Thanksgiving was upon us before any of us knew it, and it was just another sign that the older you got, the faster time flew. Would it ever slow down again, or were we doomed to speed through the rest of our lives?
A big part of it was knowing that I would see Nadine for the first time since she’d brought the random guy into my home. Dread was a great way to make the days fly by.
By the time the bar was closed for regular business and decorated with cheesy cardboard cutouts of goofy-looking turkeys and cornucopias brandishing produce innards, I was dealing with my various anxieties about the evening with the same bottle of whiskey with which Ace had tried to comfort me during the planning stage for the party, when I’d been convinced that all I cared about was Nadine’s happiness.
Maybe I should’ve been a little more concerned with my own happiness. Right now, I felt the furthest from happiness I ever had. I was sick with nerves, and the whiskey was barely making a dent in it.
I felt like I could be excused for showing up to Thanksgiving already a little drunk. I knew that I’d told Haley to go ahead and invite Nadine in spite of everything, but that didn’t mean I had to go into it all vulnerable and sober. Having four whiskeys on the rocks in me prior to everyone arriving at the bar meant that I felt a little impervious to whatever might come to pass, even if it just meant being in the same place as Nadine, for once. I’d gotten really good at avoiding her at the bar. I made excuses, locking myself in the office if I knew she was working. Or I’d arrange to go on brewery tours and purchasing visits if I couldn’t stand the thought of sharing the space with her.
There was the problem, though, of having taken her on one of those trips. We’d had so much fun that day, riding together all the way to the brewery, shouting at each other over the wind we generated, Nadine’s laughter so wild and free. She’d gotten drunk tasting all the beers the brewery had to offer and then some, and I was drunk on her, the generosity of her spirit, the way she accepted everything into her heart and truly savored it. How many people were there like that in the world? How had I been lucky enough to cross paths with one?
And how had I been so stupid to mess everything up?
The breweries had lost their flavor. I holed up in my office and got caught up on paperwork and purchase orders, reorganizing my files, then digitizing them just for the hell of it. I created business plans for projects that would never come to pass transforming the bar into a craft brewery of its own, or a brewpub, or something that Jack would never sign off on.
I was so busy pretending to change things so I could forget it was really me I wanted to change, or Nadine’s opinion of me. I didn’t know how to be the person she wanted me to be, didn’t even know what the parameters of that identity would entail.
All I could do now was try to weather the storm I felt like Thanksgiving was going to be.
“You okay?” Haley gave me a significant look as I tried to hide the fifth whiskey I’d poured for myself.
“I’m fine,” I said.
Chuck set a huge turkey, still steaming from the oven, on the bar. “How about this? This has to be better than fine, right?”
“Okay, that looks delicious,” I said. “I thought Ace was doing the turkey, though.”
Haley rolled her eyes. “It seems like there is a casual turkey competition going on this year.”
“I wasn’t invited to take part in this turkey competition,” I protested. “I bet I could make a really good turkey.”
“As good as this?” Chuck grinned as he framed the turkey in his hands like he was considering the best angles for a photoshoot.
“Enough to put me in the running for a chance at the grand prize,” I said. “What is the grand prize?”
“What grand prize is there with all your stupid bets?” Haley asked. “There’s money on the best turkey.”
“What? How much money?”
Chuck looked cowed and Haley shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”
“Who’s in charge of judging the best turkey?”
Chuck patted my chest in what seemed, at first glance, as a gesture of affection, but then something crinkled in the pocket of my button down. “We were hoping you would do us the service of sampling the tenderest, juiciest pieces of the turkeys and deciding which one was the obvious best. My turkey, for example, has been slow roasted for hours, lovingly basted and cared for the entire time.”
“Did you just put a twenty-dollar bill in my pocket?” I asked, fishing it out and holding it up.
“Why, no!” Chuck exclaimed, his wide eyes shooting for innocence. “I would never do something as dastardly as trying to buy the judge.” He winked cheekily.
