"Come back to bed," I whisper with one eye open. Hunter is hunched over his computer, his eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched up. I've spent the entire week at Hunter's, aside from a couple of trips back to my apartment to pick up clean clothes.

"Just a few more minutes," Hunter sighs as his cell phone rings. "Sorry babe, I've got to take this. I'll be right back."

I've always thought that if you become a CEO or a high-level executive that you have the freedom to choose your own schedule, that you'd have more free time. Boy, was I wrong. Hunter's had to work late nights most of this week. Granted he was able to do it from home, but I can sense that he's stressed. Apparently, there's a crisis at Fairview that requires urgent attention. I don't mind though, because the moments that I have him to myself are blissful.

Being in love is an exuberant feeling. I love you. Those eight little letters somehow shifted the world. Everything became brighter, bolder, sweeter. This stupid goofy grin hasn't left my face for seven days. I'm worried I'll get premature wrinkles from all the smiling. Kimmy recommended a Korean snail serum in case I was serious, but not before pointing out the irony of using the L-word so quickly since it's something I always give her shit for. I fed her some cliché line, like 'when you know you know'. I felt ridiculous saying it, but for whatever reason, it was true.

Hunter's shield is virtually invisible now. There's no more one-worded answers or vague responses. Our conversations are colorful, vivid, and void of all pretenses. When Hunter gets going, whether the topic is music, traveling, or conspiracy theories, it's virtually impossible to shut him up. Heck, he even has opinions on Friends. We binge-watched a few episodes and the next day he bought me a lobster charm necklace, I've never cried so hard from happiness in my life. Could I be any more in love?

My phone vibrates under my pillow and I sluggishly bring it up to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi honey, it's mom." I check the caller ID and I don't recognize the number.

"Where are you calling me from?"

"Oh! One of the nurses took me to the mall to get a new phone and a SIM card."

I try to banish the image of my mom's car submerged in water from my head. "That's great, mom. Are you ready to go home today? Hunter and I will pick you up around 2 p.m."

"I am so excited to get out of this place," my mother exclaims. "The house is probably covered in cobwebs but I'd rather dust from dusk to dawn than spend one more night sleeping in this awful bed. I miss my memory foam."

"Mom, don't worry about cleaning. That will be taken care of. All you'll need to do tonight is relax and have fun."

"Have fun? Delilah, honey. What're you planning?" Always the worrywart. 

"Nothing," I chuckle. "Don't worry about it. I'll see you in a few hours, ok?"

"Ok, but Lilah-" Her anxiety is palpable over the phone.

"Mom, can you relax? Just trust me."

"Fine, fine," she exhales. "Oh, and honey?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy Thanksgiving."

"You too, mom. See you soon."

I toss my phone on the nightstand and begin to get out of bed.

I've recruited Kimmy, Hunter, and Jack to help me clean the house today before my mom's return. Jack was reluctant at first until Kimmy whispered something saucy in his ear which made him perk right up. I don't even want to know what she promised to do for him if he cooperated. Knowing her, it's probably something that's illegal in several countries.

As I finish zipping up my jeans, I catch Hunter leaning on the door frame with a lopsided grin on his face.

"What?"

"Just admiring." Hunter walks to his closet and starts getting dressed. "I was thinking..."

"Mm?"

"We should cook your mom a thanksgiving dinner tonight. I know you said you were just going to order food, but we've got the time and she'd probably like a home-cooked meal."

"That's really sweet, babe." I pout from the cuteness of his consideration. "Are you sure it's not too much work? You know it'll mostly be you doing the cooking unless burnt Brussel sprouts are a new culinary fad." I can make breakfast and that's about it.

"I don't mind. There's this new baked potato recipe I've wanted to try out." Hunter tosses on a forest green hoodie. "You bake it once, then scoop out the center and mix in chives, bacon and sour cream, and then you bake it again. It looks very appetizing."

