“You won’t mind?” Dexter asked quietly, gazing at his feet. “I…never have anything to do on Thanksgiving.”
Then it was the truth. He really just didn’t want to impose. But it also meant that he’d be alone.
Colin grabbed hold of his hand and pointed up at the board. He and Lena explained their tradition. They even let Dexter pick the spot to go this year.
Dexter’s choice put them back on Long Island for the day, in a town almost two hours away. They couldn’t even figure out how to pronounce the name of it and needed to ask when they got there. They found an open diner and spent three hours ordering slices of the different pies.