A BEECHWOOD HARBOR THANKSGIVING

“What do you think, plastic pumpkins or ceramic turkeys?”

Another rainy Sunday. Another age old debate.

I turned away from the front window to face Cassie as she maneuvered a large, plastic storage tub through the archway from the back room of Siren’s Song. “Ceramic turkeys?” I said, unsure I’d heard her right.

“I’m not even kidding,” she replied, setting the box on the counter beside the cash register. The lid was marked with a black permanent marker and read: Thanksgiving Decorations. Extra points for Peg’s keen attention to detail. Although it did surprise me that she’d kept such an assortment of seasonal holiday decorations. She’d never struck me as a particularly celebratory kind of person.

Cassie peeled the lid off and set it on the floor. “Like I said…”

I peered inside the box and immediately burst into laughter. A collection of six ceramic turkeys were laid out over a layer of white felt, presumably to keep them from breaking. Each turkey was holding a different instrument. One had a flute, the next a saxophone, one sat perched behind a drum set. “These are the kinds of things I see in a store and wonder who in their right mind would ever buy them. I guess, now I know.”

Cassie laughed, shaking her head as she stared down at the comical figurines. “They’re both amazing and tragic.”

“As lovely as these are … I don’t think they quite set the mood I’m going for.”

“Are you sure?” Cassie said, lifting the drumming turkey from the box. She flipped it around to face me. “Cause I think he’d look great on the table next to the cranberry sauce.”

I laughed and batted a hand at the turkey. She giggled and set it aside. “All right, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Cassie took the rest of the set from the box, carefully setting each one on the counter before digging under the felt to reveal a collection of gourds and pumpkins. They were startlingly realistic looking, considering they were made out of plastic. She picked up a small, glossy pumpkin. “What about these? I was kind of thinking you could use them as a centerpiece. I think there’s a cornucopia in here too….”

“Wow. Are these hand-painted?” I gave her an approving nod and plucked up a shiny eggplant. “These are great! Are you sure I can borrow them?”

Cassie nodded before gesturing around the empty coffee shop. “We have plenty of stuff here already.” She was right. Each table had a silk flower arrangement in festive, autumn colors, and there were a trio of real pumpkins on the front counter beside a sign advertising the pumpkin-palooza of treats in the pastry case. “Not that there’s anyone to enjoy it…” she added with a sigh.

The coffee shop had been dead most of the day. Beechwood Harbor’s tourist season had come and gone and we’d settled back into our normal pace, which was usually still pretty busy, but it seemed that the gloomy Sunday weather had people hibernating at home. We’d been alone most of the afternoon, with only a handful of customers to keep us occupied. And even then, they’d all left as soon as their orders were filled, darting back to the safety of their cars to race home. So, to pass the time, we’d started talking about our Thanksgiving plans as it was rapidly approaching. When I’d mentioned that I was in charge of dinner at the manor, she’d insisted I take a look at the shop’s decoration stash to see if there was anything I’d like to borrow.

I picked up the turkey that was holding a guitar and smiled, wondering if I could enchant the merry little band of fowl and set them loose around the house. Boots would love chasing them around. And, for bonus points, they would drive Lacey nuts. I set the turkey back on the counter and looked over at Cassie as she continued her excavation of the box, still searching for the cornucopia. “What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving?”

She glanced up. “I’m not sure, really. I’ll probably cook for my dad and Kirra.”

“What about Chief Lincoln?” I asked, stubbornly refusing to call him Jeffery. It was just too weird.

Cassie paused her rummaging and twisted the end of her thick braid around her fingers. “I—uh—I’m not really sure.”

I planted a hand on my hip. “ You expect me to believe that you don’t know what your boyfriend is doing for Thanksgiving? Cass, what’s going on?”

She sighed and dropped the braid to her shoulder. “He hasn’t brought it up and I don’t want to be pushy or put expectations on things.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Expectations?”

“Spending the holidays together seems like a big step and I’m not really sure we’re there yet. That’s all.”

