My Husband Accused My Family of Stealing His Mother’s Gift Chapter 02

My Husband Accused My Family of Stealing His Mother’s Gift Chapter 02

Dad froze for a second. Once he realized who was standing outside, he quickly stepped back and ushered them in.

“Yes, yes, the crabs are here. My eyesight isn’t what it used to be, and I didn’t read the label carefully enough.”

After seating Linda and Noah at the head of the table, Dad hurried off to retrieve the bag he had already packed.

“I packed everything back up. Every crab is here. Take a look, Linda.”

Linda took the bag with one hand and gave the contents a cursory glance.

Coco squirmed in her arms and pushed her nose toward the opening of the bag. As if something had just occurred to her, Linda gave Dad a faint smile.

“Frank, I’m sorry for showing up without calling first.”

“Adrian and Sienna spend every Thanksgiving at my house. When they suddenly said they weren’t coming this year, Noah and I were left sitting at home in awkward silence. The whole place felt so empty.”

“We figured it would be livelier over here, so we thought we’d invite ourselves to dinner. You don’t mind, do you?”

Mom and Dad immediately waved away the concern.

“Of course not. We’re thrilled to have you spend Thanksgiving with us.”

Dad craned his neck toward the kitchen and called loudly, as though he was afraid Tyler would not hear him from there.

“Tyler, Linda and Noah are here. Make a few more dishes, would you?”

I started to speak, but Mom pressed down on my hand beneath the table. She looked at me and gave a slight shake of her head.

I had not gone to Linda’s house for Thanksgiving that year because it was also my father’s sixtieth birthday.

I had told Adrian about it two months in advance, and he had agreed to the arrangement.

For the occasion, I had already sent Linda five thousand dollars toward her Thanksgiving plans and arranged a separate assortment of gifts for her.

I could visit Linda and be there for her on any other day of the year. Today was the one day that had to belong to my father.

While everyone talked, Adrian kept refilling Linda’s glass and serving Noah from the platters. He also checked in on Maya from time to time to make sure she had everything she needed.

The only person he ignored was my father.

Adrian never offered me a single word of explanation for his family’s sudden arrival. He acted as though their presence at my father’s birthday dinner required no explanation at all.

Linda opened the bag Dad had packed and pulled out the container of picked crabmeat. She popped off the lid, tossed the container onto the floor, and nudged it toward Coco with her foot.

She lowered Coco to the floor and stroked her head with a smile.

“It’s Thanksgiving, sweetheart. You get to celebrate too. Easy now.”

The moment Linda let go, Coco lunged eagerly at the container and buried her snout in the crabmeat.

Dad’s fork froze in midair, and his expression turned stricken.

I could not take another second of it. I shot to my feet, and my chair scraped harshly across the floor.

“Mom, my dad spent the entire morning picking that crabmeat out of the shells. He hadn’t even tasted any of it himself.”

“And you just fed it to your dog right in front of him?”

Linda looked up at me as if she could not understand what the problem was, then calmly wiped her hands with a napkin.

“What’s the big deal? Who says a dog can’t eat crabmeat?”

She glanced at Adrian, a smug gleam flashing in her eyes.

“Besides, Adrian bought it for me. I can do whatever I want with it. Why are you getting so worked up?”

Before I could get anything harsher out, Dad stopped me.

He seized my wrist. Band-Aids still covered the cuts he had gotten while shelling crabs for Adrian earlier.

Dad had to use considerable force to press me back into my chair, then forced a smile.

“Linda’s right. Sit down, Sienna. Let’s not turn this into a fight.”

“You should be thanking Adrian for letting you spend Thanksgiving with me on my birthday.”

The doorbell rang as soon as he finished speaking, and Mom stood up to answer it.

“I’ll get it. That must be your dad’s birthday cake.”