Harkham's Choice (Harkham's Series Book 2)

by Chanse Lowell

  “Wait . . . You guys didn’t have turkey?” Zach’s eyes went wide.

  “No. My mom hates it, and she didn’t see the need for me to cook all day for just the two of us. She said it was a waste of time, so I just usually had a salad by myself and then hung out in my room.” Mari shrunk in her seat.

  “Sounds like my holidays growing up,” his dad said.

  That was unexpected. Mari’s eyes widened.

  “Really?” Zach scooped some mashed potatoes. “No wonder you never talk about this stuff from when you were a kid.”

  “My situation was a little different than Mari’s, though . . .” His father grabbed some salad and put it on Adam’s plate. “My parents were both highly sought after surgeons, and they were also workaholics. It was rare they could be home for a holiday, so most of the time, we just skipped the little ones.”

  “Thanksgiving’s not little,” Samara said.

  “It was to them.” Their dad cleared his throat. “Now I know differently. Anything that revolves around family and us being together at the dinner table is very significant and worth making an effort for as far as I’m concerned.”

  “So, today, they’re not celebrating?” Mari asked, and as soon as his face paled, she wished she hadn’t.

  “They’re dead. They both passed away a few years ago. My father from a heart attack. He was actually operating on someone when it hit him. Too much stress,” their dad answered. He grabbed a glass and filled it with water, then set that in front of Adam as well. “My mom died in a car crash about a year later. Drinking and driving.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Mari said, wishing she knew what else to say. Already, she was making a mess of their special dinner. Clearly, she had no idea what was appropriate Thanksgiving dinner table talk.

  “Don’t be. They never had much of a relationship with me. I decided I didn’t want that for my kids. So if I’m overbearing at times, it’s not because I’m a control freak. I just want to be involved and do what’s best for them.”

  “It’s very clear you love them. I would never say anything otherwise.” Mari swallowed.

  “Sure,” Samara said under her breath.

  “Okay . . . Let’s bless the food and eat, shall we?” His father took the hands of his children on either side of him.

  Mari followed and did the same. Who was supposed to say the prayer?

  Before she could ask Adam, his father started the blessing. “We are amongst family, and that means everything to us. Bless this food, oh Lord, that it’ll bring us the nutrients we need and give us a feeling of peace as we partake of it together. Bless those who prepared it, especially our Sammie, who tries very hard to keep this family together. Amen.”

  “Amen,” they all said, including Mari.

  She got a little teary eyed, knowing that she was kind of included in that prayer in a way since she’d made the dressing and the gravy.

  Adam reached for the very thing she made and smothered it in her gravy, along with his turkey and mashed potatoes.

  “I love stuffing, and Mari will eat it with us, since she made it and because I keep making sure she eats sugar and white flower now.” Adam beamed at her.

  “Yeah, of course, I will,” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper.

  She had yet to put an ounce of food on her plate.

  “Eat up, girl. No dieting allowed today,” Zach told her, putting a heap of green beans on her plate. “You heard the man—white flour, sugar and tons of fatty food. Mmmm.” His eyes lit up. “That’s what today’s all about—forget family. I’m here to stuff my face ‘til I can barely walk.” He chuckled.

  She held up a hand. “That’s more than enough, thank you.”

  “No way! These green beans are the best. You need more.” He went for another spoonful, but she took it out of his hand and served him some instead.

  “Quit being so shy about food, and I won’t have to snitch on your covert operations.” Zach smirked at her.

  She kicked him under the table. “Who’s shy?”

  “Not you—clearly. Any higher, and you would’ve crippled me by hitting my boys.”

  “They don’t hang down that low,” his sister said, snorting.

  “Sure do. I can prove it,” Zach said, pretending to stand up like he was about to drop his pants.

  “No one cares about how well-endowed you think you are, Zachary, so keep your ass in your seat,” his dad said.

  Mari choked on a laugh and a gasp. His father never cursed, and he just said “ass.” She was feeling a little more at home now that the profanities were out.