I nodded even though I wasn’t entirely sure I understood where she was coming from. Adam and I had only been dating for a few months but we were planning to spend the day together. Granted, we lived under the same roof, so it would actually be more awkward if we weren’t. But still… “Well I don’t think it would hurt to extend the invitation.”

Cassie muttered her reply as she turned away from unpacking the decorations box and moved to the espresso machine. As I started repacking the box, I paused with the drummer turkey in hand. I peeked at Cassie out of the corner of my eye. She had her back to me and a quirked smile crossed my lips. With a wiggle of my fingers, the ceramic bird came to life and immediately started drumming. Bang! Boom! Bop! I gasped at the sound of the drums—having not expected it to actually play—and hurried to stop the enchantment.

“What the heck was that?” Cassie asked, whipping around.

The turkey froze in place—although in a slightly different pose than before—right as Cassie scanned the counter.

“Oh, I was just tapping my toe.” I made a show of stomping the low heel of my boots. It sounded nothing like the animated turkey. “I like this song,” I said, gesturing up at the speaker overhead where an indiscernible tune was piping out.

Cassie frowned at my explanation, her eyebrows knit together, but she didn’t give the now-still turkey a second look and went back to making her drink. I heaved a silent sigh of relief once she was turned away. I smiled to myself at the musically-inclined turkey and slipped it into my purse.

“Hey, Cass,” I started. She turned her head, still working at steaming a stainless steel pitcher of milk. “What if I went all out and we did Thanksgiving at the manor and invite everyone. You, Kirra, your dad, Nick, and Chief Lincoln. That would take the pressure off and we could all have a fun day together.”

“Really?” Cassie asked, already looking visibly relieved. “That wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

“Not at all! I’m going to be cooking anyways. What’s a few more faces around the table?”

“That would be great, Holly. I’m sure my dad and Kirra would love to come. I’ll ask Jeffery tonight when he picks me up.”

As she finished making her drink, the bell on the front door tinkled and Nick strolled through the doors. He paused over the welcome mat to wipe off his boots and shake the rain from his dark hair. “Is it always like this here?” he asked with a scowl.

Cassie stifled a laugh and slid a lid over her cup. “Afraid so.”

He muttered a curse under his breath and made his way to the counter. “How much longer?”

“Till Spring,” she answered. “I have something that might help though.”

He dropped his eyes to the large cup in her hands. “Is it packed full of caffeine and chocolate?”

She laughed. “This one’s mine, but I’m pretty sure Holly can hook you up with one for yourself. I was going to grab you a couple of those white macadamia nut cookies you like. Penny, from the bakery, just dropped some off this morning. You’ll get first dibs!”

“Better put them in a Ziploc bag,” Nick said as Cassie disappeared into the back room.

I smiled and hurried to start whipping up Nick’s signature mocha. “Besides the monsoon, how’s it going?”

He grunted and I rolled my eyes. Mr Tough-guy-private-eye could be a real wussy from time to time. As a Southern California transplant he wasn’t coping well with the somewhat treacherous Washington coast winter. But come on, it wasn’t like he was melting into a puddle.

Cassie returned with a stack of three cookies and he perked up. Cassie shot me a knowing glance and we both suppressed smiles. “Did Holly tell you about our Thanksgiving dinner?”

I glanced at her. “Our?”

Cassie smiled. “Come on, Holly. You know you’re not going to do all the cooking.”

I shrugged one shoulder. “I could…”

“Not if you want anyone else to eat it,” Nick quipped, his cheeks stuffed with cookie.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What would you even know about it? I’ve never cooked for you.”

He grinned and swallowed his bite. “I’ve heard the stories, that’s all I’ll say.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m gonna wring Adam’s neck.”

Cassie and Nick laughed as I stalked to the cash register.

****

Later that evening, over a steaming pizza, I filled Adam in on the change of plans. Predictably, he was mostly concerned with one thing…

“What kind of food are we having?”

