Gabe

“Hank, damnit.”

“What?” Hank looks at me, confused by my irritation.

“You just spilled your beer in my lap, ya jerk.”

“Did not. I wouldn’t treat a beer that way.”

I point at the dark spot in the crotch of my Levi’s. “What’s this look like to you?”

“Like you have issues with bladder control.” Hank smiles, pleased by his timely cleverness. “And how do you think I spilled my beer in your lap, anyway?”

“Uh, did you not just lean across me to snag the remote?”

“Yeah. But I didn’t use the hand holding my beer. Duh.”

I shake my head. “Well. While your free hand was reaching for the remote, where was the other one? The one holding the beer?”

“I braced myself on your leg, so I didn’t fall into your lap.”

“But you didn’t keep the bottle upright—hence...” I gesture back at the crotch of my jeans.

“Stop trying to make me look at your junk and go home and change already, if you’re going to be such a Nancy about it.”

His dismissing my complaint only pisses me off more. “What are you trying to watch anyway? Do you want to watch the game? Or, are you just trying to be a dick?”

Without looking away from the television Hank answers, “Nah, the Broncos aren’t playing today. I’m just biding my time, until the turkey is ready.”

I roll my eyes. “Ever think to ask if there’s something I’d like to watch?”

Hank cocks his head to consider the question. “Nope.”

“Seriously, are you at least going to apologize?”

Hank chuckles. “Will you stop whining if I do?”

“You’re such a dick.” I lean back into the couch, contorting at my waist to find an angle that allows me to kick him with the toe of my boot. “At least get up and grab a towel.”

“Jesus. I know Meredith is pregnant, but when she gets here, ask if she has a tampon in her purse, will ya?”

I know I’ll regret it, but I ask anyway. “Why?”

“Sounds like you could use one.” Before he marches off towards the kitchen, Hank stops to make a big gesture about setting his beer down on the end of the coffee table—as far away from me as he can—to be sure we are both aware that it’s not at risk of spilling on me while he’s gone.

What’s got me on edge tonight? It’s Thanksgiving, and no one knows for sure if Leo’s going to show. If that little shit does show up without his tail between his legs apologizing, I’m going to lose it. Frank and I haven’t spoken since Chet’s wedding because of him. So, I guess I’m nervous for Mom. Maybe I’ll feel better when Mer gets here. She’s home putting the finishing touches on a cake for dessert. Mom insisted it wasn’t necessary, but it was her way of contributing (without waiting for an official invitation to help Mom in the kitchen).

A hand towel smacks the side of my head, causing me to jump up from the couch. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Damn. That was awesome. ” Hank plops back down in his seat. “I wasn’t even aiming for your head. I mean, not really.”

I roll my shoulders and crack my neck before wiping at my beer stained crotch. “Little brother, it really says something that your company makes me wish Chet was around, you know?” I blot my jeans with the towel. “Why don’t you see if Mom needs help in the kitchen?”

“I’m fine right here.” Hank picks up the remote and resumes channel clicking too fast to know what he’s looking at. “You’re the one who’s all sensitive tonight. Why don’t you go help?”

I look up from my jeans. “I already offered, and she kicked me out.”

Hank laughs. “Me too. Want another sip of my beer?” He tips the neck of the bottle in my direction.

“Don’t do it,” I warn.

Christy stands in the open doorway with Logan in her arms. “Hank’s been living at my place for how long now? But the minute you two are in the same room together, you fall right back into your old routine, like nothing changed.”

Hank and I both look up and point at one another. “He started it,” we say together.

Chet comes through the door and stands behind his wife. “Same two fools they’ve always been. I never saw how changing where one of them sleeps was likely to help.”

I look to Hank. “Remember what I said about Chet before?”

Hank nods. “Yeah.”

“Strike that.”

Chet shakes his head and steps forward, taking Christy by the hand. “Come on, Doc. Let’s say hello to Mom and see if she can use any help.”

Christy hurls a now-look-what-you’ve-done glare in our direction before turning to her husband. “Why don’t you take this little guy—I think he’s due for a diaper change—while I check on Marie.”

I smile at Chet, ready to make a joke about how he always gets the shitty jobs, but a delicate knock at the door derails my train of thought. Chet tries to adjust the baby in his arms to find a free hand for the door. “I’ve got it. I’ve got it.” Meredith stands on the porch, resting a cake plate on her belly, illuminated by the warm glow of the porch light. “Evening, Doll. My, my, my—you look good enough to eat,” I say as I push open the door.

“Thanks—you look…” Meredith stops mid-step as she enters the house. “Um. Couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time?” she laughs, pointing at my lap.

“Hank,” I mutter.

“Ahh.” Meredith continues into the living room. “Chet, Hank—Oh, would you look at that outfit?” Meredith shoves the dessert into my hands as she goes into baby mode over Logan. “He’s so handsome in his little overalls. Can I hold him?” she looks to Chet.

“Sure. I was just about to change his diaper though.”

