Breathe Freely (The Breathe Series Book 3) by Michelle Scott

Author:Michelle Scott [Scott, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-10T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

◆◆◆

RYAN

“Don’t be nervous, babe,” I command, reaching over to grab one of Natalie’s hands. She’s been twisting them nervously for the past ten miles and it’s becoming a distraction.

She looks over at me before diverting her eyes out the passenger window. I hold her left hand in my right one, trying to calm her as I’m steering the Mustang with my opposite arm.

We’re about fifteen minutes away from my home. It’s Thanksgiving Day and the traffic is heavy. I couldn’t get away until this morning, having obligations with the football team through Wednesday evening. College football doesn’t stop for the holidays, something I had to get used to last year. We’re lucky to even get today and tomorrow off, but we actually had a bye this week, so no game.

As a result, I slept in and picked Grace up around noon, driving the two-hour distance to my house in our hometown. I only have these two days off. We will have practice again on Saturday to make up for the missed days this week, and to work off all the turkey and dressing I plan to eat today.

I imagine the Thanksgiving preparations are in full swing at my house. I can already smell the turkey and all the fixings, knowing what my house will look and smell like before ever entering the space. It’s been the same for the past nineteen – almost twenty – years of my life.

I should be the one nervous about bringing Natalie home. Afterall, my home is smaller than the guest quarters on her estate. But I’m not. I’ve always been content with what we have. It’s small – yes – but it’s homey. And it’s my home. My family. I’ll never be ashamed of that.

“Were your parents mad you were staying here and coming home with me?” I ask.

I know Natalie waited until the last possible moment to tell her parents she wasn’t meeting them in New York City. She didn’t want to give them an opportunity to say no to her new plans. But we haven’t talked about the details surrounding that conversation.

“They weren’t thrilled,” she admits. “But what’s new.”

I can hear the defeat in her voice.

“But they let you come,” I say, trying to inject some optimism into the conversation.

She nods. “I don’t think I gave them much choice.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I say, squeezing her hand. “My mom is psyched that you’re coming.”

I watch her smile out of the corner of my eye.

“That’s nice.”

“I want to prepare you for the craziness of my family,” I say as the miles continue to disappear and we edge closer to my parent’s home. “There will be a lot of people at my house. Lots of cousins and second cousins. Lots of screaming and chaos.”

Her smile grows bigger. “It sounds perfect.”

From what little Natalie has told me, it sounds like her Thanksgiving memories are the complete opposite. They have been notoriously small and intimate affairs. Cold is the word she used to describe the gatherings in the past.

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