I dropped my eyes to Boots—who had abandoned his cat food and was eying the edge of the table, his pink nose twitching at the swirl of steam as Adam wolfed down his third slice—and sighed. “You two are impossible. Have I mentioned that lately?”

Adam scoffed. “I’m just sayin’, the food is what really makes Thanksgiving. Sets it apart.”

I cocked my head. “And what, you don’t think I can hack it? I heard you’ve been spreading rumors around town that I’m a terrible chef.”

“Who said that?” he sputtered.

I folded my arms and leaned back against the chair. “Nick.”

“Oh.” Adam’s lips quirked. “I wasn’t complaining … necessarily….”

I tapped my fingers on the edge of the table. Waiting for his no-doubt colorful explanation.

“He just mentioned how often he sees up eating dinner at McNally’s,” Adam said with a shrug. “And I might have said that was because you have an allergy to cooking.”

“An allergy?” I shot him a dark look but couldn’t find an argument. He was right. I could whip up complex potions without batting an eye, but trying to figure out how to poach eggs or braise something was a complete mystery to me.

Adam reached over the table and grabbed my hand. “You might not be the best cook, but there’s no one else I’d rather go out to eat with.”

“At least I keep you from digging in the dumpster,” I said, giving him a sly, sideways grin.

“I’m gonna let that one go.”

“Good choice.”

He polished off another slice of pizza while Boots continued to circle around the table like a hungry shark. I was halfway tempted to hum the Jaws theme.

“Cassie said she’ll help me with the cooking. So you can rest assured it will be good.”

“What about the fanger?”

“Lacey?” I glanced at the kitchen door as though she might pop through it at the mention of her name. “I hadn’t really thought about inviting her, but I guess I should.”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up. “Invite her? Sure, cause that wouldn’t look odd at all. Her drinking that revolting fake blood and eying the dinner guests, probably wondering which one would make the sweetest dessert.”

“Adam!”

“Hey, I’m just saying….”

I rubbed my templed with my forefingers. It was a week away and I was already getting a headache. “All I need you to do is behave yourself and not rile her up.” A sigh slipped past my lips as I sagged back against my chair. “I knew I should have called Stacy…”

“Stacy?”

“My friend from the Seattle Haven. Anastasia Winters. She’s a professional party planner. Or—event coordinator—I think is the proper term. In any case, she would know how to keep a vampire from eating human dinner companions.”

Boots jumped up on my lap. I scratched him behind the ears. “Boots will keep Lacey in line as long as we promise to save him a turkey leg.”

“Nope, I got dibs on those,” Adam teased, reaching over to scratch Boots’ chin. “Sorry fluffbutt.”

****

Thanksgiving day arrived faster than I’d anticipated, but going into the day, I felt mostly prepared. However, that feeling evaporated as soon as I got into the kitchen and was smacked in the face by the sheer volume of work needed to prepare the feast for five humans, two witches, a shifter, and a vampiress. Especially daunting considering I’d been born without an ounce of cooking intuition in my body…

Luckily, the house was quiet as I started pulling things from the fridge and freezer, giving me time to organize my thoughts and rummage through Posy’s cookbook stash. The quiet didn’t last for long, half an hour into my preparation, Adam came waltzing into the kitchen, wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a black t-shirt. “Morning, gorgeous,” he said, stopping to plant a kiss on my cheek before perusing the spread on the counter.

“You’re up early,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder for a long moment.

“I thought you might need a hand.”

I smiled up at him. “That’s sweet.”

“Where did this little guy come from?” Adam asked, plucking up the ceramic turkey from the corner of the counter.

“Oh, I borrowed him from the shop. I thought he needed a good home.”

Adam set the turkey down and rounded the counter. “What do we have for appetizers. If I’m going to help cook, I need fuel.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not even nine o’clock in the morning. It’s called toast and eggs.” Boots had apparently finished his breakfast as I’d gathered ingredients and began weaving between my legs as I consulted a cookbook. I nudged him away with my foot. “Bootsie, you had your breakfast. Don’t start your begging routine.”