“I’ll do it.” She takes the diaper bag and baby from his father and barely glances in my direction before disappearing into a bedroom. “We’ll be back.”

I set the cake down on the coffee table. “Somehow I doubt I’ll be that lucky after our little one gets here.” Chet nods, but says nothing. I try again to make conversation. “So, have you heard from anyone else? Who should we be expecting?”

“Frank’s out,” Hank says as he continues flipping through channels.

“Really? Did he say why?” Chet asks.

Having finally settled on a holiday movie we’ve all seen a thousand times, Hank looks up from the television. “Something to do with a girl.”

I turn to Hank. “I didn’t know he was seeing anyone. Much less someone serious enough to skip Thanksgiving over.”

“His number hasn’t changed. Get over yourself and call him if you need more info.”

I glance at Chet and glare at Hank, not wanting to dredge up the argument we had in Hank’s kitchen after the wedding. “Nah—I don’t care that much. Besides, it means more leftovers for us, right? What about Jack? Any word from him?”

Chet responds. “He’s on his way. Should be here any time.”

An awkward silence hangs in the air as each of us contemplates if we’re going to ask about the remaining brother. Hank finally breaks the silence. “Leo’s out. But he didn’t say why.”

I quietly breathe a sigh of relief, but know Mom will be devastated.

When Meredith comes back into the room, playfully bouncing a smiling baby Logan through the air, she notices the tension in the room and shoots me a questioning look. I shake my head, hopeful she understands not to mention it. “Hank, you’re sitting in the middle of the couch, why don’t you slide over and make some room for the lady?” Hank does just that, slides over and pats a spot beside him for Meredith and Logan, while spreading out to take up as much of the remaining couch as possible.

I roll my eyes. “You have the mental maturity of a thirteen-year-old.”

Meredith places Logan in Chet’s arms. “Here, you go handsome, time to go back to your daddy.” She smiles at Chet. “Gabe, why don’t we see if your mom and Christy could use any help?”

Meredith picks up the cake and I wrap my arm around her waist as we walk into the kitchen. When we enter, both women look up from their respective tasks and offer warm smiles.

“Welcome, dear. Thank you for your dessert, but you really didn’t need to do that” Mom says as she sets down the knife and wipes her hands with a towel. “Your timing couldn’t be better. Dinner's just about ready.” Mom walks over to Meredith and helps herself to feeling her belly. “You barely show at all. Are you in your sixth month already?” Meredith bobs her head and does her best to smile while my mother completely invades her personal space. “Let’s see now, do we know who’s coming today? I guess we’ll need to set up the card table, if everyone’s going to have a place to sit.”

I feel awful for being the one to break the news. The woman loves to cook for her family on a typical Wednesday. But this? This is Thanksgiving, and I’m certain she’s been looking forward to it for months. No doubt, completely ignoring the possibility that some of us might not want anything to do with her asshole, youngest son. “I think we’ll be okay Mom. It’s just us tonight, plus Jack.”

Mom looks up from Meredith’s belly, disheartened by the news. “Oh no. Are you sure?”

I nod. “Sorry to say.”

About that time, Logan begins laughing hysterically in the living room, causing everyone to walk over to see what is going on. No surprise, Hank is being an idiot and making him laugh. Mom turns back to Christy and smiles. “Well, I’ll follow up with the other boys later and find out what was so important. At least we’ll have enough room for everyone. We can set up the baby seat at the end of the table, in John’s old spot.” She turns to Meredith. “And you can sit in Frank’s seat, next to Gabe like you have been. Is that alright with everyone?”

The front door closes, and I hear Jack’s voice in the living room. Mom smiles. “Why don’t you call the boys to eat while we get the food on the table?”

“Sure thing.” I turn my head towards the living room and yell. “Food’s on!” When I turn back to the kitchen, all three women are giving me the stink eye. “What? I called them to eat. Sheesh, tough crowd,” I say as I walk to the table and pull Meredith’s chair out for her.

Jack enters the kitchen and wraps Mom in a tight hug. “Happy Thanksgiving. Dinner smells delicious.”

Chet walks in holding Logan in one arm and a portable high chair in the other. Hank brushes past and takes a seat at the far end of the table, next to our mother. “Yes ma’am, it does smell delicious. But please tell me there’s more than just turkey?”

“Well…” Mom looks over the dishes covering the counter. “There’s also a baked ham with brown sugar & mustard glaze, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, my special macaroni and cheese, corn, stuffing…” she looks to Christy. “Am I forgetting anything?”

“Sourdough rolls,” Christy whispers.

Mom shakes her head. “Right. The sourdough rolls.”

Hank rubs his belly. “Mmm-mmm. The other boys don’t know what they’re missing tonight. I bet it’ll be a while before you’re ready for Leo to come back here anyway, huh Chet?”

My eyes flit to Chet and I see contempt simmering below the surface. Then I look over to Christy who’s standing by the sink. The tight line of her lips says she’s not done being angry either, like her husband. But there’s a sadness in her eyes as she looks to Mom, who seems heartbroken by the statement.

