Bring Down the Stars

“No worries.” I stuck my hands in my pockets, feeling Autumn’s eyes on me. “Nobody worthy of your company.”

Mrs. Drake made a face and swatted my arm. “Aren’t you a charmer? Good night, then. Breakfast at nine tomorrow, dinner at one.”

I watched Connor and Autumn go upstairs together, then I slipped into my own room on the first floor.

Lying in bed, I stared at the ceiling. Above me, Connor was probably wrapped in Autumn’s arms, falling asleep to the soft cadence of her breath against his chest. Or having sex with her quietly…

Or fucking her brains out.

“You’ve no one to blame but yourself,” I muttered to the dark, and wrapped myself in cold sheets and silence.

Around one o’clock the next afternoon, the subdued Drake household was bombarded by my mother.

“This must be Connor’s girl,” Miranda said in the foyer, pulling Autumn into a hug, then holding her at arm’s length. “My gosh, she’s an angel. Look at this face.”

“Okay, Ma,” I said, my cheeks burning.

“Is it not true? She’s an angel.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Turner,” Autumn said. Her smile was a hundred times more relaxed than it was with the Drakes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Ma shook her head. “An angel.” She turned to me. “Why can’t you find yourself a girl like this?” She patted Autumn’s cheek. “Beautiful. I hope Connor is treating you right.”

“I do my best,” Connor said, his gaze flicking to me and back.

It’s a group effort.

“This is Paul Winfield,” Ma said. “He treats me like gold, in case you were curious.”

“I do my best,” Paul said with a wink. “A pleasure, Autumn.”

“Where are Kim and Felicia?” I asked.

Ma crossed herself. “Don’t get me started on those two. Suddenly, we had other engagements. Suddenly, our social calendars are full and we can’t be bothered to tell our own mother.” She turned to Mrs. Drake who joined us in the foyer. “I’m so sorry, Victoria. Those girls do their own thing. Come and go. I have no say. I don’t know where they are from one minute to the next. It’s a travesty.”

“They’re grown women, free to make their own decisions,” Victoria said placidly. “I’m glad you’re here though.” She and my mother kissed cheeks. “And you must be Paul.”

Paul offered his hand. “Thank—”

“Don’t be shy, now,” Ma said. “Paul Winfield, this is Victoria Drake. She and Alan are like a second set of parents to my Wes. I don’t know what I would’ve done without them when he was a wild boy on the streets, getting into fights every other minute.”

I looked upward, as if patience could rain down on me from the ceiling.

“Wes has been the best friend Connor could hope for,” Mrs. Drake said. “We’re so happy to have you both as part of this family.”

“Here I go,” Ma said, wiping her eyes with a hanky Paul had at the ready. “All of five minutes and I’m already crying with gratitude. Paul, didn’t I tell you she was a gem?”

“I believe dinner is almost ready,” Mrs. Drake said, just as one of the cooks appeared in the hall and motioned to her. “I stand corrected. Dinner is ready.”

We gathered around the Drakes’ immense table in the formal dining room where the two place settings for Felicia and Kimberly were surreptitiously ghosted away. Mr. and Mrs. Drake sat at the heads of the table. Autumn and Connor on one side, with my mother and Paul. Jefferson, Cassandra and me, sat on the other. Mrs. Drake had us all hold hands while Mr. Drake offered up the Thanksgiving blessing.

“That was lovely, dear,” Mrs. Drake said when he finished. “Now please, everyone, enjoy.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ma said.

My stomach clenched.

“I think we all should go around the table and say something we’re thankful for. Okay, I’ll go first. No, no, I changed my mind. I want to go last. Mine’s a big one. Wes, baby, why don’t you go first?”