While I have many valid excuses for not updating for SUCH a long time (sorry, sorry!), I'm going to put a positive spin on this and say "Happy holiday season, everyone! Surprise! I am continuing this story!" Here is a long chapter for having to wait so long. If you're new, howdy. Next chapter coming within a week or so. Hit that review button to let me know your thoughts! :)

Chapter 15: Upstate

Getting out of the house for the break week was easy enough. My parents were present at breakfast the next morning, and I told them Emma, who also has family in New York, had invited me to spend Thanksgiving with them.

My mother looked up from her casework skeptically. "I don't know how I feel about you wasting five whole days on some American holiday, Courtney. Finals are coming up."

My father chimed in, eyes not drifting from his newspaper, as he took another bite of his toast. "We don't want you to lose focus, Courtney. Got to keep your eye on the prize."

I had already planned for this response. "Well, you see, it's perfect – Emma and I have been grouped together for an AP English Lit project that's due the day we get back. We'll have lots of time to work on it together. That's the main reason I need to go – to ensure that she stays focused."

"Oh," My mother exclaimed, thoughtfully. "What's the project on?"

"Jane Eyre. We're writing basically a preliminary thesis on the difficult position of governesses in the 1800s. How they didn't really identify with any one particular social class of their time because of their advanced education."

"Interesting," nodded my mother. My father hummed in agreement. "I expect to see it once it's finished."

I took that as an "okay" and tried my best to contain my smile. Bet they regret teaching me to play poker, now, I smirked inwardly.

-/-

At 4:18 the doorbell rang. "You're late," I quipped.

"Am I?" He asked simply.

I pulled him down for a quick kiss that made my stomach do a backflip. "Let's go," I urged, pulling him out the door. "I'm already nervous enough; I don't want to be worried about being late the whole drive, too."

He rolled his eyes as we got into his car and set off. "You really need to take a chill pill, woman."

An hour into our drive and it had been mostly quiet, the two of us listening to the soft purr of the car as we twisted around backroads. My nerves starting to get the best of me, I spoke up. "Let's talk about something."

"What do you want to talk about?" He answered coolly.

"I don't know," I answered, a little annoyance seeping into my tone. "Otherwise I would have suggested, 'Let's talk about x.'"

He sighed heavily and I caught him rolling his eyes again. "Okay, Courtney, geez. Umm . . . Is this your first time in America?"

I laughed. The question seemed absurd given how close to the border we were. "Hardly," I answered. "My mom's parents used to own a little Christmas tree farm down in Pennsylvania. We used to go on holiday breaks before my father was voted into office and my mother started her own firm. My cousins would go, too. It was a big thing." I paused. "Fun," I added, as an afterthought.

He nodded thoughtfully. "'Used to?'" He questioned.

"They died a few years ago. They left it to my mother, and she sold it."

"Oh. Sorry," he mumbled.

I shook my head. "Really, don't worry about it. It was a long time ago – nine or ten years. I miss the ordeal more than anything. I don't think I've seen my cousins since. Our holidays are kind of quiet now."

He cleared his throat and said in a louder voice, "Which is why you're going to love this, Court. The whole family will be there: you'll meet Ma and Pa, Nonna, my brothers Carson, Conner, and Caleb, Caleb's wife, Hannah – that's whose house, we'll be at – Aunt Abigail, not to mention my cousins . . ."

"Jesus," I said under my breath.

He glanced over. "What?"

"Nothing. Just a lot of people, that's all." My nuclear family had inadequately prepared me for something like this.

"You'll be fine," he said, waving a hand. Perhaps sensing my apprehension, he moved to turn on the radio. "Aw, I love this song! 'Oh, the boy's a slag, the best you ever had, the best you ever had is just a memory . . ." He started singing along with the music. "You don't know this song?"

I shook my head smiling at how much he loved to sing. I knew he would deny it the second I mentioned it, but he did.

He made a quiet 'tut' sound, opened the car hood, and cranked up the volume.

"Duncan! My hair!" I exclaimed.

"You'll be fine!" He yelled over the music. "'Flicking through a little book of sex tips, remember when the boys were all electric.'" Before I could realize what happed, he stood up and began driving the car with his knees.

We were on a long, straight road, with no one around us, but the shock of the situation caused me to gasp. "Duncan! Get down from there right now!"

"No can do, princess! This song is killer!"

"You're going to kill us if you don't get down from there!" My words were full of worry, but I was smiling. The recklessness was half the fun of being with Duncan. And there was something else: I had come to feel rather safe with him. Completely irrational and baseless, but nonetheless, with him, I felt secure.

"'Where did you go? Where did you go? Oh.'" After the chorus finished, he carefully maneuvered back into his seat. "Happy?" He asked, grinning.

I just shook my head, feeling partially like I was in a dream. As he sang along with the rest of the song, I closed my eyes and put my hands high in the air, feeling the cool chill numb my fingers and the wind whip around the sleeves of my jacket.