“You are not bribing Brody, Chuck.” Sloan and Amy walked in, Sloan bearing a container of cut-up turkey. “That’s so clearly cheating.”
“I’m not bribing him,” Chuck said, with some dignity. “Can’t a man give his friend some extra dough every now and again?”
“On this, the day of the great turkey cook-off?” Sloan demanded. “I don’t think so. I see right through you.”
“You all can try to bribe Brody all you want,” Ace said, making an entrance, flourishing his turkey on a fancy platter. Knowing him, he’d probably purchased the gold-toned crockery today to highlight his grilled bird. “One taste of this turkey, and he’s going to forget any of you are competing.”
“It does smell awfully good,” I was forced to admit.
“Don’t be fooled by his fancy presentation,” Sloan advised me. “Wait until you taste my turkey. It’s so tender it falls apart in your mouth. I’m absolutely going to win.”
“Who’s absolutely going to win?” Amy asked coolly.
Sloan gulped. “We. We are going to win. Amy did some…uh, the bulk of the work.” She smiled.
“Oh my God.” Jack plopped his bag of store-bought rolls on the bar, surveying the collection of turkeys. “I thought the point of organizing this thing was to ensure that we had all of our Thanksgiving bases covered. Did everyone seriously bring turkey?”
“Turkey’s the most important part of Thanksgiving,” Ace said gravely. “That’s why you entrusted me…to make the best one.”
“We entrusted you to make the only one,” Jack groused. “Now we’re going to have a crap ton of turkey.”
“Oh, come on,” Chuck said, pointing to the casserole dish Haley was setting up on the other end of the bar. “Of course we brought the sweet potatoes, too. But there’s no such thing as too much turkey, and we wouldn’t skimp on our original responsibilities.”
“How did I not catch wind of the turkey competition?” I wondered aloud, taking a sip from my whiskey.
“Whoa,” Ace said, recoiling a bit. “Is it whiskey o’clock already?”
“Soothing my nerves,” I muttered, a little taken aback that I’d been loose enough to break that out in front of everyone. They all knew I was a beer drinker before anything else.
“Hey, she might not even show up,” Jack said, looking to console me. “Haley, did you hear anything from Nadine?”
Haley seemed to weigh her answer for a minute. “She said she was bringing pumpkin pie.”
“Aw, you could at least give Brody a little hope that he wouldn’t have to see her,” Chuck chided.
“I’m not going to stand here and lie to him,” she said. “Sorry, Brody.”
“Thanks anyway,” I said, and took another mouthful of whiskey. Now that the cat was out of the bag on that, I didn’t have to hide it behind the bar.
“I thought for sure you would have a collection of Thanksgiving beers for us to try,” Jack said. The ruse was an obvious onesteer me away from my whiskey but I latched onto it almost gratefully.
“Well, now that you brought it up, I do have some Oktoberfest beers I’ve been meaning for you all to try.” I scooped some ice into a couple of buckets while most of the guys groaned good-naturedly.
“You just had to say something,” Sloan teased Jack. “If you would’ve left it alone, we could’ve been drinking whatever we wanted.”
“And Brody would’ve gotten shit-faced off of whiskey,” Jack responded quietly though not quiet enough to keep me from hearing. I wasn’t offended, though. I knew my friends were just looking out for me.
“It’s November, though,” Chuck said a little plaintively as he examined one of the labels of the bottles I was icing down. “Doesn’t that mean this Oktoberfest beer is old?”
“Of course not,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s a really nice beer for fall. If you doubt me, I’ve got some great pumpkin and pecan beers.”
“You can’t put pumpkin in beers.”
“You can and it’s amazing,” I reasoned, showing him one to prove it. “I picked up this twelve-pack at a brewery I toured with Nadine. She was so worried we’d shake them up too much to drink with them strapped to the back of the motorcycle, so open with care, I guess.” I was grinning, but it sort of froze on my face as I realized what I’d said. That memory of Nadine had sprung forth unbidden. It was the day I thought there was a chance everything would be okay, the calm before the true storm hit. We’d had such a fun time during that impromptu trip. Where had it all gone wrong? What had made her bring someone into the home we’d been sharing? How did her mind work?
