The next few minutes were filled with unwrapping Reggie’s layers and then helping Harrison find the right place for Belle’s bed. Reggie chatted with Judy while Toby and Harrison set the table. Reggie admired the giant tree in the family room and the elegant garland on the stair banister.

“Professionally decorated,” Judy said with a shake of her head. “Toby and his father used to walk out into the woods and chop down a tree.”

“We’ll have a real tree upstairs next week,” Harrison said eagerly. “Then we all decorate it ourselves. I can’t wait!”

The doorbell rang, and Toby went to get the pizza. Judy retreated to her room. Reggie, Toby and Harrison sat at the kitchen table, with Belle lying in the corner.

“Today was fun,” Harrison said, taking a slice of pepperoni pizza. “We’re going to make a lot of hats.”

“We are,” Reggie said, going for the mushroom pizza. “It’s a good project. I’m glad you thought of it.”

The pizza was delicious but couldn’t distract from the surreal nature of the moment, she thought. Hard to believe that until a couple of weeks ago, she hadn’t thought of Toby in years, and yet here she was, in his home, eating dinner with him and his son.

His home appeared new, with expensive touches. He’d come a long way from the teenager who’d lived in what was then the poorer part of town. Back then his number one goal was not to be a drunk like his dad, but beyond that, he hadn’t had much direction. Obviously he’d found his way.

Twelve

Once they’d finished dinner and had put away the leftovers, the four of them went upstairs. Harrison showed Reggie and Belle his room, then begged his father to let him watch a movie with Belle. The Great Dane was all in when it came to lying on the sofa with her favorite boy. Reggie and Toby left them and went to his spacious office at the end of the hall.

“How many rooms are there?” Reggie asked as he put down the wine bottle and glasses he’d carried upstairs.

“The usual amount.”

She thought about what she’d seen downstairs. “Let me guess. Five bedrooms, a bonus room, a home office and possibly a basement.”

His appealing smile turned sheepish.

“That’s right. We have just over five thousand square feet.”

“Nice.”

This office had a big desk, built-in bookshelves and a comfortable-looking sofa against the far wall. Behind it were pictures—of Harrison from infant to now, and of Judy’s Hand Pies food trucks and a storefront she didn’t recognize.

He followed her gaze. “That was the first one,” he said. “I opened it in Austin.”

“You have an empire.”

“Of sorts.”

They took seats on the sofa, and he poured her a glass of wine. She took it and looked around.