Chapter 55

Shirley

The next two days seem to fly by as the team is busy working on their own necessary tasks. Even I barely remember to take a moment to eat as I stay glued to my computer, typing away furiously to do my part.

And I hardly see Keith. In fact, I only really saw him once and it was from behind as his back had been turned to me and he’d been on the phone. I’d made sure to soundlessly move into the next room so I wouldn’t disturb him.

When the morning of Thanksgiving arrives, I find myself waking up early and almost immediately leaving the house. I have a few errands to run for the day, including trying to see if the post office is open so I can redirect a few of Jean’s old packages that were apparently being held.

Warren doesn’t seem too bothered to be working on the holiday as he drives me anywhere I need to go. However, I also try to sweeten him up more when I bring him back a delicious coffee and scone. By the time I’m finally done, it’s close to five o’clock and I’m in desperate need of a warm shower.

So when Warren drops me back off at Keith’s, that’s exactly what I do. I head right to my room, nearly smiling at the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen before I lock myself away. From there, I go to the bathroom and immediately start up the shower.

Once I’m clean and feeling like myself again, I get dressed in a simple black dress. Keith and I hadn’t agreed on any dress code, but I figure it would be good to wear something a little nicer rather than coming out in another nightgown or just jeans and t-shirt.

Finally, when it’s ten minutes until seven, I walk out of my room, giving myself a pep talk and firm reminders to be well-mannered throughout the evening. But now the scent of food is even stronger as I draw closer, gaining my attention as I scent roasted turkey, spiced gravy, and even hints of sweetness from a baking pie. It draws me to the kitchen whether I like it or not, leaving me to sigh just before I spot Keith.

Again, his back is to me as he sets down what appears to be the last plate on the table - a perfect mound of mashed potatoes. But - like always - he then seems to sense me, causing him to turn.

He pauses as we lock eyes, but simultaneously we both seem to take in the others’ attire - his gaze sweeping over my dress as I take in his slacks and collared shirt. Apparently we both had similar ideas.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” I say to him as our stares meet again, mainly because it seems like the only thing to say.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Keith eventually responds.

I then walk further into the room, coming closer to the table so I can take in the spread up close.

“Wow,” I say as I stop. “Thank you for cooking. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help.”

“That’s okay,” Keith says. “I wouldn’t have let you help anyway.”

His honesty almost makes me laugh, but I only manage a hint of a smile before he gestures for me to take a seat. So I take it, doing my best to appear unbothered as he reaches over me to fill my wine glass. It becomes more difficult when his scent overpowers the food, but thankfully he’s soon stepping away and allowing me to relax.

“Help yourself,” Keith tells me as he takes his seat. I humor him by reaching for the mashed potatoes first, putting them on my plate before I pass them over to him.

“You really did this all on your own?” I ask, filling the silence.

“I did,” Keith says with a nod as he puts more food on his plate.

“Who taught you to cook?” I ask, noticing how perfectly the meat is prepared as I take some.

“My mother,” Keith replies, taking that plate from me too. “She enjoyed cooking at night and since we were both night owls - that’s how we spent time together.”

Now I’m enjoying a secret smile as I stab my fork into my turkey, picturing Keith and his mother in the kitchen as I nearly squirm at the wonderful taste.

“She taught you well,” I comment then.

In turn, Keith gives a satisfied hum.

For a few minutes, there’s only the sounds of our forks and knives as we eat. I can’t help but wonder if maybe he’s trying not to think about the other night too, if he’s trying to keep things perfectly normal. But my thoughts disappear just as I take a sip of my wine and the sound of rain hitting the window causes us both to turn.

“Do you think it will turn into snow?” the question slips from my lips and I have no idea where it came from.

“Not yet,” Keith tells me, causing me to look back toward him. “We probably won’t expect snow for another few weeks.”

I give a nod at that, feeling oddly disappointed as I give one last glance toward the window, but then I go back to my food.

“I’ve been wondering,” Keith begins then. “For someone who seems so interested in the snow…why do you live in the west?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, swallowing another bite.

“Well, it doesn’t snow there,” he explains. “So why would you choose to live in a place where you can’t experience the snow…if you love it so much?”

His question catches me off guard. Partially because it was a little out of left field, but also because I’d never told him I loved the snow. But the thing is…I do love the snow.

However, I try not to linger on the thought for long as I remember he’s waiting on my reply.

I shrug. “I don’t know…I moved there for a job, settled in, and I guess I was just so busy I never thought about going somewhere else.”

That’s pretty much the truth. However, it wasn’t work that had originally brought me west. In reality, Jean and I had both headed that way when we hit seventeen and my dad gave me an ultimatum a year early. He’d offered me money for that ticket…so I took it and I never looked back.

“I get it,” Keith says before I can slip further into my thoughts. “Your life is dedicated to your work.”

I nod. “Pretty much. I don’t really have time to think of anything else, but I like it that way. I like work.”

Keith hums again in response, even shows a little smile. “Hence why you’re here and not at home for Thanksgiving,” he muses, taking a sip of his wine.

But I don’t let him only poke at me as I lift my chin. “And hence why you’re also here and not off in England with your parents.”

Again, Keith shows a hint of smile, causing my skin to buzz as he nods. “Touché,” he states.

“Do you want to travel?” I ask then. “Someday?”

“Someday,” he replies, agreeing with the last part. “Someday I might be able to find time away…once the pack is in a better place.”

Right. It can’t be easy being the Alpha where all your time and attention essentially belongs to the pack. But Keith doesn’t seem to mind it. In fact, he handles it well and honors his position better than most Alpha’s I’ve seen. Maybe even my own - though I’d never admit that aloud. But still, I let some of my appreciation slide out.

“You’re an amazing Alpha, Keith,” I say then. “Really…your devotion to your pack is admirable and I know that these wolves more than respect you.”

I can see my words hit Keith, noticing how he pauses and stares at me as his fork doesn’t quite make it to his mouth. Instead, he lowers it again as he stares at me, blinking as if waking up from a dream.

I almost feel embarrassed about my comment then, thinking I should dismiss it. But then Keith clears his throat.

“They’re my family,” he states.

And that’s all he had to say. All he has to say before I nod, showing him that I understand as much as I can.

“Well then,” I begin, grabbing my glass as I raise it to him. “To the Lock Heart pack. May your future be bright and calm so that their Alpha can finally take a vacation.”

I smile as the words leave me, enjoying my own words. And I only relish in them more as Keith actually offers a breathy laugh, smiling as he takes his own glass and begins to raise it.

And as our glasses lean toward one another, I begin to feel the last few days melt away - as if the glass clinking will officially dismiss the incident in the car that I’d nearly forgotten about already. But then again….the toast almost feels like something else beginning.

Or maybe it would have. If we had ever officially reached one another, if Keith had voiced the words I could see about to fall out of his mouth.

But we never finish our toast and I never figure out what Keith is going to say. Because we both fall silent as the front door opens and two voices carry down the hall. Only, after a few minutes, it’s only one face that enters the dining room, causing Keith to stand as one word escapes him.

“Mom.”