So was she. “Do you mean like videos, photos, or panties in his condo? No.”
“Then what makes you think Bruce is a cheater?” Her mother sounded confused.
“Why don’t you tell them, Bruce?” Peyton returned her ex-fiancé’s stare.
“Tell them what?” His mendacious eyes were wide pools of innocence. “Honey, you’re starting to sound crazy.”
“I was crazy before. Now I’m thinking straight.” Peyton pulled the ring box from her pocket and crossed to Bruce. Taking his hand, she placed the box in his palm and wrapped his fingers around it. “I’ll decide who I’m going to marry. And I’ve decided it won’t be you.”
Peyton strode from the salon and made her way to her old bedroom. It had become her parents’ guest room when she’d moved out years before. She’d never felt so empowered. She was in charge now. She would live where she wanted to live, be who she wanted to be, love who s
he wanted to love. She couldn’t wait to return to Trinity Falls—and Darius.
Thanksgiving evening, Darius straightened his shoulders as the front door of Doreen Fever’s country-style home opened.
“You look like shit.” Ean stood on the other side of the door, concern in his olive eyes.
“Thanks.” Darius crossed the threshold as Ean stepped back, opening the door wider. In contrast to the brisk chill outside, the Fever home was comfortably warm.
Excited conversations and laughter almost drowned out the sound of the football game being played on television sets in various rooms around the house. Straight ahead, Darius recognized the neighbors gathered in Doreen’s living room. They exchanged smiles and nods as he waited for Ean to close and lock his mother’s front door. For years, the Fever family’s open house was a popular way to spend Thanksgiving evening. It offered great company and even better desserts.
“It was that bad?” After putting away Darius’s coat, Ean led him farther into the home Darius knew as well as his own. Their lifelong friendship allowed the men to converse in comfortable shorthand.
“I should have gone to Florida with Quincy and Ramona to spend Thanksgiving with Q’s parents.” Darius nodded at a few more people as he wound his way toward Doreen’s kitchen. The air was rich with the scent of confectioners’ sugar, chocolate, cinnamon, and other spices. “He sent me a text this afternoon.”
“I got one, too.” Ean spoke over his shoulder. “I wonder how he’s adjusting to Philadelphia. He didn’t seem that happy when he came home last week for Dr. Hartford’s retirement banquet.”
Darius followed Ean into the kitchen. “I’m concerned about him.”
“Quincy will be just fine.” Doreen stepped forward, offering Darius a plate with a healthy chunk of her famous Trinity Falls Fudge Walnut Brownie.
“Doreen, you’re a saint.” Darius took the plate and fork his friend’s mother handed him. Then he crossed to Ms. Helen seated at the kitchen table in a bulky green sweater and pale brown slacks. He kissed the elder’s cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving, Ms. Helen.”
“It’s good you came, Darius.” She squeezed his shoulder.
“It was bad?” Doreen’s brow knitted with concern.
Darius looked from Doreen to Alonzo beside her. Ean stood with Megan. Like her son, Doreen was referring to Darius’s first Thanksgiving with his separated parents. He had nothing to give them.
Darius sliced into the moist, soft pastry Doreen had served him. “Your brownie will make everything right again. You should offer the recipe to the U.S. State Department. It could bring about world peace.”
“All right, all right. I’ll let you change the subject.” Doreen shook her head with indulgent amusement. “I’m just glad you’re here. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it.”
“Wherever your desserts are, I won’t be far behind.” Darius swallowed a bite of brownie, letting the chocolate and sugar improve his mood.
Alonzo chuckled. “Thanks for the warning.”
The front doorbell rang again. Doreen and Alonzo excused themselves to answer it.
Megan hooked her arm through Ean’s and met Darius’s eyes. “The open house wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Ean grunted. “Except there’d be more pastries for everyone else.”
Darius gave Ean a grateful look for his attempt at humor, then addressed Megan. “How’s your first Thanksgiving without Ramona?”
Megan’s smile was warm. “It’s a little strange. But she’s happy and I’m thrilled for her. She keeps saying she can’t wait to join Quincy in Philadelphia.”
Ramona had sounded a little too enthusiastic when she’d made the comment during Dr. Hartford’s banquet. Had she been trying to convince herself or everyone else?