Silence blankets the table and my eyes settle on Hank as I attempt to burn a hole through him. When he doesn’t notice, Jack kicks his leg under the table, causing him to wince. “What?” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m just saying—you three are obviously not team Leo.”

Chet groans and smacks his hand against the large table. “Why don’t we let Mom say grace, so we can enjoy this feast she’s worked so hard to prepare?”

We all nod. Christy sets the rolls on the table and takes her seat next to Chet.

“See, that’s where Leo would sit if he was here. That’s why I mentioned it. How awkward would this be right now?” Hank half mumbles, prompting Mom to squeeze his hand to shut him up.

With napkins in our laps, we bow our heads as Mom prays. When she’s finished, everyone picks up a dish, spoons some onto their plate, and passes it to the next person. Trying to lighten the mood, Meredith looks to Hank. “So, did you ever follow up with Mollie?”

Hank plops a large portion of mashed potatoes onto his plate and looks up. “Huh?”

“Mollie. Remember, right after the wedding? I’m sure Gabe told you about her.”

Hank shakes his head and levels his eyes at me. “What’s she talking about?”

Meredith turns to me, looking for back up. “Gabe?”

Shit. “Uh, that may have slipped my mind.”

“What slipped your mind? What happened?” Hank asks before pushing a forkful of green beans into his mouth.

“Nothing really.” I shift in my chair. “It was a silly thing. Right after the wedding Meredith and I had lunch at Belle’s and the girl who works there, Mollie…”

Hank nods. “Yeah. I know who you’re talking about.”

“Well, she may have mentioned that we should tell you to give her a call some time.”

“What?” Hank smacks his hand on the table. “And it slipped your mind?” he yells. “For six months?”

“Honestly, I didn’t think much about it. She doesn’t really seem like your type, anyway.”

“Why not?” Hank asks.

“Uh. She’s a lovely girl. But, come on. She’s not quite your speed, you know?”

“My speed? What speed is awesome, exactly?”

I shake my head. “Maybe what I should have said is, she seems like a woman with a good head on her shoulders.”

“Okay…what’s wrong with that?” Hank glares in my direction.

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong with that. Hell, it’s great…do you really not see where I’m going here?”

Hank’s voice is low and stern. “I don’t believe I do.”

I look around the table, hoping for some back up, but no one else seems interested in wading into these waters. “I was only trying to say, I think she’s probably looking for something a little more serious than you're ready to provide. That’s all.”

Hank slams his fork onto his plate. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Henry. There’s no cursing in this house,” our mother interrupts. “I’m certain Gabriel didn’t mean to offend you.” Mom casts me a hard look as she shakes her head.

“What?” I look to Chet. “I’m not trying to knock Hank or anything. I’m just saying, he’s not a teenager anymore and I imagine women Mollie's age are less interested in carefree, loveable goofballs, and more interested in men with solid careers who are ready to settle down.”

Chet, sitting directly across from me, stares at his plate, quietly eating. Okay, I see I’m not gonna get much support from him. Christy, once again seems conflicted and is opting to stare at her plate as well. Come on girl, you need to learn to take a side if you want to make it in this family.

Meredith smiles apologetically, embarrassed to have tossed a live grenade and then thrown my body on top of it to save herself.

I look to Jack, squirming in his seat and doing everything he can not to laugh. When Hank notices, I swear, I think his head is going to explode. “What the hell is so funny?” he asks as he kicks Jack under the table.

Mom, seated at the end of the table, levels her fork at Hank. “That’s twice. No more cursing,” she warns. “Or we’ll get out the card table and make you sit there by yourself.”

The image is too much for Jack and he burst into laughter. “I can see it. I can totally see it. Hank, back at the kiddy table. Don’t worry buddy, in another year or two Logan will be big enough to join you.”

Hank scoffs. “Hey, I’m older than you, asshole.”

Mom stands. “That’s it. Henry, I warned you. Gabriel, please go get the table from the basement.”

Hank’s attention snaps to our mother. “What? Mom?” he whines.

Mom is the first to laugh, chuckling as he begs her not to follow through with her threat. But when she wags her finger at him it’s too much, and the rest of us burst into laughter at the sight of a grown man pleading with his mother to stay at the big table. It’s the perfect distraction to lighten the mood.

After everyone settles down, Jack clears his throat. “I sort of have an announcement. We just found out a couple days ago and I can’t get into any details, but it looks like I won’t be back for Christmas.”

Mom’s head falls. “What do you mean, honey?”

Jack places his hand on Mom’s. “My battery has been called up. We’ll be heading overseas. Soon.”

“How long will you be gone?” I ask.

“A year, probably. We’ll be in an active combat zone, so communicating will be spotty too.”

So much for lightening the mood. The rest of the meal is quiet, except for the sounds of forks clanking against plates. As awkward a Thanksgiving as this turned out to be, I can’t imagine how much worse it might have been if Leo had shown up.