  “Psht! Everyone cares. Just the other day, this chick at school was telling this other girl about my junk. I had to tell her she was being conservative. She didn’t believe me, but I—”

  “Zach,” his dad warned through a laugh. He shook his head, too, like he couldn’t believe his silly son. “How was your football game?”

  “Awesome, of course. I wasted the other team.” Zach stuffed some turkey into his mouth. “They didn’t stand a chance against me. I was the biggest guy there.”

  “And the loudest, no doubt,” Samara said, stabbing at her salad.

  “All sorts of happy, though—like you, little nugget.” He stole a tomato off his sister’s salad and popped it in his mouth.

  Samara laughed. “I’m always cheerful.”

  Yes, yes. You’re as cheerful as a clown that’s been stabbed by a disgruntled, fellow clown car driver.

  Mari forced herself to keep quiet so she wouldn’t make any of the snide comments that were circulating in her head about that ridiculous comment Samara made. It would only be lowering herself to Samara’s level. She refused to do that.

  Instead, she focused on eating her turkey smothered in gravy.

  She licked her lips—both were so good.

  How many times had she wished as a kid that she had an average American Thanksgiving dinner? After several years of being disappointed, she simply gave up on that hope.

  Yet, here she was, surrounded by yummy food, good people and lighthearted conversation. What else could she ask for?

  “So . . .” Zach sighed. “Mari’s super talented.”

  “I didn’t cook this food, Samara did. And she did a fabulous job,” Mari said, on edge. There was no way she was even going to take credit for the dressing she’d stuffed the turkey with and the gravy she’d made. Anyone could make stuffing and gravy. It wasn’t hard.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, but good job on the gravy, though. It’s killer. Tcht!” He clicked his tongue and timed it with his wink at the end.

  “Stop. It,” she said under her breath, bending her neck toward him so no one could see her talking to him.

  “She’s very talented. Everything she does is beautiful,” Adam said, reaching over and stroking her arm.

  “Yes, she is indeed,” his dad agreed.

  What talents could either of them be talking about?

  “She has a way of seeing the good in others and bringing it out in them,” his dad said.

  Her face heated. “I do?” she blurted.

  “Yes, young lady—very much so. I could tell you all about the glowing remarks Dr. Harkham made about you, but I have since discovered them for myself, and more besides.”

  “I . . . Okay,” was all she could say.

  “Dr. Harkham told me last week when I saw her that she chooses Mari for me, and that I made an excellent choice by picking her as well,” Adam announced with a winning grin.

  Mari’s cheeks heated even more and so did the back of her neck and the top of her chest.

  “I forgot the napkins,” Samara said, pushing off from the table and abruptly leaving the room.

  “While nugget’s gone, just let me tell you—Mari’s made these cool wedding invitations for herself and Adam. She’s thrifty, smart and kind. It’s not really fair that she doesn’t have a sister,” Zach said, giving her a look of sisterly adoration.

  She wanted to hug him
, but that seemed wrong somehow in this atmosphere.

  Adam’s fork clinked on his plate. She was afraid to look at him, so she stared at her plate of food instead.

  “I want to see,” Adam said.

  “It’s not ready yet,” she replied, hanging her head a little.

  “I don’t care. I wanna see,” Adam repeated, sounding crestfallen over the idea she might not share it with him.

  “Maybe later.” Her voice trailed off.

  “No, now.” Adam gripped her arm as if to yank her from her seat.

  “Go get your laptop, Adam. I’d like to see, too,” his dad said.

  Her eyes popped open, and her head lifted. “You do?”

  “Of course.” His dad smiled at her. “I’m sure it’s very impressive.”

  “But I’ve barely started working on it. There’s nothing fabulous about a first draft,” she said, swallowing around the tight feeling in her throat.

  “First drafts are sometimes the most honest.” His dad looked at Adam. “Go get it. I’m sure Zach can put it on a thumb drive so we can see it on your laptop.”

  “Already done.” Zach produced a thumb drive out of his pocket.