I laugh as I slip on my socks. "Alright, Gordon Ramsey, the kitchen is yours tonight."

"I'm sure Jack will help me."

"Jack cooks?"

"No, but he's very good at following a recipe."

"Ah yes, must be the scientist in him. Maybe he'll make the gravy in a beaker. Or add-" Before I can finish my knee-slapping joke Hunter runs up to me and tosses me over his shoulder. "Put me down, you ogre."

"Ogre?" Hunter carries me to the front door and plops me down. "I'll show you ogre." Hunter begins tickling me like a teenager while making growling noises. My laughs sound more like pained squeals.

"Enough," I beg. "Please, stop. Oh, my God."

Hunter retreats, his expression laced with smugness. "Good to go, Donkey?" he asks as he calls the elevator.

I frown. "Donkey? Really?"

"If I'm Shrek, then you're donkey."

I run my hands through my tangled hair. "Shouldn't I be Fiona?"

Hunter slides into his shoes and shrugs as he looks me up and down. "Nah, you're definitely Donkey."

I shoot him an unimpressed glare. "I think I liked you better when you didn't say much."

Hunter chuckles as we get into the elevator. "Oh, really?" He shrugs. "Ok." Hunter's face immediately neutralizes and he remains silent the entire ride down to the parkade. I poke him a couple of times to elicit a reaction. Nothing.

As we approach the BMW, I decide to let him win this round. "Fine," I exclaim. "I'll be Donkey."

Hunter flashes me an impeccable smile and wraps me in a bear hug. "Will you make me waffles in the morning?" We should have never watched Shrek.

I bite my tongue. This is your boyfriend. You love him. Do not punch him. I take a deep breath. "Yes," I mutter begrudgingly then get into the passenger seat.

See? Guard's down. Pure unfiltered Hunter Carlisle. Sassy, isn't he? 

We stop for groceries and cleaning supplies just outside of the city. I drag my feet as I follow Hunter around the grocery store. How many dang spices does one meal require? I've never been a foodie. Put two steaks in front of me and I couldn't tell you which one is the better cut. To me, they all taste the same. Oh, and according to Hunter, dousing your meat in HP sauce is sacrilegious. Whatever, food snob.

After the shopping is done, we get back on the freeway and uneasy knots begin forming in my stomach. The closer we get to my parent's house, the more anxious I feel. I haven't been able to step foot into my childhood home since the accident. That's part of the reason I had Andrew drop off my mom's mail, which I just realized I never got rerouted to my apartment. Ugh, the mailbox is going to be packed.

We pull into the driveway and my eyes dart to the grey two-story colonial-style house, with navy blue shutters and a mustard-colored door. I remember it took two weeks for my dad to convince my mom that an orange door was hip. She hated it until the string of compliments from our neighbors started pouring in, then it was all 'Yes, it was my idea' and 'It was a risky choice but I'm so glad you like it'. My dad didn't mind though, he loved seeing her happy.

Kimmy and Jack hop out of their car and join us at the front door. Kimmy waves her hands at me. She's wearing elbow long hot pink cleaning gloves with feathers around the edges.

"Look!" she shrieks. "I found them on Amazon! Oh! And I got matching blue ones for you!" She turns to Jack who reaches into his jacket and pulls out an identical pair.

"These are so cute!" I laugh as I slide on the gloves and punch in the door code. If you're going to clean, you might as well do it while looking glamorous.

I give everyone a quick tour of the house, and show Hunter the kitchen so he can put the turkey in the oven. We divide the house up into three sections, now that Hunter is cooking instead of cleaning.

Kimmy runs to the stereo and plugs her phone into the AUX cord. "All right! Let the cleaning commence." 

To my surprise, the house wasn't nearly as dirty as I imagined. It took only a few hours to clean from top to bottom. Jack was sneezing profusely towards the end, perhaps he has an undiagnosed allergy to dust. Undiagnosed because the man probably hasn't dusted a day in his life. Regardless, we felt bad for the chap, so Kimmy and I agreed to let him go help Hunter in the kitchen instead.

