the size of his palm and wrapped in aluminum foil. I’m careful with the wrapping, not sure what I’m saving it for. Treating this entire meal as delicate now. I lift the lid and fabric pops out of the box. It’s small triangles and strings, all a beautiful mix of turquoise and deep blue. As I hold a piece in front of my face, I realize it’s a bathing suit, a very tiny string bikini. I raise my eyebrows at it.
“For Hawaii,” Noble says, his self fully restored.
“I’ll try it on as soon as we get home,” I say, and dig into our sushi.
* * *
It’s as if Thanksgiving is the day after my birthday. But in fact, it’s been over two weeks since I turned twenty-five. The weeks flash on their way past, and I still can’t keep up. Michelle and I are busy in the kitchen when the phone rings. Noble walks in and grabs the receiver.
“Oh hey, Happy Thanksgiving,” he says. Who would call here on Thanksgiving? “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,” he continues. “I’ll bring some leftovers in a little while.” With this I can tell he’s talking to Butch or Marie. Probably Marie since Butch talks on the phone as little as possible. Noble hangs up and I look at him, my hands covered with potato peels as I try and gather them up from the bottom of the sink.
“They’re not coming?”
“No. Marie said Butch isn’t feeling well. They’re going to hang back,” Noble says, and pulls a bottle of wine off the shelf in the mudroom.
“Oh. Maybe it’s his knee. I’ll check on him after dinner,” I say as Lily toddles into the room. She’s pulling BJ by the collar and stops every few steps to kiss and hug him. He loves her, but she’s tough on him. I always tell him some people’s love hurts, and Lily is one of those people. Noble pulls her off the poor dog.
“How about you and Uncle Nick make a list of all the things we’re thankful for?” he suggests. Lily delights in anything that begins with her and Uncle Nick. I hear him searching for paper and a crayon in the Lily Art Box we keep in the dining room. I lose track as Michelle pours herself a glass of wine and plops down at the kitchen table for the first time in the last few hours. Thank God she’s here. I wouldn’t know what the heck I was doing alone in the kitchen with a roasting pan.
“Butch didn’t have any family come to town?” Michelle asks, and takes a sip of her wine.
“No. Not this year.” I pour myself a glass.
“That’s nice.” She tips her head, acknowledging our secret conversation.
“It is. Especially for our first Thanksgiving together. I wouldn’t mind if he stayed away forever,” I say, and can hear Lily laughing at something Noble is saying.
“I think Noble and Sean agree.”
“Not you?” I ask, half joking with her.
“I don’t know. I guess I always thought you two would be together,” Michelle says, shocking me. I’m pretty sure Sean would kill her if he heard this. “Don’t get me wrong. I love how things are right now. I’m just a masochist, I guess.”
“You would have to be.” I nod and gulp some more wine.
* * *
Besides that crazy nonsense about Jason, Michelle was a huge help. Dinner was delicious and I couldn’t have done it without her. I took careful mental notes in case I ever have to pull it off alone. While Noble washes the cookware, I pack up the leftovers—one set for Sean and Michelle, one for our house, and a little of everything for Butch and Marie. Butch’s knee must be acting up again. He loves a meal hot out of the oven.
I bag the food and invite BJ to come with me while I deliver it to Butch’s. Seeing BJ might improve Butch’s mood. Somehow the sweetest dog in the entire world and the crustiest old man are perfect companions. Opposites really do attract. BJ and I cross Butch’s yard with my bag of leftovers. I pull my coat up around my ears. The wind makes the temperature feel much colder than the forty-three degrees it’s supposed to be. I fumble with my bag
“For Hawaii,” Noble says, his self fully restored.
“I’ll try it on as soon as we get home,” I say, and dig into our sushi.
* * *
It’s as if Thanksgiving is the day after my birthday. But in fact, it’s been over two weeks since I turned twenty-five. The weeks flash on their way past, and I still can’t keep up. Michelle and I are busy in the kitchen when the phone rings. Noble walks in and grabs the receiver.
“Oh hey, Happy Thanksgiving,” he says. Who would call here on Thanksgiving? “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,” he continues. “I’ll bring some leftovers in a little while.” With this I can tell he’s talking to Butch or Marie. Probably Marie since Butch talks on the phone as little as possible. Noble hangs up and I look at him, my hands covered with potato peels as I try and gather them up from the bottom of the sink.
“They’re not coming?”
“No. Marie said Butch isn’t feeling well. They’re going to hang back,” Noble says, and pulls a bottle of wine off the shelf in the mudroom.
“Oh. Maybe it’s his knee. I’ll check on him after dinner,” I say as Lily toddles into the room. She’s pulling BJ by the collar and stops every few steps to kiss and hug him. He loves her, but she’s tough on him. I always tell him some people’s love hurts, and Lily is one of those people. Noble pulls her off the poor dog.
“How about you and Uncle Nick make a list of all the things we’re thankful for?” he suggests. Lily delights in anything that begins with her and Uncle Nick. I hear him searching for paper and a crayon in the Lily Art Box we keep in the dining room. I lose track as Michelle pours herself a glass of wine and plops down at the kitchen table for the first time in the last few hours. Thank God she’s here. I wouldn’t know what the heck I was doing alone in the kitchen with a roasting pan.
“Butch didn’t have any family come to town?” Michelle asks, and takes a sip of her wine.
“No. Not this year.” I pour myself a glass.
“That’s nice.” She tips her head, acknowledging our secret conversation.
“It is. Especially for our first Thanksgiving together. I wouldn’t mind if he stayed away forever,” I say, and can hear Lily laughing at something Noble is saying.
“I think Noble and Sean agree.”
“Not you?” I ask, half joking with her.
“I don’t know. I guess I always thought you two would be together,” Michelle says, shocking me. I’m pretty sure Sean would kill her if he heard this. “Don’t get me wrong. I love how things are right now. I’m just a masochist, I guess.”
“You would have to be.” I nod and gulp some more wine.
* * *
Besides that crazy nonsense about Jason, Michelle was a huge help. Dinner was delicious and I couldn’t have done it without her. I took careful mental notes in case I ever have to pull it off alone. While Noble washes the cookware, I pack up the leftovers—one set for Sean and Michelle, one for our house, and a little of everything for Butch and Marie. Butch’s knee must be acting up again. He loves a meal hot out of the oven.
I bag the food and invite BJ to come with me while I deliver it to Butch’s. Seeing BJ might improve Butch’s mood. Somehow the sweetest dog in the entire world and the crustiest old man are perfect companions. Opposites really do attract. BJ and I cross Butch’s yard with my bag of leftovers. I pull my coat up around my ears. The wind makes the temperature feel much colder than the forty-three degrees it’s supposed to be. I fumble with my bag
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