We spent the rest of the car ride listening to music, singing the songs we each knew as they came on the radio. The road began to curve again, and I took the new sights in with wide, curious eyes. The autumnal leaves were falling down like pieces into place, setting the scene for one of the warmest holiday seasons I was to ever have, one that once it was over, would remain frozen in my mind, would haunt me for years.

-/-

"Duncan! We were just wondering when you'd get here!" A pretty blonde woman with short hair in a red sweater engulfed him in a hug. When she pulled away, I recognized her blue eyes instantly. "And you must be, Courtney!"

"Yes, it's great to meet you, Mrs. Rossi," I smiled, relieved that Duncan had at the very least let his family know I was coming.

"Please, call me Emily," she smiled warmly. "Well come in, come in, I don't mean to make you stand in the doorway all night! Nonna made risotto."

Duncan took my hand and pulled me through the threshold. The home was chilly, likely from the door being opened for a prolonged moment, but something about the place still felt like home. Duncan let go of my hand and began taking his coat off, and I followed suit, leaving my scarf on the coat hanger, as well. I wore a plaid flannel and blue jeans and was happy that I didn't seem to be underdressed.

-/-

I met all of the relatives Duncan mentioned in the car and then some. His mother was as kind as I expected, after reading her letter to Duncan on the island; she had a quick wit about her, and I could see a lot of similarities between her and her son. His father was much more stern, but being around his wife and family seemed to put him in a good mood. I was surprised to find that most of his extended family, too, worked in the law enforcement field, but despite being in a room full of cops, they were a lot more relaxed than I expected. There were bottles and bottles of rose flowing – I tried to refuse, but Nonna wouldn't have it, saying that if there was one thing an Italian family gathering required, it was wine ("Damn the law!" she exclaimed) – and after a couple of sweet glasses, I was feeling much more at ease myself. His brothers were as one would expect three of Duncan's brothers to be – very playful, but at the same time, they had toned some of their horseplay and childish antics down enough to hold steady careers and begin to start their own families.

"Courtney, come here, I need to show you something!" Duncan's mom called from the kitchen.

I looked to Duncan, but he just shrugged, and turned back to continue his avid conversation with his eldest brother about the latest car he was working on in the shop. I headed over to the kitchen, where Emily was gesturing to a photo album on the counter. "I thought you'd like to see this. Duncan when he was little."

"Oh my God," I grinned. There he was, a little kid with glasses sitting in red pajamas on top of a twin-sized bed. His hair wasn't styled into a Mohawk yet, but his bangs were colored key-lime green. "Has he always had green hair?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Emily just laughed. "Oh, no - he did that after his dad forced him to be on the tee ball team, just to tick him off. It kind of stuck."

"Aw, Ma, really? Come on." Duncan had entered the kitchen, cheeks flush with embarrassment. It was the first time I could remember seeing him blush.

He reached to grab the photo album, but his mother snatched it up just in time. "Not a chance," she laughed. "I'll show you more later, Courtney."

"Looking forward to it," I giggled. Moving closer to Duncan, I looked up at him, grinning. "Tee ball team?"

He rolled his eyes. "It was dumb. I wanted to do wrestling, but my dad said I did too much with my brothers at home already."

"And the glasses?" I asked, smirking.

"Contacts have saved my life."

-/-

Sunday rolled around far too quickly, as Duncan and I pulled our coats on, preparing to get going on our three-hour drive back to Ottawa. While he was saying his final good-byes to his brothers, I busied myself fastening the buttons on my coat.

"That's a nice necklace you've got there."

I looked up. Duncan's grandmother was looking pointedly at me, a small smile on her face.

"Oh . . . yes . . . Duncan, um . . . I hope it's okay that I have it," I finished awkwardly, fiddling with the charm. I remember him telling me the necklace had originally belonged to her.

She smiled warmly. "Of course it's okay, passerotta. I don't know how Duncan managed to find someone so quickly who was so worthy of wearing it, but I'm sure glad he did."

Duncan's mother found her way into the conversation. "Well I was sure he would. Duncan's such a catch, and he's got such a big heart."

This caught the attention of the rest of the group. "Aw, Ma."

"That is the biggest lie you've ever told, Ma. You'd be psycho if you could've predicted Duncan would end up bringing home someone as nice as Courtney," his brother Carson snickered.

I flushed scarlet.

"You be good to her," Caleb warned Duncan.

"Don't worry, Caleb," Conner laughed. "Courtney's poker skills alone give me that idea that she can handle herself."

"You boys have been gambling in this house?" Nonna asked, her tone elevated. "On a holiday? Porca miseria!"

"And that's our cue," Duncan said, ushering me out.

The drive home was mostly quiet, the pair of us lost in thought. As I watched the leaves fall, I imagined coming home to that family every holiday for the rest of my life. I imagined what it would feel like to come back one Christmas and tell them we were engaged, another Christmas and tell them we were pregnant, another Christmas watching our children run around Hannah and Caleb's big yard, maybe playing with their kids, too. My thoughts were private, and I shamelessly let my imagination run. I hope Duncan was doing the same, too.

It wasn't until much later that I realized I had left my scarf on the coat rack.