Kimmy falls down on the couch as she removes her gloves. "I'm exhausted!" she admits as her eyes flutter shut.

"You can take a nap if you want," I suggest as I cover her with a throw blanket. "I just need to check the mail then I'll go get my mom."

Kimmy inaudibly mutters something and covers her eyes with her forearm. I turn off the lights and make my way to the kitchen.

Hunter is glazing vegetables while Jack meticulously chops an onion.

"See how I'm not crying, Lilah?" Jack holds the chef's knife in the air. "That's because I put this bad boy in the freezer for thirty minutes." With a smirk on his face Jack turns to Hunter. "Now, Hunt, please explain why freezing the onion prevents your eyes from tearing up?"

"Really, Jack? We're doing this again?" Hunter huffs.

"Come on, Hunter! Don't you want to impress your girl?" Jack winks at me and I giggle.

"Fine." Hunter crosses his arms. "Onions contain amino-acids called sulfoxides," he begins, his voice completely monotone. I press my lips together to prevent myself from laughing. He's hating this. "When you cut into the skin, a chemical reaction causes odor to sting your eyes. Freezing the onion slows down the reaction and prevents the chemical gas from being released into the air." Hunter scowls at Jack. "Happy? Did I pass, doctor?"

"Solid A-minus," Jack nods. "I didn't think you'd actually remember."

"So, you were just trying to embarrass me, huh?"

"What's a big brother for?"

Hunter charges at Jack and the two begin to quietly wrestle.

I roll my eyes as I whistle to get their attention. "Boys, let's try to not destroy my mother's kitchen, yeah?" Hunter and Jack both murmur an apology. "Ok, thank you. I'm going to go pick her up now so I'll be back in half an hour."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Hunter asks as he jabs Jack one more time in the stomach. Dear God, they're children.

"You can stay here and finish up." I eye the scattered mess on the counter. "Maybe tidy up a bit?"

"Okay, baby." Hunter walks towards me and kisses my forehead. "See you in a few."

"Thank you." I hug Hunter and nuzzle my head into his chest. "Everything smells delicious."

I wave goodbye to Jack and grab Hunter's car keys off the counter.

"Don't reverse park anywhere!" Hunter calls out with a hint of worry in his voice just before the front door slams shut. You back up into a pole one time!

I hop into the driver's seat, adjust the seat and mirror, and begin driving to Happy Living. This is it. She's coming home. This is a fresh start for us. For her. Based on our past several conversations, she seems to be doing better, both physically and mentally. She told me she's finally seeing a psychologist, and that the sessions are helping her work through her trauma. My mom's never been one to admit she needs help, so seeing her open up her heart and soul to a complete stranger is promising.

I smile as I pull up to the entrance. My mom is sitting on the visitor's bench, a book in hand. Her auburn hair glows from the dim November sun, and she looks angelic. She peers up from the riveting tale of Tom Sawyer as I tap her shoulder.

"Honey!" My mom tosses the book on the bench and wraps her arms around me. There's something about a mother's hug that makes you feel whole. Safe.

"Mommy," I whimper as her grip tightens around me and I hold her like she might slip away. I try to suppress the impending tears. I didn't think I would become this emotional but hearing her beating heart, and her gentle and comforting voice rattles my barriers and I break down. 

"Shh. It's ok, honey," My mother whispers as I sob into her shoulder. "I promise you, my sweet child. I will never leave you again. Ever. I promise."

"I know." I wipe my eyes with my sleeve and catch my breath. "I love you, mom."

"I love you more, baby." My mom's hazel eyes twinkle as she pets my head. "You've been so strong these past few months. You've taken care of me, even when I might have not deserved it. I appreciate everything you've done for me and I promise you that I will never let you down again."

