anyone but themselves that pissed him off. By the time he and Justin were old enough to rebel against going—well, Cameron rebelled, Justin did whatever dear old Dad said to do—Thomas contributed with a check instead of his time.
A tax write-off. Even better.
And so it went on for years. Each Smithfield going his separate way. Never hers; Janice didn’t have a separate way. She went where Thomas told her to go. Justin always had a girlfriend’s house to go to for the holidays, which left Cameron to fend for himself.
The first time he had turkey on Thanksgiving was in prison surrounded by three hundred other criminals. Not exactly the memories he wanted to hold on to.
Today, however, was one day he’d never forget. He had a handful of those memories now. All involving Hope or Delaney in some way. Slowly the good times, the wonderful moments, were replacing the ugly in his life.
“Will you come to Portland next week to watch me dance?”
“Delaney, Cameron doesn’t—”
“I’d love to,” he interrupted Hope. “I’ve never seen the Nutcracker before. You may need to fill me in beforehand. It’s a ballet, right?”
Justin had attended the ballet with his parents many times, but even when he was younger, the rebel side of Cameron refused, calling it a sissy girly show that he wouldn’t be caught dead watching.
Not a fan of public arguments, Thomas never risked forcing Cameron to go.
“You’ve never seen it before?” Delaney gasped.
“I was a
n immature kid and teenager who didn’t appreciate such things. Now that I’m older and wiser, I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Why didn’t you go when you were an adult?”
“Honey, you don’t need to be so nosey. That’s rude.” Hope apologized to him with her eyes.
She did that a lot, covered for him, protected him, sheltered him from prying eyes. While he didn’t want to come clean at the Thanksgiving table, he hated that Hope felt the need to watch over him. It should be he who took care of her.
Call him a chauvinist, but he wanted to protect Hope. Only she didn’t need protecting from anyone. Except him. From the old him. And from his family.
“That’s okay. To tell you the truth.” He felt Hope stiffen next to him and he slid his hand on her thigh, giving her a gentle squeeze. “I haven’t had much fun over the past few years.” Hope’s hand covered his, and he squeezed her fingers. “I’ve been studying, taking classes, and working. It wasn’t until I came to Crystal Cove that I started to...appreciate the finer things in life.”
“Cool. Mom and I are staying in a hotel in Portland for the weekend. A bunch of the other girls and their families are staying too.”
“Honey, I’m sure Cameron doesn’t want to stay in a hotel with more than a dozen pre-teen girls for the weekend. If he’s able, he can drive down before one of your shows.” Hope caressed his hand under the table. “She’s in three of the five shows and is an understudy for the other two. They rotate the girls so they don’t get too tired. We’ll be in Portland all weekend. I’ll give you her schedule, if you’d like. The afternoon shows aren’t as hectic if you want to pick one of those.”
Not exactly the romantic weekend with Hope he’d wished for, but he’d take it.
“Well, since I’ve never seen the Nutcracker before it will probably take a few tries before I get it. I should probably hit up all of Delaney’s shows. If you don’t mind.” He winked at his beautiful niece and took pride in the wide smile she projected at him across the table.
Where There's Hope_A Well Paired Novel Page 19
