Twenty

Wilder

Mom called out that the meal was ready, and we headed to the dining room.

I had heard very little of what Scott had been saying. My head was having an internal battle over what I should do about what Oakley had heard me say. Should I apologize or let it go?

In the dining room, the long table was filled with food. The turkey was in the middle with fancy greenery and cranberries around it. That was new. Our turkey had never looked like it belonged in a magazine ad before. I had to admit, I liked it. This was turning out to be a great Thanksgiving for Sarah. Even the turkey was special.

I walked over to the chair I always sat in, and Porter took the seat at the head of the table.

Mom walked in with a casserole dish. “Scoot over the green beans, Wilder. I need room for the chicken crack casserole that Oakley helped me make.”

I did as told, and unable to help myself, I glanced back at the door, looking for Oakley to enter. Instead, Mrs. Jojo walked out with the turkey carving knife and handed it to Porter.

“Give Sarah a minute. We don’t want to start without her,” Jojo said to my stepfather.

“I’ll go check on her,” my mom said, then swung her eyes in my direction with a disapproving glance that confused the hell out of me.

What was I missing? Where were Sarah and Oakley?

“Is Sarah okay?” I asked, starting to stand up.

My mom paused at the door. “She’s just gone to wash her face. Oakley having to leave was hard on her.”

Oakley had to leave? Fuck!

“Why did Oakley have to leave?” I asked, walking around the table, feeling like a damn caged animal, unsure of where to go or what to do next.

“She had to get to Thanksgiving with her family,” my mother said, but she looked at me with an accusatory glare. “At least, that was what she said. But seeing as I have met that family and Oakley looked ready to burst into tears, I don’t believe her. Which leads me to point my finger at you, since Oakley was happy as a peach before your arrival.”

Mom was quick. Way too intuitive. She always had been. It was her gift in life.

“Damn it, boy. Did she hear you rattling off about her in the living room? I sure hope not. That girl is too sweet, and it hurts my ticker to think she might have heard that nonsense,” Porter said.

Mom’s hand sprang out and grabbed my bicep. “What did you say, Wilder Noah Jones?!” she demanded angrily.

“Ouch. She is using the middle name. You need to run, man,” Scott piped up, sounding amused.

“Nothing important,” I said, trying to pull free but without success. “Mom, I need to go check on Sarah. Oakley has upset her by leaving.”

My mom’s nails bit into my skin. “Son, you listen to me right now, and you listen good. Oakley isn’t at fault here. She has been wounded on a deep level. That family of hers is some of the worst sort. They don’t even talk about her as if she is a part of them. I witnessed it with my own eyes at the funeral back in August. It broke my heart for her then, and I didn’t even know her. But today, she walked into this house with that gorgeous smile, and she helped me cook, wash dishes, taught Sarah how to set a table properly—”

“Don’t forget, she decorated the turkey up so pretty that I had to take pictures to send to my daughter in Oklahoma,” Mrs. Jojo interrupted.

Mom nodded. “That too. She is absolutely as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. Then, you showed up, and she suddenly had to leave. The first I heard of it all day. You did something, and you’d better fix it. She’s exactly what Sarah needs. Sylvia was never a mother to that child, but I see now why Sarah is undamaged because of it. Oakley is the reason. She was the one to stand in the gap, and she filled it up so that Sarah had all she needed.” Mom jammed the tip of her finger into my chest. “And I won’t let you take that away from her. Now, go fix what you did and pray that girl has somewhere to go for Thanksgiving when she gets home because if she doesn’t, you’re not getting one bite of my dressing.”

Scott let out a low whistle, which I ignored.

Hearing my mom talk about Oakley was all I needed to push the rest of the jaded fog from the past away so that I could see her clearly. Mom was right. Oakley wasn’t the girl who had crushed me. She was a woman. A real damn good one. I just didn’t know what to do with that. How to handle it. Because if I let myself acknowledge that Oakley was everything Mom had just said, then my heart was in danger. Again.

By the only female in the world to ever bring me to my knees.

“Whatever he needs to do so we can start eating before I starve to death would really be appreciated,” Porter said loudly.

My mom stepped out of my way and waved a hand for me to go check on Sarah. I moved past her as the heavy weight on my chest just got worse.

“Go ahead and butter you a roll and eat it,” Mom told Porter.

“What about me?” Scott asked, sounding whiny as fuck.

“You too. And … and you too, uh … sweetie,” she replied.

Mom couldn’t remember Scott’s date’s name, yet she had just halted Thanksgiving and threatened me after praising the ground Oakley walked on.

No matter where she went, Oakley Jones stood out. She made an impression. And it wasn’t because of the way she looked. Mom was right, dammit.

Sarah appeared through the doorway with Belladonna glued to her side. Her red-rimmed eyes looked up at me. I’d not only hurt Oakley. I had hurt Sarah too. If I hadn’t lied and said that shit in the living room, then Oakley wouldn’t have left. Sarah wouldn’t be crying.

This was my fault. All of it.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I said, squatting down to her level. “It’s Thanksgiving. No tears.”

She sniffled, and then her mouth turned down in the saddest expression I’d ever fucking seen.

“Oaky left,” she said softly. “And I don’t know why. She said it was because she had to go to Gran and Pop’s, but I know she was lying to me. I’d heard her tell Daphne on the phone that Gran was still mad at her and she wasn’t welcome at their house.”

I took her hands in mine and held them tightly. “Maybe she had a date with that guy she’s seeing and didn’t want to tell you that was why she was leaving.” It wasn’t a lie.

He had asked her. I’d heard him over the damn security system, and then like a psycho stalker, I’d interrupted and told her she had plans. I didn’t listen to her conversation with him when we stopped talking. I had forced myself to close the app and walk away from it. Get some space from her. From the way she made me feel.

Sarah shook her head. “She doesn’t. He texted her again last night, asking if she was sure she couldn’t make it to Thanksgiving dinner tonight. Oaky told him she was positive. She would be here until late. But she’s not, and she has nowhere to go.”

Because of me. Fuck. I had to fix this. I wasn’t going to be able to eat any of the damn food and enjoy myself while I felt like the shithead I currently was.

“What if I go talk to her? She has to go by the house to get her things and drop off my Range Rover. I could go catch her there and get her to come back.”

Sarah’s eyes lit up. “You would go do that?” she asked hopefully.

“For you, I would do anything.”

She threw her arms around my neck. “Thank you, Daddy!”

I hugged her back, and Belladonna started barking. Damn dog was probably giving me her two cents too.