"Thanks, mom. Let's go home." I take a deep breath. "I hope you're hungry."

"Starving," she admits as I help her into the passenger seat and then slide into the driver's side. "Is this Hunter's car?"

"Yeah, he's back at the house making dinner." I start the engine and turn onto the main road. "Kimmy and Jack are there as well. I was thinking we could all eat together. Unless it's too much for you."

"Don't be silly, Delilah. The only people I've talked to the past few weeks have been doctors and nurses. I'd love to have dinner with you and your friends."

I chuckle. "Jack's a doctor, remember?"

"As long as he doesn't discuss my medical history, I'm sure It'll be fine."

"No promises."

"Well, I suppose I can kick him out if he gets annoying."

"Mom!" My eyes widen as I look at her.

"Eyes on the road, Delilah." And here's mom.

As soon as I twist the front door handle, a giant piece of cardboard reading 'Welcome Home Anita!' gets thrust into our faces.

"Anita!" Kimmy lowers the sign and jumps up and down like a rambunctious chihuahua. I guess the nap rebooted her energy levels. "Welcome home!"

"Aw, sweetie." My mom runs her fingers over her name on the sign. "You are so thoughtful. Thank you."

Kimmy drags my mom to the kitchen. "Gentle, Kim," I warn her. Kimmy rolls her eyes.

"Anita, this is my boyfriend Jack." Kimmy waves towards the older Carlisle.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am." Jack wipes his hand on the towel draped over his shoulder. "Kimmy's told me a lot about you. You're like a second mom to her."

"Oh, don't say that to Yoona," My mom laughs. "But yes, Kimmy is very dear to me as well." She turns to Hunter. "Hunter, everything smells heavenly. You really didn't have to do all this."

"It's no bother, truly." Hunter pulls the medium-sized turkey from the oven. "It's our first Thanksgiving together. We might as well do it properly."

"Mom, why don't you go get settled while Kimmy and I set the table," I suggest. "Do you need help up the stairs?"

"Honey, I appreciate the concern, but I think I'll be fine. There are railings for a reason." My mother slowly heads up the stairs. I watch her with hawk-like eyes. She really shouldn't be climbing stairs alone in her condition but I know she hates being coddled.

"She's doing great, Lilah," Hunter notes. "Have a little faith."

I give Hunter a grateful kiss before Kimmy and I begin to set the table. Deciding this is as good a time as ever, I pull out our fancy china from the top cupboard. I don't remember the last time we had a full-blown family dinner in this house. We set up all the placemats, plates, and cutlery as Hunter and Jack bring out the turkey, potatoes, vegetables, and sauces.

My mother joins us downstairs just as Kimmy finishes lighting the last candle.

"Turkey feast can officially begin!" Kimmy beams as we all take our seats.

Looking at the joyous smiling faces around me, I feel peaceful. With everyone's plates stacked high with culinary goodness, the conversation starts to flow. It's hard to believe that my mother hasn't known Jack or Hunter for long because their chemistry is indisputable. It's like they've been lifelong friends with years of built-up trust and rapport. My heart feels full, overflowing with gratitude.

"Oh!" Kimmy slams her fork down on her plate, and my mother and I flinch. This is the good china! Kimmy laughs nervously seeing our reactions. "Sorry." She slowly places the fork on the side of her plate. "I think we should all go around in a circle and say what we're thankful for!"

"Ooo, good idea!" I agree.

"Ok. I'll go first!" Kimmy claps. "I am thankful for my fam jam, even though they can be a little crazy sometimes. For my little munchkin Ketchup, for my hot boyfriend Jack, and for the Sterling women at this table." Kimmy smiles and then looks at Hunter. "Oh, and I'm thankful for Hunter because he makes my best friend happy."

"Good save," Hunter mutters so only I can hear him. I giggle as I squeeze his knee.

"Jack?" Kimmy nudges her boyfriend, who wipes his mouth.

