"Us coming here was enough of a battle. Never mind breaking away Conor too."
Mom winced. "Lena wasn't happy about you coming to us for Thanksgiving?"
"Not really," he said lightly. "But she was being selfish."
"That's harsh." Dad took another sip of beer.
"No, it isn't. Savannah has family too. They matter to her, as much as my family does to me, and we have to compromise."
"That's so kind of you, Aidan," Mom said, her smile almost beaming from her. "I wasn't sure if we'd lost Savannah for the holidays, in all honesty."
"No. I wouldn't do that."
"Maybe, sometimes, we could go to our estate in New York?" I suggested. "Aidan could have the best of both worlds. We could drop in with his mom for breakfast and then have a meal in the evening together."
Dad surprised me by nodding. "It's funny you should say that, but I was looking at real estate close to your place."
"You were?" I asked, loading stuffing onto my fork. "Why?"
"To be nearer to you, silly," Mom teased.
"Really?" I knew my eyes were wide. "I'd love that. We're not spending that much time there right now though. We're mostly in the city for Aidan's work."
"Speaking of, did you finish that interview with Grainne Ledger?" Camden queried.
"I did. It was awesome, if I do say so myself."
Camden chuckled. "Your ego, Savannah, is bigger than mine."
"Yours is larger than Texas, so I don't think you can judge me for having an ego the size of Connecticut."
"It’s a well-rounded piece."
"You read it, Aidan?" Dad asked, lifting his brows. "Savvie never lets us see pieces before they go live."
Aidan smiled. "I only read it this morning."
"So I couldn’t tweak it. I was nervous. It's the first time in a long while that I'm writing about non-Sparrow stuff," I admitted after I took another bite of Mom’s yams.
"Are you not going to write about the Sparrows anymore?" Dad asked as he loaded his plate with green bean casserole.
"Just for the moment." Aidan and I glanced at one another. "Until Star gets back."
Mom huffed. "Ifshe gets back."
"Don't start, Mom." Aspen surprised me by stating, "You don't know what she's been through to get to where she is today. Just because you think she's a bitch for walking out and forging her own path doesn't mean she is. It means she did what she had to to survive."
I reached for my glass of water. "I didn't think you even liked her."
"I don't. But I don't have to. You like her, and you wouldn't like her if she was a bitch."
"Didn't know you valued my opinion so much," I admitted.
"Only where it matters," she said pointedly before she scooped up some food onto her fork and ate.
She was doing that thing people with eating disorders did so it looked as if they were eating.
Each forkful was minute, and she moved half her food around the plate.