Adam perused the contents of the counter and snatched up the loaf of fresh bakery bread before swiping a couple of eggs from the carton on his way to the stove. “Where’s Cassie? I figured she’d already be here.”

“She’s not coming until a little later. For now, I’m flying solo.”

Adam started making his breakfast and came back to join my once the sound of butter sizzling in a hot pan filled the kitchen. “Well let me know what you need. You want some eggs?”

Boots rammed his head into my leg and yowled.

“What I want is for the butterball to leave me alone so I don’t break an ankle.” Boots looked up at me and blinked, clearly not taking the hint. I scoffed and pushed him away again. “Honestly … I haven’t even started the turkey yet. What do you want, cat?”

He meowed.

“Oh, good. That clears that right up.” I reached for the carton of milk and spotted the perfect distraction for the begging cat. “Hey Bootsie, you want a turkey?” I waved my fingers around the drumming turkey figurine as I crossed the kitchen and propped the door open. I set the turkey down on the hardwood floor and watched as it came to life. Boots pounced and the turkey sprinted off, banging out a frantic rhythm on the drum set as its little animated legs pumped to keep it ahead of the barreling tabby.

Evangeline came into the kitchen a moment later and I burst out laughing at the confused look on her face. She pointed in the direction she’d just come. “Was there a miniature turkey running down the hall? It looked like it was playing the drums…”

I snorted. “Just a little festive fun for Boots.”

Evangeline looked like she was about to ask me for the details, but then she blinked and gave a small shake of her head, dismissing the question. It was probably for the best. “How’s it going in here? You need a hand?”

I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye and looked at the spread of ingredients on the counter. “To be honest, this is about as far as I’ve gotten.”

Evangeline sneaked a peek up at the clock.

“I know! I know.” I sighed, all traces of humor gone. “Cassie’s coming soon. I think…”

“Do you know any cooking spells?” Evangeline asked, coming to the opposite side of the counter and consulting the raw bird in the sink.

I shook my head. “What can I say, I failed Witchy Home Ec class. No cooking or cleaning spells.”

“Maybe Posy can help. Where is she?”

“I haven’t seen her this morning.”

Evangeline took the cookbook from me and started flipping through the pages. As we consulted the antique book, Lacey stalked into the kitchen. I glanced up and cringed, preparing for her to rail about the noise Boots and his turkey wind-up toy were likely making. Then I realized she was fully dressed in a pair of soft charcoal-colored pants and an emerald green sweater. Her fair blonde hair was arranged in a low ponytail and she was even wearing make-up. Decidedly understated.

“Morning, everyone,” she said, glancing at each of us.

Evangeline and I nodded and said in unison, “Morning, Lacey.”

“You’re up early? Or … going to bed late?” Evangeline said, apparently just as surprised by Lacey’s attire as I was.

“I thought I’d stay awake today, for the dinner,” she said as she crossed the kitchen and went to the fridge. “Where is my blood?”

“Oh!” I jolted. “It’s there in that box of wine. I did a little … camouflage. You know, in case one of our guests opened the fridge. We’re having humans for dinner.”

Adam coughed loudly.

I squeezed my eyes closed. “Not for dinner! I meant—”

Lacey shot me a silencing look. “I know what you meant.” She yanked the box from the fridge and placed it on the counter while she retrieved her usual crystal goblet from the cabinet. “And what if one of your precious mortal friends decides they like the look of this wine? Although,” she sneered, turning up her nose at the bland label, “I doubt they would.”

I sighed. “It’s enchanted so it won’t dispense anything except to you.”

Evangeline lifted her brows. “Clever.”

My smile returned. “Thanks.”

Lacey scoffed and filled her goblet. “In the future, Holly, don’t tamper with my food supply or I’ll be forced to turn your cat into a substitute.”

“Lacey…” Adam said, his voice a low, warning growl.

