“Hey,” Tyler said, gently patting my knee. “It’s going to be great.”

Travis rolled up his window, and then turned up the heat.

I fantasized about flicking the back of his ear and blaming it on Tyler.

“Are you nervous?” Abby asked, turning around to face me. She looked me directly in the eye, beautiful and confident. Her caramel hair was long and effortlessly beautiful, her gray eyes so intense anyone else would have squirmed under her stare. I wondered if it was because her husband was the most intimidating person I’d ever met, or that she had her own badassery to offer.

“No. Should I be?” I asked.

“I was a little nervous at my first Maddox Thanksgiving.”

Tyler punched the back of her seat. “That’s because you were pretending to still be with Travis.”

“Hey!” Travis said, reaching back to swat at his brother.

“Quit! Stop! Now!” Abby commanded. She reminded me of me at the barracks with twenty misbehaving boys.

“Oh, you weren’t together last year?” I asked. “I thought you were married this past March.”

“We were,” Travis said, a ridiculous grin on his face.

Abby smirked, inviting me to judge them. “We got in a huge fight—a lot of huge fights, actually—broke up, and then eloped to Vegas. We’re renewing our vows in St. Thomas in March on our anniversary.”

“Ellie’s coming to that, too,” Tyler said. “She’s my plus one.”

“We talked about it,” I said quickly. “I don’t think I’ve RSVP’d just yet.”

“Is that a camera?” Abby asked, looking down at the bag in my lap.

“It is.”

“So are you a professional photographer, or is that just to capture the Maddox family Thanksgiving shenanigans?”

“She’s the photographer for the magazine in Estes Park. She follows the local hotshots around—did a whole write-up.”

“I’d like to see your work,” Abby said. “We need a photographer for the wedding. What do you charge?”

“I don’t,” I said.

“You don’t charge?” Travis asked. “You’re hired!”

“She’s really good,” Tyler said.

“Now you have to come,” Abby said.

Tyler elbowed me, satisfied.

Abby narrowed her eyes at her brother-in-law. “How did you two meet?”

“At a party,” Tyler said, clearing his throat.

“What kind of party?”

“My party,” I said.

“So you live in Estes Park?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you graduate from there?”

“Abby, for fuck’s sake. What’s with the third degree?” Tyler asked.

“I’m just making conversation,” Abby said with a relaxed smile. She was very good at something. I just wasn’t sure what.

I lifted my chin. “My parents have a house there. I lived there until recently. Now I work at the magazine and have an apartment in Estes Park.”

“How did you end up at her parents’ house for a party, Tyler? Are they clients of yours?” Abby asked.

“Nope,” Tyler said, staring out the window.

Abby glanced over at Travis. “He’s lying.”

Tyler shot her a look.

“Okay, Pidge,” Travis said, amused. “Enough detective work for one day.”

“Is that what you do?” I asked. “Are you a cop?”

Everyone laughed but me.

“No,” Abby said. “I’m a college student. I tutor math a few nights a week.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Maybe you should look into that.”

Abby seemed pleased. “Did you hear that, Trav? I should be a cop.”

He kissed her hand again. “I don’t think I could handle that.”

“Me either,” Tyler said. He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “He gets a little crazy when it comes to her.”

“I know someone like that,” I said.

Tyler mulled over my words, and then smiled, clearly taking it as a compliment.

We pulled into the drive of a small house with a detached garage and a hideous red Dodge Intrepid in the drive. A round, older gentleman stepped outside with another muscled brother, the same buzz cut and inked arms as Travis and the twins.

“Trent?” I asked.

Tyler nodded.

When Travis parked the car, Tyler hopped out and knocked on the trunk until Travis popped it open. He dug out our backpacks and slung them over his shoulder.

“You pack lighter than me,” Abby said. “I’m impressed.”

I smiled, still unsure if she planned to be friend or foe.

“Come in, come in,” Mr. Maddox called to us.

Tyler bear-hugged his father and punched Trent in the arm before hugging him, too.

“Trent,” he said, shaking my hand.

“Ellie,” I replied. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“We’re so glad you decided to come,” Mr. Maddox said.

“I appreciate you having me, Mr. Maddox.”

He chuckled, flattening his palm over his belly like a pregnant woman fawning over her ripe baby bump. “It’s just Jim, kiddo. Come in out of the cold! We’ve had a mean cold snap this week.”

Trent held open the creaking screen door as we passed, and I stepped into their tiny home, the worn carpet and furniture an ode to the house from A Christmas Story. I half expected Ralphie to be standing at the top of the stairs in a pink bunny suit, and then smiled as I remembered watching that movie on numerous Thanksgiving evenings from my father’s lap, swaying as he belly laughed for over an hour.

I inhaled stale smoke and the smell of old carpet, feeling strangely at ease. We paused in the kitchen, watching a girl washing dishes at the sink dry her hands and reach her ink-covered arms for Tyler. He hugged her, and then she shook my hand. Her fingers were pruny from the sudsy water, but I could still make out the word baby doll across her knuckles. A diamond stud sparkled in her nose, and beneath the thick eyeliner, she was stunningly beautiful. Everything from her razored bob to her timid smile reminded me of Paige.

“This is Cami,” Trent said.

“Or Camille,” she said. “Whichever you prefer. Nice to meet you.”