The doorbell rang.
“Who’s showing up at our door right now?” Jo groaned. “I told Vanessa eight o’clock for board games and pie.”
Felix, neck deep in the oven with the turkey, barely glanced over his shoulder at her. “Can you get it, cariño? I’ve got my hands full.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it, Tito!” she called as she jogged toward the front door. Tito watched her from his armchair with a twinkle in his eye. Through the window, Jo glimpsed a dark gray coupe in the driveway, a car she didn’t recognize. She put on what she hoped was a thankful-looking smile and yanked open the door.
“Aida!” she screamed, flinging herself into her best friend’s arms. “Beefcake!”
“Surprise! Happy Thanksgiving, Mojo,” Trey said, kissing her hair while Aida hugged her so tightly she could barely breathe.
Felix appeared in the doorway, laughing with delight. He sidled around Jo to greet Trey with a bear hug.
“Did you know about this?” she asked Felix without letting go of Aida.
“Of course I did,” he replied. “Now you know why I bought the bigger turkey. You really thought I liked leftover turkey sandwiches that much?”
“How was I supposed to know?”
“Are we allowed to come in,” Trey interjected, “or do we have to eat dinner on the porch?”
“It’s my house,” Tito said from his chair. “Get in here.”
They all piled into the living room. Leni meandered out of the kitchen, waving, licking the potato masher, and introducing herself all at once. A loud yowl grabbed Jo’s attention, and she turned to find Merry scampering up the hallway.
“Were you in on this, Mer-bear?” Jo asked him. “Your friend Aida is here to see you.”
Merry meowed again and marched right up to Trey. Suddenly, Jo realized what Trey was holding. It wasn’t an overnight bag, like she’d thought. It was a cat carrier.
“Merry must smell his brother,” Trey said, setting the carrier down while Merry lost his goddamn mind—pawing, scratching, meowing to get at the brown tabby inside.
“What?” Jo breathed, barely daring to hope. Tears stung the backs of her eyes as she knelt down and saw a drowsy Pippin in the carrier. “Pip. Oh my God, Pippin.”
“We had Boo-boo sedated for the flight,” Aida said. “He should be fully awake in about an hour.”
Jo unzipped the carrier and reached in to let Pippin sniff her hand. He sleepily nuzzled his striped face against her knuckles. Merry weaseled his way around her and groomed Pippin’s ears, purring his little heart out. “How?” she asked, unable to tear her gaze from them.
“You think I don’t online stalk that asshole from fake accounts to make sure he’s miserable?” Aida said, crossing her arms defiantly.
Jo laughed. There was a tiny twinge in her stomach at the mention of Jeremy, a twinge that hadn’t fully gone away. But there was none of the old embarrassment or shame that used to come with it. He was fully in her past, long gone from the rearview mirror. Now that Pippin was back where he belonged, she would have no reason to think of her ex at all.
“I saw that he was selling Boo-boo, because he’s an assho—” Aida winced in Tito’s direction. “Sorry, sir.”
“What the fuck you calling me ‘sir’ for?” he retorted. “I’m Tito.”
Aida’s story was put on hold while Felix made proper introductions. Jo had eyes only for Pippin—and Merry, who had fully wedged himself into the carrier. When Aida got back around to the story of Pippin’s rescue, she wove a dramatic tale of recruiting David’s help, since Jeremy had never met him, and offering enough money for the cat that Jeremy wouldn’t be tempted to sell him to anyone else.
“It’s a Thanksgiving miracle!” cried Leni, potato masher aloft.
Felix crouched next to Jo and laid a gentle hand on her back. “Go get them settled, cariño. I’ll take care of everything out here. Dinner will keep.”
Jo took her time with her boys. She brought them into the main bedroom she and Felix now shared. He had surprised her when she moved in, asking if she would be okay sleeping in there rather than the guest bedroom. She was, of course, and being with him in the larger room made the whole place feel more like home.
She carefully transferred Pippin onto a nest of blankets that smelled like the two of them. Merry made himself into a cat loaf alongside his brother. As Pip began to purr, Jo pressed her face into the thick fur on his neck.
“I’m so glad you’re home, Pipsy. I’ll check on you soon, okay?” She kissed his head, then Merry’s, and closed the door on her way out so Pippin could acclimate to the new space.
In the living room, Felix had gotten everyone started with wine. He, Leni, and Aida were standing in front of the crackling fireplace, talking about Monsters and Mythology spells that could be used for cooking in increasingly elaborate ways. Trey lounged in the armchair next to Tito’s, ankle crossed over knee. He had a soft, nostalgic grin on his face as Tito told the story of his and Lita’s first Thanksgiving in America in 1955. Jo could tell by Tito’s hand gestures that he had reached the part about how small their turkey was because they were so poor.
Jo caught Felix’s eye and gestured toward the kitchen. He excused himself and followed her around the corner.
“How are the kitties?” he asked. “And do you want red or white?”
“White,” she said. “They’re good. Merry’s in protective brother mode, and Pip’s awake enough to purr.”
He handed her a glass of wine. “I’m glad. Need my help with something?”
“Yeah,” Jo said. “Come here.” She moved closer, and he opened his arms as she fell against him. She snaked one arm around his waist and sipped her wine, then rested her cheek against his chest.
“You okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured. “I wanted a moment alone with you before the chaos.”
Felix kissed her forehead and squeezed her tighter. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited Aida and Trey to stay with us this weekend. I wanted our first Thanksgiving here, together, to be memorable, especially since we’ll be in California for Christmas.”
“Good thing we have a guest room, then,” she teased, even as a wave of affection filled her.
She already had so many wonderful memories from the last few months, and she loved Felix for wanting to create even more. She remembered Tuesday evenings over the summer, watching MnM night grow into the premier weekly event at Ashville Public Library. It was so successful that Warren made game night a permanent fixture, not just a summer event. These days there were at least three tables each week, with locals and folks from as far as Wichita coming together to roll dice and tell stories. Jo was there every single week, taking her turn once a month as one of several rotating GMs.