  “This is the best Thanksgiving ever!” Adam popped up out of his seat and raced off.

  Samara came back into the room with the napkins, and her eyes narrowed on Mari right away when she noticed her brother was missing. “Something wrong?”

  “Nothing wrong at all,” their dad said, motioning for her to sit down.

  She did and passed the stack of napkins to her right.

  Adam came back all breathless but grinning wider than ever. He pushed his plate of food aside and set the laptop there in its place.

  Samara gasped. “No computers at the dinner table!”

  “Calm down. Dad and Adam want to see this,” Zach said, getting up, circling around Mari and inserting the thumb drive into the laptop.

  They opened up the website Mari had brought the program from.

  As soon as her invitation popped up, she was the one with the mouth popped open. It was gorgeous.

  “This is unreal. Thank you, Zach!” she said. He’d added all sorts of intriguing embellishments. There were silver swirls around the edges, and he’d somehow softened their image and zeroed in on their faces. The wording was a little more proper, and the whole thing was almost magical-looking—unearthly like they were both angels, hovering in the clouds with nothing but their love for each other surrounding them.

  “Cool, right? She did an awesome job,” Zach said.

  “You’re the one that made it awesome.” She had no idea when she’d stood up, but she was hugging Zach.

  Arms came around her and joined in on the hug. “Thank you!” Adam said. “Both of you. I love it!”

  “This is magnificent work,” his dad said, taking the laptop into his space. “Really quite good.”

  “You like it?” Mari squeaked out.

  “Very much.” His dad motioned for them all to take a seat.

  Zach smacked Adam on the back. “You’ve got a helluva girl. Make sure you keep her happy so she doesn’t leave.”

  “I will.” Adam beamed at her.

  “Can we eat now? That is why we’re here, isn’t it?” Samara said, tapping her fork on the edge of her plate.

  “Wanna see, Sam?” Adam asked her, taking the laptop back from his father.

  “Maybe later, if I can stomach it.” Samara kept her eyes on her dad, looking more than annoyed. She looked almost ashamed of him.

  “Sounds good,” Mari said, even if it didn’t sound good at all. “Maybe we can listen to Adam’s newest music he’s created, too.”

  Samara smiled. “And maybe we can focus on the holiday and stick to traditions . . . We play board games after dinner, and then we have pie. It’s not much, but it’s our family.”

  “That’s great that you guys do that. Traditions are always inspiring to me. I wish I had more of them in my life growing up.” Mari smiled.

  Samara grimaced. “Yes, well, we’re going to make sure we keep to ours, no matter who joins us for them.”

  Mari kept quiet. Samara was threatened. It was in her voice, her posture, her words.

  “The more the merrier, I say.” Zach held up his glass. “To Mari. She’s made this house a lot more fun.”

  “Uh . . .” Mari was speechless.

  They all toasted to her, though Samara barely spoke the words loud enough for anyone to hear.

  Mari wanted to hide from Adam’s caustic sister, but instead, she added another toast. “To the Latham’s—a very loving, encouraging family I admire.”

  “Lathams,” they all said louder, clinking their glasses together.

  It seemed a little silly to toast with water, but it worked somehow.

  From there, the conversation drifted to what they were all thankful for. When it got to her, all she could choke out was, “Adam. I’m thankful for his large, giving heart.”

  “And I’m thankful you have hands and held mine when I met you, otherwise I’d still be lost.”

  “And that, my friends, is what we call gaggy love,” Zach said, standing up, rubbing his belly. “Games, anyone?”

  They all laughed and followed him out of the room.

  Mari’s mind raced a little bit, but when Adam pulled her down to his side and had her sit cross-legged like him, she knew she belonged.

  Didn’t matter what game they played. She could figure it out.

  She was smart enough, and for once, she was loved and part of a positive tradition.

  Chapter 6

  Almost a whole month passed, and Samara barely spoke to Mari.

  If Mari entered a common room, Samara would either read something on her phone, talk to somebody else in the room, or she’d leave altogether.

