Thanksgiving Joy

He has offered to help several times, but I won’t allow him to. He needs to be on the couch resting. Too bad he won’t take his butt to said couch. Maybe I could breathe if he did.

Ro—or Roark as he has asked me to call him—has gained all the weight I remember him having back in the day and then some. All in the most delicious way. I walked past his room yesterday to see him powering through push-ups and flipped out.

He chuckled and waved me off. According to him, he feels better and promised he wouldn’t push too hard. From the way he’s filling out the white dress shirt he’s wearing today, he’s been pushing hard all right.

“I don’t know why, but I never thought about you in the kitchen,” he says out of the blue.

“Really? Why not?”

We’ve fallen into a routine. Roark either hangs with me and it’s like we’re two old friends catching up. Or he just stares, watching me.

It’s not in a creepy way. Most times I get the feeling he’s just lost in his thoughts. I can understand that. I get that way sometimes.

“I don’t know. When we met you were doing big things. I just pictured you with a lawyer or doctor husband. You know, with a staff in your home cooking for you,” he replies.

I laugh. “That’s the life my parents would love for me to have. Me, not so much.” I shrug.

“That’s sort of hard to believe,” he says.

My brows crease and I look up from the cabbage I’m stirring. He seems to be looking at me more closely. His gaze causes me to shift on my feet.

“I don’t know why you would think that. I’ve never been into titles and all of that. I want someone I can share a happy life with, not a profession. Trust me, if you knew some of the shit doctors do in the hospital, you’d understand why I’m not running to date one,” I scoff.

“Seriously?”

“I have stories. I’d have you peeing in your pants with some of them,” I say.

“We’ll have to get to those,” he says with that sexy crooked grin. “So what is your boyfriend like? Is he coming tonight?”

My cheeks heat. I turn for the pies in the oven just to get a reprieve from is eyes. When I turn back he’s still watching me.

“No, he won’t. I don’t have a boyfriend,” I say softly.

“Again, hard to believe.”

I roll my eyes and place my hands on my hips. I hate it when people act as if I need to have a man in my life. I’ve been doing just fine without one.

“Why? Because every woman needs a man. Give me a break with that. I’ve watched guys walk all over the women I love. I’m in no hurry to have my heart broken or my bank account emptied.

“When and if I find the one, it won’t be based off of anyone’s standards but mine. I hate that during this time of year, I have to deal with daddy shoving the next potential partner down my throat. Or my mother having a nice boy she wants to invite to dinner.

“It’s the reason I had dinner here this year. That way I can choose the guest list, and that does not include a hook up for me. Shoot, I don’t even have my shit together.” I push a hand into the top of my curls.

My chest heaves and my ears burn. I didn’t mean to go on that rant. My family just drives me crazy with trying to marry me off. When in all reality, I don’t know what I want.

“I’m sorry,” Roark says.

“Don’t be. I’m the one that should be apologizing. The holidays stress me out. Can I tell you something?”

He nods at me tightly. I remember that night we hung out. We talked for hours at that party as if no one else were there.

“I took a leave from work before I was suspended—”

“You were suspended? Was it because of me?” He asks, concern covering his face.

“Yes and no. Not really.”

“You’re lying. You do this thing with your lips when you lie. I saw you do it a few times when you were talking on the phone earlier,” he says, narrowing those blue eyes at me.

“It wasn’t because of you. It was because I didn’t follow protocol. My boss had it out for me in the first place. If it weren’t for my father, he would have found a way to toss me out on my ass a long time ago. I’m too good at what I do for his racist, sexist liking,” I huff.

“Why would you put everything on the line for a stranger?”

“You’re not a stranger.”

“You didn’t know that when I was bleeding out and all filthy on that street,” he tosses back.

“I’d do it again,” I shrug and move on. “Anyway, I took a break because I don’t know what I want anymore. Seeing what I thought was a glamorous life up close…I don’t know if I want it. It’s not glamorous at all.

“The long hours, the politics, the everyday fight because I’m a black woman. I’m just tired. The love is gone. Honestly, saving your life was the first time I’ve felt alive in an OR in so long I can’t remember.”

“So what do you plan to do?”

My face crumbles. “I don’t know. Maybe find a smaller hospital. I’ve been offered to go into a private practice. I want all the things that my parents don’t want for me.”

“At the end of the day, it’s your life,” he says.

A warm smile comes to my face. “You know you told me that ten years ago. You’re the reason I went for it all. Not just becoming a doctor, but a surgeon.”

“We said a lot that night. I remember having a lot of beers too,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, I remember that too,” I give my own laugh.

