She hugs me back tightly, and we don’t break apart until the sound of footsteps indicate someone has come into the kitchen. I look up, expecting to see Caroline, but instead meet Jace’s puzzled gaze.

“Everything okay in here?” he asks, glancing back and forth between his mother and me.

“Everything’s fine,” Ellen replies. “Tell you father the turkey’s done, so he should come in here to carve it.”

Jace looks to me again. I give him a quick smile to let him know I’m okay.

Caroline returns to the kitchen at the same time Patrick enters to carve the turkey. Suddenly, the kitchen is bustling with activity as the final dinner preparations are made and we all sit down at the long table to eat.

The room is filled with the chatter of lively conversations and a delicious blend of aromas as we all dig into the feast spread before us. I end up sitting between Jace and Caroline.

Jace is pulled into a recap of the football game with Mike and Jason, and I continue chatting with Caroline about London and my classes at Lincoln.

Dinner passes quickly, and then Mrs. Dawson carries over a few browned pies fresh from the oven.

“We aren’t having pumpkin pie this year?” Alden asks in confusion as pecan pies appear in front of us.

“Not for Thanksgiving. I have something else in mind for those two big ones these guys brought us.”

“They were obscenely large this year,” Caroline admits, laughing.

I lean toward Jace. “Did something happen to the pumpkins?” I whisper.

“You mean after their traumatic trip here?”

“Yes!”

Jace smiles at my distressed tone. “No, they’re fine.”

“Vivienne, do you want some?” Alden asks. I look over to see he’s holding out a small white plate with a generous slice of perfectly browned pie.

“Sure, thanks,” I reply, taking the plate of offered dessert.

Despite my full stomach, I sink my fork through the layer of hardened nuts and into the flaky crust. The nutty, sweet flavor explodes on my tongue as I sample the first bite.

As we eat dessert, the group conversation shifts to Jace’s draft prospects. Caroline’s husband joins the discussion for the first time.

“I talked to a couple of old college buddies last week,” he shares. “They both think Jace’ll go first round for sure. Of course, I’ve been saying that ever since he started playing. His group would always play before Jason’s, and even then I would tell Caroline he had something special.”

“Hear that, Jace?” Jason asks. “Better make my dad your publicist!”

Everyone laughs good-naturedly.

Later that night, Jace and I stand in the kitchen, putting dishes away after everyone’s dispersed.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I tell Jace as we stack the clean plates back in the cupboard.

He looks over at me. “Thanks for coming.”

We work in silence for a few more minutes.

“Does it ever bother you? How people here are always talking about you making it to the pros?” I wonder, thinking of the many times the topic has come up just over the course of the day.