  Mari tried to engage her a few different occasions, but after being snubbed so many times, she was too exhausted to try anymore.

  Adam was sweet, as usual, and when he was in the room, he found a way to make it work, but when he wasn’t there, Samara became a whole different person. She almost went from tinkling fairy to snarling dragon.

  It would’ve been impressive how she could be so two-faced, if it wasn’t so damn scary.

  She hoped Samara would skip his basketball game today. It would make things more comfortable for Mari as she sat in the bleachers.

  Mari was bouncing out of her seat so much, and her whole body was overreacting to everything—she probably looked like she was on drugs.

  This was a huge deal. Adam was given permission by his dad, Dr. Harkham, and the coach to play basketball.

  Zach was on the team, too, and would watch out for him.

  She couldn’t imagine being more excited about anything else.

  Adam couldn’t stop kissing her last night and asking repeatedly, “You’re gonna be there, right? I’ll be able to see you in the stands? You’ll watch me all the time?”

  She’d smile, giggle and wiggle her hips under his crushing weight that she loved so much.

  “Yes, sweetie. I’ll even bring binoculars,” she’d told him while lying comfortably in his bed. “Just so I can see every exhausted breath you take and every drop of sweat that rolls down your biceps.”

  “Ewww! Gross.”

  She giggled. “Binoculars aren’t gross.”

  “I didn’t mean that.” He frowned. “And we don’t have any of those anyway. Binoculars, I mean—not arm sweat.”

  She’d laughed so hard her stomach almost ached, but she kept it quiet so his dad wouldn’t wake up. “It was a joke. I’ll be in the front row. I won’t need them to see your gorgeous face. I’ll even wave at you every now and then so you’ll know I’m watching you and only you as intently as possible.”

  “Good,” was his final remark before he had kissed her over and over again and asked the same thing once more.

  It never bothered her—the repetition. How could it? All that enthusiasm was infectious.

  He came out onto the court
, waving at her and smiling like a kid about to enjoy the best carnival ride ever.

  Her heart fluttered. He looked sexy in that outfit, all long, lean, toned legs. Her heart about burst when she saw Zach and him put an arm around each other as they moved to the bench.

  She never would’ve thought she’d “awwww” at something, but she did. They were adorable.

  Her hand even went over her heart.

  The other team went to their area, and a few players from each team went to the sidelines and stretched.

  Her eyes were so glued to Adam and Zach, messing around, smacking each other and trash talking, she failed to notice that Kendra wobbled to her side.

  “Hi,” she said and plopped down next to Mari.

  Mari ignored her.

  “Oh, I see . . . It’s like that, is it?”

  Mari cringed. “Ken, you reek of beer!”

  “So?”

  “So? You’re on school grounds.”

  “I don’t care. It’s a night gwwwame,” Kendra slurred. “No one cayurzzz.”

  Mari’s left hand that had been on her heart landed at her side on the edge of the bleacher so she could push away from Kendra. The smell was enough to make Mari want to seek a new seat several bleachers higher.

  Kendra’s eyes flashed through the red swollenness. Had she been crying?

  “I thought I kept seeing a rock on your finger during class, but I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me!” Kendra scooped Mari’s left hand up in hers and had the diamond two inches away from her eyes. “It’s not fair!”

  She flung Mari’s hand away.

  “You don’t even like Adam, so why do you care?” Mari frowned.

  “I do like him. It’s not my fault he—”

  “He what?” Mari said, her spine snapping straight. “He’s the sweetest man ever, and more talented than anybody I’ve ever known? Yeah, you would say that, wouldn’t you? You’re right—it’s not your fault. It’s not his either. Just . . . leave us alone!” She threw a look of disgust at Kendra.

  “I can’t.” In a split second, Kendra turned green, almost doubled over, then quickly covered her mouth. Her cheeks puffed out as her lips pressed together. She made that retching sound that almost had Mari’s vision blurring.

  Shit! Mari could see what was about to happen.