The room grows quiet. The color slowly comes back to her face, and her palms return to normal. Kissing the top of her head, I return to my chair.
Hadley sits too, watching me with a worried expression. When her hand hits my thigh, I don’t think about it. My hand goes to hers and laces our fingers together. She stills next to me before working her fingers deeper into mine.
My heartbeat settles, and I get comfortable in my seat. Hadley gives me a gentle squeeze, bumping her shoulder with mine.
“This might not be the right time for this,” Peck says, “but Machlan stole my chicken leg.”
The table erupts in laughter—everyone but me.
“You know they’re my favorite,” I point out.
“Yeah, well, if you weren’t making goo-goo eyes at Hadley, then you could’ve gotten it yourself.”
“I did get it myself.” I lift the leg and take a big bite of it. “Damn, that’s good.”
“Don’t taunt him, Machlan,” Nana says. She fans her face with her hand. “I think I’m getting too old to fry chicken. I’m pooped.”
“Then who will cook for us?” Lance whines.
“Um, you have a girlfriend,” I point out.
“Yeah because Nana won’t let us elope.” Lance takes a bite of mashed potatoes. “I really wish you’d reconsider.”
“I really wish you’d stop talking nonsense,” Nana tells him.
“You know what you need?” Lance asks.
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“You need a day to teach our girls how to cook like you. You know, just in case you get too old to fry chicken.” Lance makes a face. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud. You can’t forget how to fry chicken, right? Like, that’s not a thing.”
“Can we not talk about this?” I ask.
Hadley tries to pull her hand away, but I tighten my hold.
“You need a day with Mariah and Sienna and Hadley and I’d say Blaire, but that’s a joke,” Lance says. “She’d read you a legal brief while you fixed food.”
“I’d actually like that,” Nana says. “Not a bad idea.”
“I like this idea too,” Peck says. “It’s like having backup Nanas. I have a fear of starving, you know.”
“Would you be interested in that, Hadley?” Nana asks.
Hadley fidgets in her seat. “Um, yeah. Of course. I just, you know, don’t want to intrude.”
“I love how we pretend Machlan and Hadley aren’t together,” Lance says.
“Shut up, Lance,” I say.
“What?” He takes another bite of potatoes. “When’s the last time you had a girl over here? Never. You two need to get over yourselves and—”
“You wanna do this?” I ask. “You wanna put her on the spot like this?”
“Machlan …” Hadley touches my bicep.
“Looks like I put you on the spot, if you ask me,” Lance says, wiping his hands on a napkin as if I’m not threatening to kill him. “I’m sorry, Had, if I made you uncomfortable.”
“That’s okay,” Hadley says. “You didn’t.”
Rattling my teeth as I bite them together, I give my brother a final warning glare. Hadley pats my arm again.
“It’s fine,” she whispers.
Nana laughs out of nowhere. “Do you remember when I had you help me make macaroni and cheese on that Christmas Eve, Hadley?” Nana smiles fondly. “You forgot to add the macaroni and boiled all the water right out of that pot.”
“Not a good sign for the future,” Lance says, winking at me.
“Fuck off.”
Nana smacks my hand. “Don’t do anything to him in my house.”
“Oh, but he can kill me as long as it’s not in here?” Lance asks.
“Oh my God. Nana just authorized Lance’s death.” Peck gasps.
“I did no such thing.” She laughs. “Lance is a smart boy. If he wants to push Machlan, he knows there will be a pushback.” She turns to Hadley. “You let me know when you’re free, and we’ll have an afternoon together,” Nana says.
“Okay,” Hadley says.
“It’ll be fun. Mariah is a pretty good cook now, and Sienna is catching on. She usually gets frustrated and wants to cater everything. But between the three of you, maybe I’ll turn over Thanksgiving and see how you girls do.”
Hadley stares at her chicken as though it’s the most interesting thing in the world. She pulls her hand away again, and this time, I let her.
I think about Thanksgiving and how we all pile in here for the day. We watch football, eat all fucking day, and then, before we go home, we get out Nana’s Christmas decorations. It’s my favorite holiday, and I look forward to it all year. But as I look at Hadley and realize she won’t be here, Thanksgiving doesn’t seem that exciting.
“You know,” Nana says, “I always wanted a daughter. Got two boys instead, but I did want a girl. Someone to teach all my tips and tricks. Someone to give the little love notes that your granddad sent me when we were young.”
“You have Blaire,” Peck offers.