Chapter 35 - The Thanksgiving Table
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Thanksgiving had never been a holiday celebrated in the Vale household. To Dominic, it was merely a Thursday where the banks were closed. To Mia, it was a day where Nathan demanded an elaborate, tense dinner with silent partners and corrupt politicians.
This year, the holiday was entirely different. They gathered at a neutral location—a large, warmly lit private dining room in a rustic restaurant nestled in the Berkshires, exactly halfway between Boston and Vermont.
The long wooden table was crowded. Mia and Harper sat on one side. Lily and Victoria sat opposite them. Daniel, looking deeply out of place in a casual sweater, sat near the end. And at the head of the table, looking incredibly relaxed, sat Dominic.
There were no bodyguards at the door. There were no hushed conversations about offshore accounts. There was only the loud, chaotic noise of a family trying to figure out how to be a family.
"I am just saying," Victoria argued playfully with Daniel over a bowl of mashed potatoes, "that installing a commercial-grade security system in my brownstone is entirely unnecessary."
"With all due respect, ma'am," Daniel replied, completely serious, "the deadbolt on your back door is thirty years old. I could pick it with a paperclip."
Harper giggled loudly, dropping a piece of turkey onto the floor for the small dog the restaurant owner allowed her to play with.
"Daniel is like a ninja!" Harper announced to the table. "He knows all the secrets."
Dominic smiled, looking down the length of the table. He caught Mia’s eye, and she offered a gentle, knowing nod. They had survived the fire, and now they were sitting in the warmth.
Lily tapped her glass with a spoon, a gesture she had learned from Victoria. The table quieted down, looking at the young woman who had brought them all together.
"I just wanted to say," Lily started, her voice steady and clear, "that for a long time, I didn't think I would ever have a seat at a table. I thought I was just a secret. But looking at all of you, I realize that family isn't about blood, or legacy, or names. It's about who shows up when the doors are finally opened."
She raised her glass of sparkling cider. "To new endings."
May you like
"To better endings," Harper corrected loudly, raising her juice box.
Dominic raised his glass, his eyes bright. "To better endings."