She shrugged and gave a lazy swirl to the thick contents of her crystal goblet before bringing it to her lips and drinking deeply. The contents left her lips a shocking shade of red, even after she delicately licked away the residue.

I drew a deep breath in through my nose, forcing myself to keep it together. “Are you staying for the dinner?” I asked.

Lacey shrugged as she leaned against the counter. “I don’t have any other plans.”

I cocked my head slightly and considered her. If I didn’t know better, I would have said she was asking for an invitation. Something about her expression softened me and I offered her a smile. “We would love to have you.”

Adam shot me a look but I ignored him.

“Okay,” she said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Adam sputtered, nearly chocking on his toast as he watched the scene from his place at the stove.

“Do you know how to cook?” I asked, trying to hide my surprise.

She pushed away from the counter and polished off the contents of her goblet. “Before I … died … I was pretty good at it.”

Evangeline smiled. “That’s great! I’ve never cooked a Thanksgiving meal before. Back in the LA Haven, I don’t think I even cooked scrambled eggs.” She frowned, as though trying to remember.

I laughed under my breath, marveling at the collection of us standing around the kitchen. A shifter with an appetite bigger than a sumo wrestler in training, a beauty queen vampiress who apparently had a secret talent as a cook, a once-spoiled movie star witch who was probably nicer than the rest of us combined, and myself, a witch with more scrap than common sense it seemed. We were quite the band of merry misfits.

“Does anyone know where Posy is?” I asked, remembering that we were missing one of our key members.

No one had seen her, but I didn’t have too long to worry about it, as we all dove into the task of prepping and cooking. Adam even got in on the action, although I suspected that was more so he could sneak bits of food along the way. Lacey and Adam even complimented each other on two occasions.

The hours ticked by and by the time Cassie texted to let me know she was on the way, we already had a good head start on everything. When the doorbell rang, I went for the kitchen door but stopped short. I spun on my heel and looked at Lacey and Evangeline. “Remember, play human.”

Lacey groaned. “We know!”

Evangeline smiled. “We’ll be good. We promise.”

I hesitated another moment, glancing between them, before going to the front door. I was surprised to find Posy standing there, peering out the windows that framed the manors stately double doors. “Posy! There you are,” I said, one hand reaching for the door knob. “We were hoping you’d join us in the—”

Boots skidded into the room and I realized he was still chasing the enchanted turkey. I wiggled my fingers and the turkey stopped cold, frozen back to the ceramic figurine.

“What on earth was that?” Posy asked, frowning at the decoration.

“Oh, it was nothing. Are you all right, Posy?”

The doorbell sounded for a second time and I was forced to tear my eyes away from studying Posy’s expression to open the door and welcome our guests. “Happy Thanksgiving!” Cassie said, crossing the threshold first. She gave me a quick embrace and pressed a bottle of wine into my hands. “I figured by now you’d need this.”

I laughed. “We’re actually doing okay. No tragic kitchen incidents.”

“Yet,” Adam said, coming up behind me.

Cassie flashed me a grin. “Hello, Adam! Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Cassie. Come on in.” He greeted Kirra and Mr. Frank as they came in and I went to work gathering their coats. “Now, Mr. Frank, please tell me you’re a football fan.”

Mr. Frank smiled at Adam. “Show me to the tube, son.”

“Right this way!”

Cassie, Kirra, and I all laughed as the two of them wandered off to the living room where Adam had the pre-game coverage fired up. “Guess we don’t have to worry about entertaining dad,” Kirra said to Cassie.

“Sorry we’re so late,” Cassie said to me as we started back through the manor to the kitchen. “Dad wasn’t having a good morning. His back was really bothering him and I wanted to wait until his pain meds kicked in.”

“No problem.” I steered them both into the kitchen. “I had help. You know Evangeline,” I started. Evangeline nodded and waggled her fingers. “And this is Lacey Vaughn.”

