One day before Thanksgiving

Cooper's sitting on his couch with a beer in his hand, looking at his phone, Violet's name highlighted in his contact list.

His door opens and Charlotte walks in. She rolls her eyes when she sees him. "Cooper, this is gettin' ridiculous."

He turns his head slowly, taking a sip of his beer at the same time. "Hey."

She smiles and sits on the couch next to him. "I got you a bagel."

He takes the bag and looks inside. "Sesame."

She nods and rests her hand on his thigh. She slides her hand up and down and rests her head on his shoulder. "She's been home for two and a half weeks, Coop."

He shifts on the couch and pulls a piece of the bagel off, popping it into his mouth.

"Have you talked to her? Gone to see her?"

He shakes his head.

She brushes her hand against his cheek and rests her chin on his shoulder. "You gotta stop blamin' yourself for this. You gotta stop blamin' me for this."

"If I had come home two minutes earlier, even one minute, I'd have been inside the house when you called, and I would have been able to stop it."

"I don't know what else to say." She stands up. "I brought you the bagel so you wouldn't starve to death." She pauses. "You need to take a long shower, change your clothes, and shave. You need to pull yourself together and stop lookin' like a caveman."

He takes another sip of his beer, finishing it.

"I was comin' over here to see if you wanted to have sex, but clearly, you're not in the mood."

"Sit down."

"Cooper—."

"Sit down," he repeats.

She nods and sits back down next to him.

He sets his beer bottle on the side table and turns towards her. He cups her cheek in his hand and pushes his lips against hers, letting his tongue slide against the inside of her cheek. He tangles his hand through her hair as he kisses her.

She swallows and pushes him back. "You're forcin' this, Coop. I'm not an idiot." She smoothes down her shirt and fixes her hair. "I'll stay." She rests her head in his lap and straightens out. She rubs his knee and smiles. "Don't force it. There's no fun in that."

He strokes her hair, letting his fingers rake through her short blonde hair. He brushes his hand against warm cheek and smiles. "I'm fine."

"Think about callin' her, Coop. We almost broke up 'cause you were livin' with her and now you can't even pick up the phone and call her. She's alive. The baby's fine. Stop beatin' yourself up about this. What's done is done."

"I love you," he whispers, continuing to stroke her hair.

She smiles, placing a soft kiss on his leg, and lets out a breath. "So what're your plans for Thanksgivin'?"

"You asked me this time."

She laughs. "I did."

"We usually go to Addison's, but I don't know what's gonna happen this year 'cause of Violet. I'll probably just stay home."

She rolls onto her back and bends her legs up. She looks up at him and smiles. She rests her hand on his chest and arches an eyebrow. "I can dress up as a sexy pilgrim and tell ya about what really happened on the Mayflower—better yet, I can show ya."

He smiles, feeling a little better. "Ok."

"Hey, that was actually enthusiastic."

He pulls her hair back, twirling a piece around his finger. "Uh-huh."

She sits up and presses her lips against his, resting her hand on his chest and her other hand on the back of his hand. She angles her chin, gently sucking on his bottom lip, letting out a soft moan as he kisses her back. "I can give ya a preview now if you want?"

He nods, feeling a lot better, actually. "I want."

She smirks. "Well, come on then." She hops off the couch and disappears into the bedroom.

He turns his head and watches as she closes the divider. He stands up and follows her.

Thanksgiving

Charlotte's standing in the hallway in front of Cooper's apartment. The smell of Thanksgiving dinner is strangling her from behind and to the side, and her stomach rumbles a little louder than she wishes it would. She's been at the hospital all day, and she hasn't had time to eat anything more substantial than a granola bar. The Thanksgiving festivities—err—stupidities started early at St. Ambrose.

She rests her hand on her stomach trying to silence it. She just stands there, taking in deep breaths, smelling the food. Gah, I'm starvin'. She rings the bell finally and clutches her coat tight around her.

The door opens and Cooper's standing there in jeans and a sports jacket. He smiles and ushers her inside.

She blinks and her stomach growls again.

"Hungry?"

"You could say that."

"I thought we could eat first—though I'm sure I'll be eating plenty afterwards." That warrants him a slap and a smirk from Charlotte. "Whatcha got under that coat?"

She unties her coat and lets it fall off her shoulders.

He takes it off completely, flinging it over the couch back. He blinks and rests his hands on her hips, pulling her close to him. He presses his lips against hers and slides his hand up her side, brushing it over her chest, her neck, her cheek, and finally running it through her hair. He lets out a breath against her lips and pulls back.

She looks into his eyes and gets his jacket off quick, tossing it over hers. She keeps her eyes locked on his as she unbuttons his shirt. Her lips curve into a devilish smile as she slides her hand along his side, pressing her fingers into his skin. She stands on her tippy toes and kisses him.

He lowers his head and reciprocates.

"Dinner can wait." She sucks on his bottom lip and lets out a breath. She smirks and he follows her into the bedroom.

After dinner, Charlotte's curled up on the couch, sipping coffee, with a plate of apple pie resting in her lap.

Cooper walks over to her and sits down. "I got whipped cream for the pie."

"Oh, Freedman, you've been holdin' out on me." She takes the canister and sprays it on her lips and in her mouth. She leans closer to him and kisses him.

"Mmmm," he mumbles as he presses his lips against hers and runs his tongue along her lips. He breaks the kiss and swallows. He takes the canister from her and spays some whipped cream on her exposed chest, where his button-down shirt is open. He lowers his head and brushes his lips against her collarbone, running his tongue along the line of cream.