“I had no idea a girl your size could down so much alcohol and still stand. I knew from that point, we’d be friends,” he says.

“Yeah, I thought so too, but what happened?”

I get the words out just as the doorbell rings. Roark stands as if he has a fire lit under his ass. I’m a bit disappointed.

“I’ll get it,” he calls over his shoulder.

He’d been right for once. I was so wasted I just wanted to get out of there after that. I lucked out.

I saw the girlfriend of one of my buddies from the shop. She offered to take me home. I was so in my feelings about it all, I don’t remember if I told Allison goodnight or not.

I push that memory behind me. Me walking away that night was the best thing I could’ve done for her. She deserves better than what I would have given her.

“Ro?” India says in confusion when I open the door.

“Hey, India.”

“What are you doing here? Wait…oh my God! You were the guy at the hospital. I knew I knew you from somewhere. Holy—,” her words cut off as she looks down at the cute little girl in her arms.

“Can we take this inside? My buns are freezing off out here.” Erica says.

The Myers sisters are all gorgeous in their own way. I don’t blame my cousin for being crazy over India. As she walks in, a little boy follows her, holding her free hand. My eyes shift between the two kids.

Family.

I think I understand Allison’s words from that first night, a few weeks ago. I’m even more curious now. My cousin has been in the papers a lot in the last week. Rumors about his career, a new album, and drug use.

I shake my head. Like Allison said, none of my business. I’m still working on me.

Allison’s parents walk in behind the sisters. I don’t miss the seemingly disapproving look that’s sent my way by her mom. Her father looks more curious than anything.

“Good evening,” I say to them both.

“Hello,” her mother speaks first. “Where is my daughter?”

“She’s in the kitchen, ma’am,” I reply.

Mrs. Myers reminds me a bit of Tina Knowles. With a Toni Braxton in the nineties cut. Her face softens just a bit, but I still see the caution in her eyes.

She looks to her husband, drawing my attention to him. He looks like he’s about to interrogate me, but thinks better of it as his wife reaches for his hand and gives it a squeeze.

“I’m Allison’s father, Jackson Myers,” he says.

“Yes, sir. I know who you are. My step-father was a good friend of yours,” I reply.

His brows shoot up. He searches my face, probably trying to make a connection. His eyes remind me of Allison’s. She takes more after her father’s dark brown skin and brown eyes than her sisters. India looks more like her mother and Erica falls in between.

“You said, was?” He says.

“Yeah, my step-father was Henry Fox,” I reply.

His face takes on that pitied look I hate so much. His hand comes out for mine. I take it and give him a firm shake.

“Your step-father was a very good friend of mine. You must be Roark. He was very proud of you. Talked of you as if you were his own. I’m sorry I was never able to meet you before…I’m sorry for your loss,” he says.

“Thank you. It’s been a long time,” I say tightly.

“Yes, but something like that can stay with you for a long time. I was so sorry I couldn’t make it back for the funeral,” he replies.

I nod, not wanting to dwell on the topic. Seeming to understand, he nods and turns toward the door. A guy I hadn’t given much attention to stands waiting.

He has a smile on his face and a bottle of wine in his hand. Allison’s words from earlier come back to me. This must be this year’s offering.

My jaw tightens at the thought. Jealousy rises as I look over his suit and tie. He looks like the type of guy Allison should be with. Clean cut, wealthy, a smooth brother with his shit together.

Yet, her protest earlier says otherwise. Which is why I allow myself to relax and push down my feelings.

“Roark, this is Stanley Burkes. One of my fine, up and coming attorneys,” Mr. Myers says proudly.

“Nice to meet you,” Stanley says, reaching out his hand.

I take it but I shake harder than I need to. He winces a little but tries to return the grip. It ain’t happening.

“I’m sorry. Are you a friend of Allison’s?” Stanley asks.

“This is the young man that saved her life,” Allison’s father says.

“Oh, wow. I was very sad to hear about all of that. I’m glad you were around to help out,” Stanley says tightly, as he looks me over.

“Yeah, I’m glad I was able to save her,” I say pointedly.

“So, Allison invited you as a thank you?”

This motherfucker.

He wasn’t invited at all. Not by Allison, that I’m sure of. I see that look on his face. I’m used to it.

White trash.

I hear the words in my head as if he says them out loud. I’ve been called worse. I know what it’s like to be the black sheep.

“Well, I have a lot to be grateful for. Why don’t we all get settled in? Stanley, come meet Allison,” Mrs. Myers says before I can answer Stanley’s question.

