Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Wearing the dress Mom picked out, I helped her set the grand dining table. “It’s wonderful to use this space again,” she said, adjusting the autumn centerpiece. “Your father would have loved this.”

“He always enjoyed a full house,” I agreed.

She sighed. “I’ve been lonely since he passed. That’s why I hoped you’d marry Mark and stay close. I’d have grandchildren soon.”

“Mom, I love Nashville—the music, the energy. But Brevard will always be home.”

She hesitated. “I worry about you being so far away. Mark seemed perfect for you.”

“I know you want what’s best for me. Right now, that’s Clark.”

The doorbell rang. “That must be Mark,” she said, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Mark entered, carrying flowers and wine. “Happy Thanksgiving!” he announced, handing a bouquet to Mom. “These are for you, Mrs. Jenkins.”

“Thank you, Mark! They’re lovely,” Mom gushed.

He offered me a bouquet. “And for you, Aurora.”

“Thanks,” I replied. As he leaned in to kiss my cheek, I subtly stepped back, and his lips brushed the air awkwardly.

A flicker of confusion crossed his face, but he quickly recovered. “I brought your favorite wine.”

“Thoughtful,” I said politely.

As the family gathered, the doorbell rang again. “I’ll get it,” Mom said mysteriously.

Mark noticed the extra place settings. “Expecting more guests?”

“Just some neighbors,” I replied nervously.

Mom returned with Clark’s mom leading the way, followed by Clark and his family, each carrying dishes. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Mary and her family,” Mom announced cheerfully. “They’ll be joining us for dinner.”

Clark, in his biker gear, handed Mom the ham his mom cooked. Despite their casual attire, Mom welcomed them warmly, helping arrange their dishes alongside ours.

As Clark approached me, he gave a light peck on my cheek. “Good to see you,” he said softly.

“You too,” I managed, acutely aware of Mark’s eyes on us.

Introductions followed. Clark’s grandad grumbled, “But we call him Frog.”

Kathy added, “Grandad, Aurora calls him by his given name.”

Ignoring their whispers, I introduced Clark to my family, including Mark—careful not to mention he was my ex.

“Come on, everyone! I’ll be your hostess,” Holly, my niece, declared, leading the kids to the kitchen table.

At dinner, Uncle Bruce leaned forward. “So, Clark, how did you and Aurora meet?”

I felt my face heat up.

Clark grinned. “Funny story. I was riding through Nashville when I saw this beautiful lady with a flat tire in the rain. I stopped to help. She looked up at me and said, ‘Thank goodness! I thought I’d be stranded all night.’ After I got her back on the road, we grabbed coffee to warm up. One thing led to another.”

“Aww, that’s so romantic!” Cousin Grace sighed.

“Isn’t he just my knight in shining armor?” I said, forcing a smile while nudging him under the table.

“And ever since then, I’ve called her my Little Honey Bun,” Clark added with a playful smirk.

Laughter erupted.

“Honey Bun?” Aunt Lydia echoed, amused.

“Because we had a couple of honey buns with that coffee, and Aurora’s so sweet.”

My cheeks burn hotter. Mark’s expression hardened as he sipped his wine.

“Well, that’s quite the story,” Mom said, her eyes flickering between us.

“So, Mark,” Clark said smoothly, turning the spotlight. “What do you do?”

“I’m an orthopedic surgeon,” Mark replied tersely.

“Impressive,” Clark acknowledged. “Saving lives and all that.”

“Yes,” Mark said shortly.

An awkward silence threatened, but Mom quickly intervened. “Who’s ready for turkey? Let’s all take our seats.”

As we passed dishes around, I whispered to Clark, “Little Honey Bun?”

He chuckled. “Thought it added a nice touch.”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” I muttered.

“Perhaps a bit,” he acknowledged, eyes gleaming.

Throughout the meal, Clark engaged effortlessly with my family, sharing stories that were both entertaining and outrageous. Even Mom seemed taken with him, laughing at his jokes.

“Clark, what exactly do you do in Nashville?” Uncle Bruce asked.

“I’m in the transportation business—logistics, deliveries,” Clark replied smoothly.

“Sounds lucrative,” Uncle Bruce nodded.

“It keeps me busy,” Clark said modestly.

“Well, anyone who can keep up with our Aurora is okay in my book,” Aunt Lydia chimed in.

“Absolutely,” Mom agreed, smiling. “She’s quite accomplished, you know.”

I glanced at Clark, who winked. “There’s nothing my Little Honey Bun can’t do.”

Mom added, “She might be up for a Grammy.”

Trying to fill him in, I said, “The Nashville Symphony Orchestra hopes for a nomination this year. I’m a violinist.”

“That’s wonderful,” Mary, Clark’s mom, said. “We love music. Clark’s grandpa played banjo at festivals.”

As dessert was served, Mark abruptly stood. He hardly said a word all night. “Excuse me, everyone. Aurora, could I have a word?” His tone was clipped.

I hesitated, glancing at Clark, who nodded.

“Sure,” I said, pushing back my chair.

We stepped into the dim hallway, away from the dining room’s warmth.

“I didn’t realize you were seeing someone,” Mark began, eyes scanning my face.

“It happened recently,” I replied cautiously.

He ran a hand through his hair. “I was hoping we could talk about... us.”

“Mark, we’ve been over this. Our relationship didn’t work.”

“I’ve changed,” he insisted.

“It’s not about that. We’re just not right for each other.”

He scowled. “So, you’d rather be with some biker than give us another chance?”

Anger surged. “Just like you chose your surgical assistant over me?”

“That was a misunderstanding. Now you’re with this... outlaw? It’s beneath you, Aurora.”

“Don’t judge me,” I warned.

He sneered. “Look at him—leather jacket, tattoos. Is that who you want?”

Before I could respond, Clark appeared. “Everything okay here?”