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She put her hand on the handle beside his. “I’ve got it, Dad.”

He held on to it a second longer, then nodded and stepped back.

Nicole wished she could tell him to come on. She could picture him going through those doors, calling out to everybody, heading straight for the kitchen to see what her mother was making. He’d done it her whole life. But her mother was finally going to have all three of her children home, and Nicole couldn’t walk in with him and expect her to be okay with it.

Her father slipped his hands into his coat pockets. “Tell everybody I said happy Thanksgiving.”

“I will.”

“And tell Mama Gussie I’m going to miss her cooking.”

Mama Gussie had been feeding him since he was nineteen, when Nicole’s mother first brought him home for dinner. He’d grown up in foster care, bouncing from one house to the next, and there’d never been anybody else. No mother, no father, no brothers or sisters, no cousins coming in for the holidays. Her mother’s family was the only family he’d ever had. Today they were all inside, and he was going back to a hotel.

Nicole tried to smile. “I could bring you a plate.”

He looked back at her. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to.”

He nodded slowly. “I’d like that.”

She left the suitcase where it stood and went to him and hugged him. “I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, baby girl.” When she stepped away, his eyes were damp. “Go on,” he said. “Your mother’s waiting.”

Nicole picked up her bag and climbed the steps, taking her keys from her purse. Before she could unlock the door, her mother opened it.

“Oh, there’s my baby.” Her mother came toward her in a rust silk blouse tucked into dark jeans that hugged every curve she had, gold bangles on one wrist, her hair in big, glossy curls. Her makeup was flawless as always. People had always said Nicole looked like a younger version of her mother. Looking at her now, she’d happily take that.

Nicole let go of the suitcase and walked into her mother’s arms. For a few seconds, she just held on. “Hi, Mama.”

Her mother kissed her cheek and leaned back to look at her. “Let me see that face. Have you lost weight?”

“No.”

“You look too skinny.”

“I’m the same size I was when I left.”

“Mm-hmm. Well, go on and fix you a plate.”

Nicole laughed. “That was the plan.”

The hand resting on Nicole’s arm went still. Her mother was looking past her.

Nicole turned. Her father stood beside the G-Wagen with the driver’s door open. He was looking at her mother, and Nicole wondered how long it had been since he’d seen her this close.

Her mother’s shoulders went back. Nicole waited for her to say something, but her mother’s eyes filled instead, and she kept them on him like she was daring him to take one step. Two seconds ago she’d been fussing over Nicole’s weight.

He stayed where he was, leaning forward a little before he settled against the door. That morning, Nicole had heard him say how much he missed her. Now she wished she hadn’t, because she could hardly stand watching him look across the driveway at her mother, knowing he couldn’t come any closer.

Neither of them spoke.

When her mother turned back to Nicole, she was smiling, her chin lifted the way she did for photographs. “Come on, baby.” She reached for the suitcase. “Everybody’s waiting for you.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

By the time Coach blew the final whistle, Drew’s fingers were cold enough that he had to work them a few times before he could get his chin strap unsnapped. He pulled off his helmet and ran a hand over his damp hair, wishing he’d waited until he was inside. The wind felt good for about half a second before his scalp started freezing. He’d grown up playing football in the snow in Boston, so he knew what to expect when he took his helmet off with a wet head. Still did it, though.