Hope Everlasting. [COMPLETED.]

Chapter Thirty-Turkey and the Bittersweet Truth.

Chapter Thirty-Turkey and the Bittersweet Truth.

Dylan’s P.O.V.

“Lynne? Are you ready yet?” I called, checking my watch--my best one of course; the only gift my Father had saved specifically for me--while simultaneously tapping my foot impatiently. God, girls took long to get ready. Today, Ashlynn was taking even longer than Cory, and believe me when I say, that’s saying something; he was the biggest bloody girl of the lot.

“Coming!” called the voice of an angel. Wait, what? Did I just think that? No, I told myself sternly, you can’t do this. You can’t be falling for her.

I knew the truth, though. It didn’t matter how many times I told myself it, there was no denying that I was falling for Ashlynn Carter. Yet, there was no way in Hell--ironic, much?--that I could do anything about it...not yet, anyway.

And then down the stairs she came, and instantly took my breath away.

Her hair was tied back, in a simple bun, a few wavy strands let loose around her face. She wore natural makeup, and had a simple purple and blue checked shirt on, over a white vest top, stone-washed jeans covering her bottom half. It might be simple, but she looked stunning.

“You do realize we’re not going to some cattle ranch, don’t you? It’s only Thanksgiving at your Mom’s house, you know,” Cory commented obnoxiously, although I could tell he was totally checking her out. The way one eyebrow was cockily raised, as his brown eyes scanned her body. It made me want to shudder, it really did.

Call me paranoid, but I was still convinced there was something going on between them too.

Ashlynn rolled her eyes. “Oh haha. You can’t talk, Mr. I bet you spent about an hour doing your hair, this morning.”

I snorted; she was right there, really.

Cory opened his mouth to retort back, but I held up a hand. “Come on, guys. We’re gonna be late, else.”

My brother rolled his eyes at Ashlynn, but said nothing, following me out the house.

When I was a little kid, I used to adore Thanksgiving. It would always be at our house; family members from all over the country travelling to see us, a warm fire roaring, the smell of roasted chestnuts, succulent turkey, crispy goose fat potatoes and a variety of other delicious smells. It was all about the food, it really was. Yet now, things were different.

Even though I knew Ashlynn didn’t want to go, I was kind of glad we were. It would do her good to see her Mom but not only that, it would be nice to actually do something for Thanksgiving. Normally, our maid cooked us a meal, and Cory and I would chill out on the sofa, watching crappy movies. Our Father came home sometimes, but it was extremely rare. He’d send gifts though, of course; anything to keep us happy, keep us quiet.

I don’t think he realized yet that he couldn’t buy my affection. Not that I cared; long ago, I had accepted the fact that I simply no longer had a Father. It was easier that way; less painful.

We all got into the car, myself driving of course; Cory had already had a beer, and it was only eleven o’clock in the morning. Apparently, ‘that’s what Thanksgiving was for’. Personally, I thought it was about giving thanks, but there we go.