A Frightening Fangs-giving

You’ve got two families now. That means we get two dinners, right? Right?”
Georgie has spent every Thanksgiving with me for as long as I can remember, and there’s no way I’m abandoning her now.
“Dad and Gwen hopped on another cruise,” I tell her.
My father and Jasper’s mother have been a thing for over a year now. It’s sort of weird, I know.
Georgie shakes her head. “And here I didn’t think they’d last.”
Macy grunts, “Clearly they’re just staying together to spite all the naysayers. Me being one of them.”
“Me being another,” I say. They spent last month cruising, and no sooner did they disembark than they hopped right on another seaside voyage. “Jasper’s brothers and sister haven’t mentioned anything about Thanksgiving. I think I’ll invite them all to the inn. Since Cider Cove is having their first official Thanksgiving Day parade, the café has been swamped with orders for full Thanksgiving dinners to go. I’d better stay close to make sure things run smoothly—that way I can give Grady and Nessa the afternoon off.”
Macy nods my way. “If you’ve got the turkey and pie, I’ve got the time. But I plan on dining and ditching. There’s nothing better than snuggling up with my laptop after stuffing myself like a turkey and shopping until I drop. Ooh, and I’ll need a pumpkin pie to go. It’s my tackling fuel when it comes to scoping out all the best deals.”
Juni shakes her head. “I’ll be there with jingle bells on. There’s nothing like a Thanksgiving Day meal to put me in a three-day coma. In fact, I’m going to start right now.” She smacks my sister on the arm. “Dibs on the beefcake at the buffet with the tats and the red bandana.” She takes off, and the three of us look in that direction to see a barrel-chested man with a beer belly lapping his pants. The bandana in question is wrapped around his arm, I think he’s stuffing dinner rolls into it, and the tattoos look worn out and disfigured by time.
Macy sighs. “Juniper Moonbeam is going to make some optometrist a very rich man.”
“No fair.” Georgie snarls. “Juni always gets the cream of the crop. Don’t worry, kittens. We’ll get our mittens on some beefcake yet.” She leans our way. “They’re my secret weapon. I took them out on the town today, and I may as well have been wrapped in bacon the way the men drooled at the goods.”
“Georgie.” Macy’s cheeks flicker. “I know for a fact you went to the Cider Cove Senior Center. Those men were drooling for another reason entirely. But just to be safe, I’ll take a kitten after I finish my dinner. I’m willing to test your bacon-wrapped theory.”
Fish touches her paw to my chest. We should give them names, Bizzy. Something just as cute as they are—like say, Fish One, Two, and Three?
I squelch a laugh. “I think Fish wants us to name the kittens, Georgie.”
“Oh, they’ve got names.” She holds open her quilt as if she was about to flash us. “Meet Pumpkin, Spice, and Cookie. I don’t know who’s who, but they do and that’s all that matters.”
The three of them mewl in unison.
I’m Cookie.
I’m Cookie, another one bleats.
You can both be Cookie, the third pipes up. I rather like Pumpkin Spice.
I touch my finger over the one with a white patch over her forehead. “You can be Cookie.” I give the one with a peach nose a quick pat. “And you are obviously Pumpkin.” I look to the kitten with the most stripes. “And you, my sweet girl, are Spice.”
Georgie scoots past me. “I’m taking my cool cats and loading up at the buffet. Try not to arrest anyone until I get back. But don’t wait up for me either. I’m gunning for a slice of beefcake myself. There’s no reason Juni should get to have all the fun.”
She takes off just as Macy grips me by the arms.
“There she is,” she hisses while pointing behind me.
Sure enough, Willow Taylor is laughing with an orange fruity concoction in her hand while talking to two men at once and I gasp at the sight of her.
“Wow, Macy. Not only does she look just like you, but with that brown leather jacket and thigh-high boots, she’s a dead ringer.”
“The operative word being dead.” Macy glowers at the woman, and Willow does a double take in our direction before heading on over without hesitation.
“Here she comes,” I grit the words out like a ventriloquist. “Play nice. On second thought, don’t play at all. Let me handle this.”
Willow lands her elbows to the table and doesn’t bother to hide the disgruntled look on her face.
“What are the two of you doing here? You didn’t follow me, did you?” And here I thought Ember was far too interested in my business.
“Follow you?” Macy hisses. “So what if I did?”
“Wrong answer.” I moan as Fish ducks her head into my tote bag.
Willow scoffs. “Look, I don’t want any trouble from you. Your beef was with Ember, and she’s cold in the morgue.” And it feels like my birthday and Christmas rolled into one.
I blink back at the horrible thought.
Her birthday and Christmas? Who says something like that?
“Yeah?” Macy’s eyes grow wide with rage. “Well, maybe she’s cold in the morgue because you put her there. And now you’re trying to pin it on me.”
Willow laughs at the thought. “You’re almost as nuts as she was.”
Nuts? The woman clearly did not care for Ember. So why go into business with her?
“I’m nuts?” Macy’s voice hikes up over the chipper song bleating through the speakers.
“Hold your horses!” Georgie hobbles back with two heaping plates of what looks to be a full Thanksgiving dinner. And my God, does that turkey ever look juicy. The mashed potatoes have a nice well of brown gravy pressed into them, and the stuffing looks light and fluffy with bits of sausage in it. I’d eat all the above with my hands tied behind