Lacey smiled—thankfully, keeping her fangs concealed—and gave each woman a nod. “Nice to meet you. Holly talks about you all … endlessly.”

I rolled my eyes and bit back a sharp reply. “Anyways, we have the turkey in the oven, the potatoes are boiling. The pies are cooling and I think Lacey was working on the green bean casserole.”

Cassie and Kirra both dove into work and I excused myself to double back and find Posy, praying that Lacey kept her fangs hidden and that Evangeline remembered that magic was a no-go for the next few hours. Posy wasn’t in the foyer and I searched the study and the upper floor but couldn’t track her down.

Eventually, I gave up and went back to the kitchen, but she wasn’t there either.

“Everything okay?” Evangeline asked as I rejoined her at the stove.

“Posy’s missing,” I said, keeping my voice quiet.

“Oh?”

“I just saw her out in the foyer and now she’s…” my voice trailed off as I spotted Posy’s silvery form out in the backyard. With the cloudy sky making it appear later than it was, it was hard to make her ghostly form out, but the flash of movement caught my eye. Evangeline followed my stare. “Something’s wrong. I’m going to go see what I can do.” I looked at Evangeline. “You good here?”

“Yeah. We got it under control. Go.”

I glanced at the clock above the kitchen door. We had half an hour until dinner. I just needed an excuse to leave right in the final stretch of preparations. I glanced at the fridge and inspiration struck. I went to the fridge and pulled out a casserole dish that contained leftovers from dinner two nights before. The kitchen door swung open and Adam sauntered into the room, holding an empty plate.

His hungry eyes roved over the food spread out on the counter, waiting to be transferred to serving dishes. I grabbed Evangeline’s arm and she turned to face me. “You’re on turkey duty…” I said, jerking my chin in Adam’s direction. “If he starts making eyes at the food, feel free to smack him.”

Cassie and Kirra snickered as Evangeline nodded. “Got it,” she said, suppressing her own smile.

Boots crashed into my legs, meowing loudly. I glanced down at his wide, pleading eyes. “Him too.”

He squinted up at me before turning tail and stalking away to go stand with Adam. “They sure make a sad little pair, don’t they?” Evangeline said, still smiling as she looked over at Adam and Boots.

I flapped a hand in their general direction—it was safer than making eye contact and risk getting sucked into their pitiful puppy eyed expressions. “They’ll be fine. We’ll be eating in less than an hour.”

“Where are you even going?” Adam asked.

I held up the casserole dish in my hands. “I’m making a delivery.”

“Of a casserole?”

Yeesh, Adam, play along. “It’s for…”

“The neighbor lady,” Evangeline chimed in.

“Right. You know…” I cut a glance at Cassie and Kirra. “Mrs. Archibald.”

Adam squinted at me like I’d lost my mind but shrugged. “Okay…”

“I’ll be right back.”

Cassie cocked her head at me as she loaded hot rolls into a basket. “Why don’t you invite her over for dinner? We can set another place at the table.”

“Oh…” Right, because that would be the proper etiquette when handling imaginary neighbors.

“She hates people,” Evangeline said.

I blinked. “Right! She hates people. But you know … Thanksgiving and all…”

Cassie and Kirra exchanged a look but didn’t press the issue.

I hurried from the kitchen before I could dig myself any deeper and pulled open the front door to find Nick and Chief Lincoln on the front steps. “Oh! Holly, hey, we were just about to knock.”

“Quite the hostess,” Chief Lincoln commented.

“Right, well, come on in.” I stepped back and ushered them forward. I was losing time. Finding Posy in the forest behind the manor would prove difficult on a clear day. In the gloomy, grey afternoon, with a generous head start, I was going to be hard-pressed to catch up to her. “Happy Thanksgiving. Be right back!”

I rushed down the steps, leaving the front door open, for Nick to close, and scurried down the steps. The door shut and I waited half a heartbeat before tracking around the side of the house, careful to avoid the windows so no one would see me wandering around the backyard with a casserole dish in my hands. Posy was still lingering at the tree line and disappeared from sight just as I neared the back of the manor. I bolted across the large yard and ducked into the cover of the trees. “Posy!” I hissed. “Posy!”