"Alright. Today I am thankful for family, new friends, and this gorgeous girl by my side," Jack muses but then Kimmy frowns and mouths 'mustard'. "Oh, how could I forget. And my dog, of course."

"I'll go next!" I volunteer. "I am thankful that my mom is finally back home, for Kimmy and just absolutely everything about her, and I'm thankful that I'm a flustered mess in awkward situations, otherwise I wouldn't have met Hunter or Jack." Everyone laughs and my mom looks at me confused. "I'll tell you later!" I forgot I didn't mention how we met to her yet. "Hunter?"

"I-" he begins. "I am thankful for my brother, who always has my back. My amazing mom, and for you, Lilah, for showing me how fun life could be." Hunter leans over and kisses my temple.

"You four are just precious." My mom tries to discreetly wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. "I guess it's my turn. I am thankful for every single person at this table for making this day so fantastic. Kimmy, you know I love you like a daughter, and Delilah, my sweet honey bee, you are my whole heart." My mom sniffles. "As for you boys, you both are just gems. So thank you, all of you."

"Mom, don't cry."

My mother exhales as she chuckles. "Sorry, I'm such a mess right now, but I'm just...happy."

Happiness is contagious. The rest of the dinner flew by with anecdotes, childhood stories, and laughter. So much laughter. I told my mom I would spend the night. She shouldn't be alone her first day back at home. Jack, Kimmy, and Hunter help clean up and head home. Hunter wanted to stay but got called away with a work emergency. It takes a total of three minutes to fall asleep that night. If you don't automatically crash after eating a turkey dinner, you clearly didn't eat enough.

I wake up feeling refreshed. The fresh aroma of coffee tickles my nose as I listlessly walk down the staircase.

"Good morning, honey. How did you sleep?"

"Like a rock," I yawn and pour myself a searing hot cup of dark roast. "How about you?"

"Amazing. I really did miss that memory foam," my mom laughs. "I think today I should do a little housekeeping. Did you bring all my mail?"

"Mom," I sigh. "Do you really need to do this now?" I only brought the upcoming bills, she doesn't need to have the ones that have already been paid.

"Delilah, I understand that you're worried but I am here and I am fine. You've taken on a lot of responsibility, but I'm back. So please, just get me the mail."

I walk to the hallway and pull out the small stack of letters from my purse. Oh, shit! I didn't check the mailbox yet. I jog outside and grab the letters stuffed inside the mailbox.

    Flipping through the envelopes, my eyes stop on a particularly thick one. I drop the mail on the dining room table and sit down.

"Mom?" I call out to the kitchen.

"Yes, honey?"

"Why do you have a letter from J. Hyatt and Associates LLP? Isn't that a law firm?"

"I don't know. Maybe it has to do with the accident?"

"Yeah, maybe." I rip open the manila envelope and read the first few lines.

Class Action Notice

Plaintiff: Terry Evans & all similarly situated individuals

Defendant: Fairview Pharmaceuticals

My eyes glaze over as I re-read the notice for the third time, my heart contorting in vicious pain and disbelief. 

...Class Action Suit against Fairview Pharmaceuticals...unknown side effects from the drug Profilatol including stroke, heart attack and death...rushed to market...falsifying testing results...compensation

"This-this can't be happening," I mutter to myself. "Please." 

"Honey," my mother's hazel orbs bury into mine as she sits down in front of me. "You look like you just saw a ghost. What's wrong?"

I look at her blankly and suck in a breath. "What was the name of the heart medicine dad was taking?" I ask, praying to every God that the answer isn't what I think it is.

"Why do you ask?" My mom's eyebrows furrow, and her eyes dart to the document in my hand. "Delilah...what is that?"

"Just answer the question, mom," I beg. "What was it called?" My voice falters.

"I think it was called-" she bites her lip. I can almost see the wheels turning in her brain, trying to remember. "Um." She pauses and then looks at me. "Oh! It was called Profilatol."