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But seeing the strong, confident woman she was now, a woman with plenty of financial resources, a loving family, and even a second-chance romance with Harold, it was hard to understand why she’d hesitated to get to know her dying daughter. Why she’d wasted months she could have had with my mom.

She’s trying to make up for it now, I reminded myself. That’s why you’re here. And I was going to try to let my resentment go, too. My mom would want that.

I stopped at the card table to kiss Tilly on the cheek. “I’m heading to bed. Can I get you anything before I go?” I said in a low voice.

“If he’s slipping you the ace of spades, I’m calling bullshit,” Granny snapped. “Son, step away from the table right now and show me your hands.”

I stepped back and turned my hands back and forth like I was a dealer in Vegas. “All clear. Promise.”

“Mpfh,” Granny mumbled before frowning back at her hand.

“Besides,” I added, pretending to sneak a peek at Granny’s cards, “How could I slip it to her when it’s already in your hand?”

Irene tittered, and Granny let out a squawk of indignation until she realized I was teasing.

After Tilly laughed and shot me a wink, and my grandfather gave me an approving smile and a handshake, I left the room feeling a little happier. It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable with the Marians. Not at all. In fact, it was impossible to feel uncomfortable with people so kind and welcoming. I’d been around them in smaller groups several times since being reunited with my mother’s biological family, and I liked them a lot. It was the sheer quantity of people in the same place all talking over each other and demanding each other’s attention that got to me.

I did better one-on-one.

The large lodge was quieter outside of the TV room. I made my way upstairs to the main level, where I could hear the clink of dishes coming from the kitchen. I poked my head in and saw our host, Mikey, hard at work washing dishes.

“Can I help?” I offered, moving over to the counter where a dry towel lay next to a stack of wet plates.

“No need. You’re our guest here. I usually have help with this part, but the young lady we hired to help us out has a bad cold, and I don’t mind stepping in. Besides, it keeps me from worrying about Tiller while he’s playing.”

“Tiller’s your husband, right? The football player?” I asked, grabbing the towel and a plate despite his protests. I loved feeling useful.

Mikey brightened. He was a cute guy with a friendly demeanor and had been very welcoming to all of us so far. “Fiancé. He plays for the Houston Riggers. They’re in Los Angeles for a game tonight. He’s recovering from a hamstring strain, and I know he’s probably fine, but it’s better for me to stay busy and away from the television until I get the all clear. I can watch the game after I know he came through it okay.”

“Ginger—my, um… cousin—is a football fanatic. I think she would actually faint if she saw him in person.”

He chuckled. “Then we’ll have to keep an eye on her when he gets here tomorrow. They have a bye week this coming week, so he’ll be able to come spend a few days here.”

I joined him in his laughter. “Oh my god, she’s going to flip. My grandmother and her friends will probably flirt with him. They’re incorrigible.”

“I don’t mind as long as everyone knows he’s mine at the end of the day,” he said with the same quiet confidence my cousins had when talking about their relationships. For the briefest moment, I let myself imagine what that would feel like to have someone like that in my life.

“What about you? Are you dating anyone?”

Reality came crashing back. I shook my head and reached for another plate. “I don’t have much time for dating. My job is demanding and—” I hesitated. I usually didn’t share too much about my personal life with people I didn’t know well, but Mikey had been nothing but kind, so I continued. “My mom was sick for a long while, and I was helping to take care of her. She passed away over the summer.”

“Ah, man. That sucks. I’m sorry for your loss.” Mikey gave me a look of genuine sympathy.

“Thanks. I do sometimes wish I had time for dating. But don’t tell anyone in my family I said that. They’re notorious matchmakers, and the last thing I need is to be set up by my fifty closest family members.”

After I stacked the dry plate, Mikey handed me another. “My family is the opposite. They weren’t very supportive about my being gay, so their idea of setting me up involved lots and lots of women.”


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