Lucky Number Four (13 page)

So far, Thanksgiving dinner has had no
surprises. Altogether, there are twenty-five of us—cousins, aunts,
uncles and the grandparents all gathered at several tables placed
throughout downstairs. As usual, Dad’s dinner is amazing, though he
only cooks on Turkey Day and Christmas. I’m sitting at the kiddie
table with Mike, Bridget, and several other young ones. Being the
good cousin that I am, I’m keeping them entertained, even my
one-year-old cousin Sally. She has hair like mine, poor kid, and
the cutest dimples you’ve ever seen. She’s wearing more of her
dinner than ingesting it, but she’s happy and that’s all that
matters.

After most of the house guests leaves, those
that remain sit around talking about the day and the gossip we may
have missed while sitting at separate tables. The grandmothers had
been on their best behavior, which isn’t saying much, but was a
relief to my mom.

We’re watching a Christmas movie when the
doorbell rings and Mom says, “It’s for you, Dora.”

Everyone looks at me and I jump up, nervous
because Mom would have told me if it was Julie. My palms start
sweating as I reach the front door and dread sits heavy in my
stomach at who might be on the other side.

“Dora, it’s a little cold to keep them
waiting,” Mom’s voice prompts me to grab the door handle and open
it. It’s the roommates, sans smiles…normal for Liam, but for the
other two, not so much. They all look like someone just died.

“Hey, guys. Happy Thanksgiving.” My greeting
sounds so lame.

“Hello, Dora. May we speak with you?” Colin’s
proper statement and his adorable English accent send my stomach
and heart into their crazy antics again.

“Sure, come on in.” I open the door wide and
turn to see my whole family staring at us. Bridget grabs her phone
and her fingers move so fast it’s mesmerizing.

“We’re going into the family room, okay?” I
say, not waiting for an answer but leading the way to the back of
the house. The family room has a door so I can be sure that we
won’t be disturbed.

The guys eye the leather couch and they all
plop down and wait for me to sit in an overstuffed recliner
opposite them. Gawd, they’re so beautiful. Such a shame. It’s times
like this I wish I wasn’t an average person in an average body.

“Dora, we want to apologize for disrupting
your place of business yesterday.” Colin’s proper English makes me
weak in the knees—and yes, a stomach and heart flip happens, as
well. The memory of his kiss makes me blush. “Sometimes we don’t
think things through before we do them. We made you uncomfortable,
and we realize we caused you undue stress. Can you forgive us?”

“What he said,” Drew quipped, and he sends me
a slight smile. “Look, Dora, our lives are crazy, and most of the
time, not in a good way. You might think it’s all glamorous, but
it’s not. No, don’t roll your eyes. We’re surrounded by phony
people who smile in our faces and talk behind our backs. When we
met you, you were—”

“A breath of fresh air,” Colin interrupts.
“You’re so grounded and we work in a shark pool. If we make one
mistake, there is always someone else to take our place. So you are
like a—” Colin stops as if trying to find the right words.

“Ray of sunshine,” Liam says in a monotone
voice, sans smile. I can’t help myself. I start laughing. “Ray of
sunshine” from Mister Warmth himself. They all look startled and
then join in. Even Liam chuckles—yeah, he actually has the ability
to laugh.

“Thanks, guys,” I say, wiping tears from my
eyes. My side hurts, but I feel they’re telling me the truth.

“No, thank you, Dora. That night at Papa’s
was the best night we have had in … well, in a long time. We want
you to give us a chance to show you that we are fun, good guys who
just want to hang out with a wonderful, normal girl.” Drew
says.

“Okay, stop there. It’s getting a little deep
now. And if you think I’m normal, I may have to remind you of
Sunday’s dinner. Yeah, normal.” I roll my eyes and more laughter
erupts from all.

My mom opens the door and peers in at us with
a huge smile. “Would anyone like anything to drink?”

“Yes,” I say. “We’ll get you guys a beer or
something, and then if you want to spend time with a
normal
family, you can stay and watch a movie with us.”

Three heads nod vigorously. Oh, boy … I’m
totally going to pick a really
good
chick flick.

“Bye, guys. I’ll be home tomorrow,” I say as
they all get into Drew’s car.

Home. After tonight, it just might feel like
home.

“Dora, I need to speak with you for a moment
in private,” my mom’s voice drifts from the kitchen. She’s frowning
when I enter, and I know it’s serious. “I just talked to Henry and
he’s being very evasive, which isn’t like him. Normally, I can’t
shut him up. It has to do with you, but of course the pain in the
butt won’t tell me.”

“Mom, do you think you should talk about a
spirit like that?”

“Yes, when it’s warranted. He tells me you’re
to help Liam and Drew and do it soon. He won’t tell me why. He said
you will know. I hate this ‘I can’t read for my family’ crap. It’s
just not fair.”

“I think it’s great you can’t read us. Just
think how our lives would be, knowing our mom can see everything
about us. Don’t worry. It’s probably not that bad. Henry loves to
be a drama queen, right?”

“I hope that’s all it is, sweetie. Really, I
do.”

As I’m lying in bed in my old room in my
parents’ house, I’m wondering what I could possibly help Liam and
Drew with and why Colin isn’t involved. Just thinking his name is
enough for me to feel warm all over. I’m usually levelheaded. Even
my last boyfriend, aka The Jackass, never had me feeling this way.
In the beginning, we had some chemistry. We’d have to, right? Or
maybe I was tired of doing school and work and needed a little
extracurricular activity in my life. The sex wasn’t too bad, and
yet it wasn’t all that great either. I wasn’t a virgin. I lost that
to Mark Stephens the night of homecoming my senior year. Yeah, that
was memorable…not. But when I see Colin or hear his voice, I melt
in my nether regions.

Stop it, Dora
.
Don’t go there.
Concentrate on Liam and Drew’s so-called problem.
Colin is
out of my league—way out of my league—so just block those
thoughts.

I know, I know. I talk to myself, but who
doesn’t? Now, when I start answering my own questions out loud,
then I know I have a problem.

My eyes are getting heavy and I snuggle
underneath the warm down comforter, planning to dream about
anything but my roommates … yeah right, like that’s being
realistic.