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"Comforting to know my misery was entertainment for the family." I climb down the ladder.

"Cheap entertainment, too. We didn't even need cable."

"Even better," I mutter.

He claps me on the shoulder. "For what it's worth, man, I'm happy for you. You've had a rough go of it. Glad it's finally shaking out right."

"Thanks."

He looks over my shoulder, and his grin widens. He murmurs, "There she is."

I turn.

Lainey's crossing the yard toward the main house with Charlie strapped to her chest in the sling.

Lorraine's trailing a step behind, holding a steaming mug.

Lainey's red hair's pulled back under a blue wool hat. Her cheeks are pink from the cold. She waves. "Morning."

I rush toward them. "Morning. Did you sleep good, Mrs. Cooper?"

She stops. "I did. And you?"

Well this is progress.

"I got enough," I state. Then ask Lainey, "Did you sleep?"

She nods. "Yeah. I feel like I got good rest. Got up at five and did an initial round with Two-Step and Renegade. Going to drop Charlie and Mama off and get back into it."

"Great." I lean down, peek through the blanket, and kiss Charlie's head. "Hey, baby girl. It's going to be your first Thanksgiving."

"Looks like you're going all out," Lorraine comments.

I chuckle. "Ma'am, this is nothing. Wait until next week when all the Christmas decor is up. We normally spend all weekend putting stuff up, but with the race tomorrow night, Mom thought it was best we get a head start."

She glances around in awe.

"It looks great. Although the Halloween decor was pretty amazing, too," Lainey adds.

I affirm, "Yeah. Mom doesn't do holidays small. And that means none of us do."

"Well, it all looks really nice," Lorraine notes.

"Glad you approve," I say and mean it. I need to get on her good side. The last thing I want is for my daughter's grandma not to like or trust me.

The wind picks up and a gust tears between us. I tuck the blanket back to protect Charlie. "Better get her inside."

Lainey and I exchange another glance, and they leave. I watch them disappear into the house and get back to decorating.

By midmorning, the operation is in full swing. Half the family strings lights while the other half hauls boxes of decorations out of storage. The kids seem to be underfoot everywhere I turn. Mom's got a folding table set up on the porch with hot cider and doughnuts. Dad's directing traffic on where the big inflatable Santa should go since the turkey is still up. Then a truck I don't recognize rolls up the drive and parks in front of the main house.

"Is that—" Mason starts, squinting toward the truck. "Sebastian?"

Wyatt and I climb off the roof.

I comment, "About time he showed up."

My brother steps out of the driver's seat. His wife, Georgia, climbs out the passenger side, waving. Sebastian leans in the back seat and pulls out their four-month-old, Knox.