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His eyes dart over my shoulder.

“Yeah, he couldn’t stay,” I quickly explain. “Said he might head up to his cabin for some quiet time.”

“I’ll go up in a few days and check on him,” Pops decides.

After settling my father with a beer on the couch with Rick and Eduardo to watch the football game, I return to the kitchen, where Theresa is already mashing my potatoes.

“Please don’t exert yourself,” I plead, but I already know it’s going to fall on deaf ears. The woman simply can’t sit still.

“This is no effort,” she assures me. “But that turkey you’ve got in the oven is too big for me to handle, and it needs basting one more time.”

It’s crystal clear who rules the kitchen, and it isn’t me, even when the kitchen in question belongs to me. I don’t mind, she’s welcome to rule the kitchen when she’s here.

I feel a tingling at the back of my neck and glance over at Rick, who has his eyes on me instead of the football game. He winks and flashes me a grin. I shoot him a smile back before I turn my attention to the big bird in my oven.

Jason Mancuso shows up just as I’m giving the guys a half hour warning to dinner. After introductions, he joins the guys to watch the final quarter of the game, while Theresa and I put the finishing touches on dinner and set the table for six.

“Come and get it,” I call out, lifting the towel and tinfoil I put on the turkey to let it rest. “Rick, can you carry this bird to the table? You guys can fight over who gets to cut it.”

As I anticipated, Pops wins that one and is already expertly carving perfect slices by the time Theresa and I set the final dishes on the table and sit down.

“Beautiful spread, ladies,” Eduardo says with a smile.

He’s a nice man and clearly dotes on Rick’s mother.

Jason raises his beer. “Cheers to the cooks, and the rest of us will do cleanup duty after.”

“Of course,” Eduardo agrees.

“That’s a given,” comes from Rick.

Pops is the only voice of dissent. “Speak for yourselves,” he grumbles. “I’m already contributing.”

Theresa starts laughing across from me just as the alert sounds for an approaching vehicle. Rick’s questioning eyes meet mine over the table, and I shrug my shoulders.

“I’ll get it. You guys dish up.”

I see her car pulling in beside Mancuso’s black SUV, but when after a moment no one gets out, I duck back inside to grab my coat.

“Who is it?” Rick inquires.

“You guys start, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Then I slip into my coat and close the front door behind me.

I find Julia with her head resting on her arms on the steering wheel. I’m not sure what’s going on, but she’s clearly distraught. When I try the passenger side door, I find it unlocked and stick my head inside.

“Hey.”

She doesn’t lift her head but rolls it sideways to look at me. No tears, but I’m pretty sure she was crying recently. I have a feeling something pretty significant happened.

“Hey,” she returns. “I wasn’t expecting a houseful.”

“It’s not that bad. Plenty of room for one more.”

“I don’t know.”

She sits up and stares straight out the front window.