She melts into the couch cushion and arches her back as his tongue makes contact with her skin. She lets out a noisy breath and closes her eyes. She lifts her hand and runs it through his hair. She swallows, feeling him kiss down her chest. She's getting all tingly again. She lifts his chin up and closes the gap between their lips, hooking her arm around his neck. "Ah."

He smirks, pulling back and looking at her. "We'll have some fun after dessert."

She nods and sprays some whipped cream on her pie. She hands it to him and smiles. She picks up her fork and takes a bite. She swallows and licks her lips. "God, that tastes like heaven."

"I made it."

"You did not."

He laughs. "I made all that stuff."

"And I'm the Queen of England."

"Really? I didn't know. I'm dating royalty. That makes me like the King, right?"

She slaps him. "You actually cooked me dinner?"

"I've done it before."

"I know, but this is, this is Thanksgivin', it's big, it takes time."

"Well, you're worth the time and energy." He kisses her quickly on the lips. "Mmmm, cinnamon."

She blinks and smiles at him, taking another bite of apple pie. She shifts on the couch and leans against him a little.

He brushes her hair out of her face and smiles. His phone rings on the side table and he glances at the caller ID. He turns away and stares down at his pie.

"You not gonna get it?"

"It's Violet."

"And you're not gonna get it?" She asks, her eyebrows raised. She has momentarily stopped eating dessert as she stares at him.

"I'll let the machine get it."

She sets her plate on the cushion and scoots closer to him. She rests her hand on his shoulder and hooks her other arm around his. She places a soft kiss on his cheek. "Are you ever gonna go see her? Talk to her?"

"You hate Violet."

"Hate's a strong word, and besides, you don't. You love her, in the brother sister kinda way, and although your relationship drives me nuts, and I can't understand it, you love her. This isn't your fault. What happened to her is not your fault. She'd want you to visit her, she'd want you to call her, or take her calls at least."

He looks at her and brushes his lips against her forehead. "I can't—I just can't." He lets out a breath.

"Will a cheesy card make you feel better?"

He smiles. "Maybe."

She stands up and walks over to the door and bends down. "Stop starin' at my ass, Coop."

"I wasn't—I mean, I—."

"Relax, Coop. It ain't nothin' you haven't seen before." She laughs and grabs the card out of her purse. She walks back over to the couch and plops down next to him. "I'm flattered, really." She smiles and picks up her plate again, taking a bite of her pie. "Well, open it." She says after swallowing.

He rips it open and scoots back on the couch. He looks at the front cover, which has two turkeys on a beach. "Hey honey, did you remember your sunscreen?" He reads the bubble over the first turkey. He opens the card and smiles. "Damn it, honey...Here's hoping your Thanksgiving turns out better than that poor guy's." He presses his lips against her cheek.

She leans into the kiss and turns her face, kissing him on the lips. She sets her empty plate on the coffee table and takes a sip of her coffee. She leans against Cooper and rests her head on his shoulder. She hooks her arm around his and smiles. "Feel better?"

He nods and kisses the top of her head. "A little."

"Do me a favor and go see her tomorrow or the next day. You need to get your clothes and she needs you, Coop."

"You actually like Violet?"

"No—Well, I don't dislike her…all that much—but this has nothin' to do with me."

"I just can't, Char. I don't care how many times you say it or how many times I say it, this is still my fault. I was right there and I heard something and I just walked away. I walked away from my best friend when she needed me. This is my fault." He pauses. "Maybe you should just go."

"Cooper."

"Ok, I don't mean that. I want you to stay."

She lifts her head and turns his face towards hers. She places a soft kiss on his lips and brushes her hand against his cheek.

He stands up, and takes her plate, stacking it on top of his. "You want another piece?"

She shakes her head. "I'm full. I couldn't eat another bite if you paid me to do it."

He smiles and walks into the kitchen. He comes back out and hands her a card. "Happy Thanksgiving."

She takes the peach colored envelope and rips it open with her pinky nail. She pulls the card out and looks at the front cover, which is a picture of a turkey with two speech bubbles above it. "Am I wrong to be nervous when I wake up to find myself stuffed, naked, and basted?" She pauses and then reads the second speech bubble. "Oops. I think I just made my own gravy." She lets out a soft chuckle and opens the card, reading it. "Good Gravy! I hope your Thanksgiving is stuffed with good times." She plants a kiss on his lips and smiles against them. She breaks away and picks up her coffee cup. She takes a sip of her steaming hot coffee and leans back on the couch.

"You look good in that shirt—but you look good in everything."

"You know what I look best in?"

"What?"

"Nothin' at all—and by nothin' at all, I mean—" she puts her cup on the table and starts to unbutton the shirt. She unhooks her bra and stands up. She wiggles out of her panties and lets the shirt and bra fall to the floor. She leans into him, her lips inches away from his, her breasts brushing against his chest. "I mean…Nothin'. At. All." She touches his lips with hers before pulling back. She smirks and walks into the bedroom. "You comin'?"

He nods, standing up quickly. He holds his head, a little dizzy from his sudden jolt, and follows her, grabbing the canister of whipped cream from the table. He's still feeling guilty and he's still a little down, but he has a naked woman in his bedroom, and not just any woman, nope, he has the woman he loves sitting naked on his bed.

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