A silver silhouette flickered through a tree and she was standing before me, a quizzical look on her face. “Holly? What are you doing out here?”

“I came to see you.” I set the casserole dish on a tree stump and turned back to face her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, dear. Go back inside and enjoy your dinner.”

I planted one hand on my hip. “You’re not fine. Fine Posy would be in there playing hostess and telling Lacey, Evangeline, and me which serving dishes to use and how our potato peeling technique was off,” I argued, offering her a smile.

Posy’s lips twitched as though she were fighting a smile of her own. A tiny sign of progress. But it faded quickly and she waved a hand through the air between us. “I appreciate your concern, Holly. But you don’t need to worry about me.”

I couldn’t force her inside, but her assurances felt hollow and I couldn’t leave her alone.

Posy stared past me and looked up at the manor, a glimmer of sadness reflecting in her eyes. “I have a lot of bittersweet memories, Holly. That’s what happens when you live for fifty-two years and then spend over a hundred as a ghost. You collect a lot of memories.”

I glanced down at my hands. “You miss your family.”

“I always miss my family.” She inclined her head, looking away from the manor. “But yes, it’s harder on days like this one. I think back on the Thanksgiving’s hosted in that very dining room. The way it felt to make dinner and be surrounded by family and friends and neighbors. I was quite the hostess, you know.”

I gave her a wistful smile, easily able to imagine it.

“Anyways, I figured rather than float around like a rain cloud, I’d steer clear and let you all enjoy the day.”

“Posy.” I took a step toward her, wishing I could set my hand on her arm. “You don’t understand that when you’re not there, a part of our family is missing.”

Her eyes went wide.

“We’re your family now. Adam, Evangeline, Lacey. Me too. Not by blood, of course—”

“Well that figures, I don’t have any blood left.” Her tone was dry, but there was a slight gleam in her eyes.

I rocked back on my heels. “Posy, did you just tell a dark joke?”

She smiled. “It happens every once in a while.”

I laughed softly. “We’d really love it if you could come and celebrate with us. Just think about how much fun you can have when half the people at the table won’t be able to see you. You can put your hands in their food or drinks.”

“Holly!” she barked, looking thoroughly scandalized.

What? The no blood joke was funny but not ghost pranks? Ya win some, ya lose some.

I sighed. “It was just an idea. But please, Posy, come to dinner. It won’t be the same without you there too.”

“You mean it?”

“I do,” I replied, nodding. “Come make some new memories with us.”

She smiled. “Okay. Thank you for the invitation.”

Posy floated ahead and glanced back as I started to follow her. “What about the casserole, dear?”

I flapped a hand. “It’s for Mrs. Archibald.”

“Who?”

I laughed, not bothering to explain, and continued to lead the way back to the manor.

We got back inside just in time to witness the sheer evil genius of a certain butterball tabby cat. As soon as the back door opened, Boots charged out, a turkey leg in his mouth. A chorus of screams followed and I raised my hand, ready to fire off a stunning spell and stop him, before I remembered the kitchen was full of humans and squelched the magic gathered in my palm.

Short one drumstick, but full of laughter and cheer—yes, even Lacey—we gathered around the table and shared the beautiful meal. It wasn’t all cooked to perfection, but it was perfect nonetheless.

Toward the end of the meal, Adam draped his arm over the back of my chair and leaned in close. “You know what I’m thankful for this year?”

I smiled at him. “That Boots didn’t run off with both turkey legs?”

He grinned but shook his head. “No, Holly Boldt, I am thankful for the day that you showed up on the front porch.”

“Even though I was accompanied by said turkey thief?”

He laughed. “Even so.”

I swallowed hard. “Happy Thanksgiving, Adam.”

He held up his wine glass. “Here’s to many more.”