Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(50)

Amanda actually looked stunned. “You mean you’re wearing a complete stranger's crusty, old Christmas sweater?”

“Would I have somehow magically known the previous owner if I had gotten it at the Salvation Army?” Angela questioned.

“No, but at least that person probably would’ve cared enough to wash it. A hobo could’ve been wearing that for Christ’s sake. And even he didn’t like it enough to keep it.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Angela scoffed as she walked toward the living room.

“I’m ridic . . . never mind. Why do I even bother?” Amanda threw up her arms in mock indignation but couldn’t hold in the laughter as she walked back toward the kitchen.

I couldn’t help but giggle as they both walked off. This is going to be one helluva Christmas.

By four o’clock, we were sitting down to dinner. Well, two dinners would be more accurate. Shane’s dining room table had developed a sort of nutritional divide. They had agreed to serve turkey and a round roast as the staple dishes of the meal, so these were in the center of the table, flanked to the left by Amanda’s side dishes and to the right by Shane’s.

We all eyed each other warily as we stood around the table, afraid to show allegiance to either side. Amanda and Shane sat on opposing ends of the rectangular table, Amanda in front of her food, Shane in front of his. Choosing a seat became akin to choosing gang colors. Suddenly, I felt a shoulder bump mine. I looked to see who had tapped me.

Shit.

“Where you sittin’, shawty?” Shane’s eleven-year-old nephew Henry was going through some sort of bizarre identity crisis. Hate to break it to ya, kid, but you’re not Eminem.

I smiled sweetly at him. “Where are you sitting?”

“Uh . . . I guess . . . I guess right here,” he stammered as he pointed to a chair next to Shane, clearly thrown by what he interpreted as me flirting with him.

I immediately dropped my smile and said curtly, “Then I’m sitting over there,” as I pointed to a chair beside Amanda. I began walking toward my chosen seat when I heard him mutter behind me.

“I love it when a chick plays hard to get.” He pulled out his chair and plopped down in it.

I swung my head toward Amanda and raised my eyebrows.

“Ignore him. Everyone else does,” she offered as she took a sip of her wine. Her eyes never left Shane.

Angela sat down on the other side of Amanda. “You use very interesting language, Henry. Is it, oh what’s it called, umm . . . oh, yeah, Ebonics?”

“Jesus Christ,” Amanda murmured.

“Nah, it’s just me, baby.”

“Henry,” Talia scolded, “that’s enough.”

“Haters gonna hate, Mom,” Henry muttered.

“And idiots gonna get grounded if they don’t learn how to show some respect,” Talia countered.

Henry immediately shut up, which caused me to fall slightly in love with Talia.

“Everything looks wonderful,” Shane’s mom Katherine interjected, probably hoping to steer the conversation in a more positive direction.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Amanda said under her breath, which earned her a kick from me. She hadn’t been around Shane’s mom that much since they got together, and the last thing she needed was to make a bad impression.

“So, are we all going to stare at the food or are we actually going to eat it?” Shane’s brother Ben asked loudly.

“We should say a blessing,” Katherine suggested.

“Well who’s going to do it? And can they hurry? I’m starving.” Ben received an irritated glare from Talia, but simply shrugged his shoulders and added, “We were all thinking it.”

“It’s Shane’s house. He should do it,” Amanda suggested with a smirk.

“What a great idea,” Katherine gushed.

Shane stared daggers at Amanda. “Sure, I’d be honored to give the blessing.”

We all joined hands, bowed our heads, and Shane cleared his throat. “Dear Lord . . .”

Amanda let out an extremely unattractive snort, and I squeezed her hand tightly. “Sorry, something was stuck in my throat.”

Shane let out a long, agitated breath before he started again. “Dear Lord . . .” He hesitated a moment and looked up at Amanda, as if daring her to interrupt him again. She smiled coyly and he went on. “We thank you for this food we are about to eat, even though some of it has been stripped of any nutritional value during its preparation.”

I tried to bite back a smile as Amanda’s head shot up.

“We also thank you for allowing all of us to be here today. Even though some of us are difficult and pigheaded, we appreciate being able to celebrate this day together. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

“That was . . . very nice, Shane,” Katherine commented.

“Yeah, Shane. Very nice,” Amanda added. Her voice sounded sincere, but anyone who knew her could recognize the gleam in her eye. Tonight was about to get very interesting.

“Why thank you, Mom. Sweetheart.”

To my knowledge, Shane never referred to Amanda as ‘sweetheart' and meant it sincerely, which led me to believe the gauntlet had not only been thrown, but accepted.

“Mommy, can I have some turkey?” I looked at the sweet little girl beside me. I’m not sure how Talia and Ben had created an abomination like Henry and then something so adorable like Mackenzie.