I flex my hands at my sides as they walk away. Taking a calming breath, I go to follow them. Only India appears, stepping in my way.

“Your piercings. That’s why I didn’t recognize you. The brow ring and earrings are all gone. But I guess they don’t let you keep stuff like that in prison,” she says lifting a brow.

My body stiffens again, but that mischievous smile I know her for appears.

“Relax, Ro,” she chuckles. “Thanks for what you did for my sister. I know you were locked up for some bullshit. I just wish…I wish I could have done something to help.”

“Looks like you had your own thing going on,” I say nodding to the two kids she walked in with.

“Yeah, your cousin is a dick. He’s good for giving up on people. He had his head up his own ass when everything went down with you,” she says.

“I’m not his responsibility,” I shrug her words off.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. He knew Carter was an asshole and none of us ever wanted anything to do with him,” she replies folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, wish I would have followed that instinct.”

Her eyes soften and she moves in closer. “It’s good to see you. You look good. If you need anything, and I mean anything, you let me know. Not just because of Allison. You’re family,” she says with a smile.

“Thanks. Your sister has done more than enough for me.”

“Not even, you don’t know Al,” She snorts. “She’s going to go to the ends of the earth to find a way to help you.”

“I’ll be leaving soon. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome already,” I say, looking into the living room where Allison is talking to Stanley.

India turns to follow my gaze. She shifts into me, nudging me with her hip. A glance down at her reveals she has that mischievous smile back in place.

“Dude doesn’t stand a chance. Al would chew him up and spit him out. He’s too busy kissing my dad’s ass to see he’s out of his league. Now, you,” her eyes roll over me. “You’re the kind of guy my sister needs.”

She winks at me and walks away leaving me stunned. My stare moves back to Allison. From the tight expression on her face, I don’t think this Stanley guy is going over so well. She looks my way and her eyes are almost pleading.

Even with the distress in her features, she’s gorgeous. The blue satin dress hugging her curves gives her an elegant look that reminds me she’s much too sophisticated for me. I don’t have half of what Stanley has to offer.

“Dinner is ready. I just need to set an extra place,” Allison announces. “Hey, Roark would you mind?”

“Sure, I can help,” I say, moving to join her.

Thank, God Roark was able to talk me off the ledge. If he hadn’t I would have lost it. He’s been a saving grace all evening.

Taking the seat next to me before Stanley could. Keeping the conversation off of me. Even going as far as helping me in the kitchen whenever I needed a break from my mother.

“Come have a walk with me,” my father says, as everyone else has a lively conversation in the living room.

I nod and follow him to the coat closet. He helps me into my coat before putting his on. Looping my arm through his, he leads us out of the door. But not before I spot my mother watching with a smug grin on her face.

I let out a heavy breath as we walk outside. I know what’s coming. I’ve been dreading it all night.

“Your mother wanted me to talk to you,” he starts.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I mutter.

“Don’t get grumpy on me so fast. I want to talk to you, but your mother and I have very different opinions,” he says.

“How so?” I ask cautiously.

“I like Roark. I was concerned when your mother first told me you took him in, but I can see he’s a nice young man. He just walked into some trouble,” he replies.

“I don’t know what happened. We knew him when we were younger. He had his own businesses and was doing so well for himself,” I muse out loud.

“From what India told me this evening, he took the rap for his no good step-brother and things went south from there.”

“Seriously?”

“India doesn’t know all of the details, but she knows he went to jail thinking he could keep the other young man out of trouble, but Roark seemingly didn’t know the depth of the trouble his step-brother had gotten himself into,” he replies.

“That’s terrible.”

“Yes, I feel terrible about it. India had come to me to get a friend out of trouble, but you know all the things she had going on then. I was so angry with her I refused to listen,” my father says with so much regret.

“Don’t beat yourself up, dad. You didn’t know what was going on, and as bad as all of that had to be for him, it still led to him saving my life,” I say.

“Yes, yes, it did. That’s probably selfish of us both.”

“Yeah, it did sound that way after I said it,” I admit. “I want to do something to help him. I had to fight with him just to get him to take the clothes I bought. I’ve been wracking my brain for ways to do something that can help out.”

“What about a go fund me or something?” Daddy suggests.

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” I say excitedly.

“I’ll donate when you have it up. Not only is he a nice young man, but he also saved one of my treasures. I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to you,” my father says, with emotions clear in his voice.

“So what are we doing about mommy?” I ask.

“You leave your mother to me,” he kisses my temple. “You’re helping a friend, not ending the world.”

I laugh and wrap my father’s waist for a hug. We continue our walk and talk about football for the remainder of the stroll.