The Longest Five Years (Completed)

Luke

A/N: Give the title track "Litost" by X Ambassadors a listen above! The flashback in this chapter is inspired by it, and it makes for the perfect soundtrack.

Present Day

My feet are about to freeze to the front porch. I lean in a little so my elbow presses the doorbell. My arms are full with paper grocery sacks; multiple trips in over a foot of snow are out of the question. And just when I'm sure my lips are blue, I hear a squealing from inside and little feet thumping toward the front door.

"Daddy's home!" Emmy squeals as she opens the door. Although my knit cap is pulled down over my ears, I can still hear Reagan in the background before I step inside.

"Emmy, baby, you can't open the door without me being right here, okay?" she says gently, tucking my little girl's hair behind her ears before her eyes travel up to mine, relieved.

"Hi," she whispers with a smile. She's beautiful. Her hair is twisted in a braid. She's wearing an apron and it's smattered with flour. I'm so caught up in the sight of her and her interaction with my little girl that I nearly forgot I'm still on the front porch. "Oh my god. Wow," Reagan's eyes widen at the amount of food I picked up, and she steps out to take a few bags from me. "What's that look on your face? Get inside before you turn into an ice sculpture."

"Daddy. Did you remember the applesauce?" Emmy blinks up at me as I stomp the snow off my boots and step out of them.

"Cinnamon apple, right?" I cringe, teasing. I know it's her favorite. She nods and spins in a circle. "I have to make my pie now. Bye, Daddy!" She waves and runs back into the kitchen, where she climbs back up on the step stool next to Reagan at the table.

My socks are completely soaked through, the bottom of my jeans wet, too. I pull off my hat and unzip my coat, padding off barefoot to the kitchen for a moment, where I find Reagan unloading the bags. I picked up a few necessities to get us through the blizzard plus a few items we needed for today.

"I can't believe you went out in this. We could've made do with what we had. We had the turkey..." she says on a sigh, turning to to face me. She frowns and her hands go to my cheeks. They're red and windburned and her warm skin feels amazing. "I'm glad you made it home okay."

I knew as soon as I stepped out of bed this morning that we'd have to cancel going to the Abbott's for Thanksgiving. We're buried under a foot of snow and driving too far is out of the question. But I can't say I'm too broken up about it. I'm happy to be home with my girls today – it's the silver lining.

"Me too. It was worse than I thought. I saw two wrecks on the way, and the store is less than a mile away. They haven't plowed many of the side streets," I tell her. "But nonetheless, if we're gonna be stuck here all day for Thanksgiving, we're not having turkey with potato chips and french fries." I tell her seriously and she smiles and rolls her eyes. "Seriously! How long has it been since you actually celebrated Thanksgiving? Like stuff your gut with too much food and pass out on the couch kind of celebrated?"

"Not since I left," she tells me. "I'm well overdue, I guess."

"Exactly. And even if we're cutting corners and it's only partially homemade, we're doing this," I tell her, bouncing my eyebrows. "I expect you to fall into a tryptophan coma in my lap on the couch later, and if you don't, I'll know I failed," I tease and laughs, her fingers sliding into the hair just behind my ears.

"Reagan!" Emmy tugs on her apron and looks up at us. "The pie!"

"Sorry, Luke," Reagan tells me with a playful smile. "I forgot we're on a tight schedule."

"By all means," I say with a wide smile, holding my hands up in surrender. "Thanks for nixing the whole deep fried turkey idea. I don't think I could stand being out there for even one more minute. I think I'm going to hop in the shower and try to thaw out. I'll be down in a little while."