“You know what?” Chuck was beaming at me, looking brave. “I’m going to try one of those pumpkin beers.”
I blinked. “You are?”
“Hell, yes. You only live once, right?” He leaned close to me. “And I can always give it to Haley if I decide I don’t like it.”
“That’s the spirit,” I cheered, opening the pumpkin beer for him. “Here you go.”
Chuck took a deep breath before his tiny sip. I watched as a parade of feelings crossed his face suspicion, shock, doubt, confusion, and finally delight.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” I told him quickly. “If you don’t like it, you don’t like it.”
“It tastes like pumpkin, but not too much pumpkin,” he said, examining the label as if it had answers for him. “It’s just a delicious beer. I don’t know if I would sit around and get drunk off them, but this is definitely a festive drink.”
“You like a craft beer!” I said, triumphant.
“You don’t have to spread it around,” he hissed, even as his shoulders shook with mirth.
The spread along the barwas looking formidable with the addition of all the extra turkey for the impromptu competition. I was kind of on Chuck’s side you could never have too much turkey at Thanksgiving. If it didn’t get gobbled down tonight, we could divvy it up and send it home with everyone at the end of the night. The marshmallows on Haley’s sweet potatoes were browned to perfection, and I knew it would be nearly as good as dessert. Jack’s store-bought dinner rolls were the good kind, at least, and he’d made an effort by trying to artfully arrange them on a paper plate. Sloan and Amy had also collaborated on a green bean casserole topped with crunchy homemade onion straws. If there had been a competition for side items, I was halfway convinced that one would’ve won it, even over my massive vat of mashed potatoes and gravy.
“Hey!” Katie cried, using her hip to open the door to the bar since both her hands were occupied with a large, covered tray. “I can’t stay for very long, but I brought the belle of the ball.”
Ace all but preened as Katie whipped off the top to the tray to reveal a still-steaming glazed ham.
“What is this?” Jack asked, agape. “Was ham on the menu this year?”
“Just thought it would be a fun surprise,” Ace said, feigning nonchalance.
“This doesn’t factor in to the turkey competition,” Sloan said, scowling in my general direction. “Let the record reflect that.”
“Whatever,” I said. “That ham literally just made my stomach grumble with hunger.”
“Have you had anything to eat today?” Jack asked with sudden concern.
“Of course not,” I laughed. “Why would I do that when I knew this feast would be happening this evening? It seems like a waste of space.”
“How many of those whiskeys have you had?”
“None of your business is how many,” I informed him, draining the rest of my glass on principle.
“Hey, Brody?” Haley had sidled up to me with a sour look on her face. “I hate to insult your beer choices, but I just took a sip of the pecan beer, and I have to say, it’s not my favorite.”
My mouth dropped open. “What? You have an adventurous palate. You love trying new beers. What was wrong with the pecan beer?”
“Just wasn’t my cup of tea, I guess,” she said. “I don’t want to waste it, though. Will you take over?”
“I will make this right,” I vowed, taking the bottle she offered me. “By finishing this delicious and misunderstood beer.”
“You know what they say, don’t you, man?” Chuck asked me, raising an eyebrow. “Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear.”
“But beer before liquor, you’ve never been sicker,” Haley finished with a wise look. “So no more whiskey now, got it?”
“I have to say, I’m feeling a little deceived.” I took a pull from the beer. “I don’t care, though. This is a damn delicious beer, and it’s your own fault for giving it up.”
“I’ll just get another one,” Haley vowed, grinning. “It was mighty tasty.”
“Hey, could we get this thing going?” Ace asked, checking the time on his phone.
“What’s the big rush?” Jack asked. “It’s Thanksgiving. We’re all here. There’s nothing else we need.”
We weren’t all here. Nadine was noticeably absent, and I couldn’t settle on how to feel about that. Relief was at the forefront of my mind, but guilt was right there behind it. It wasn’t fair for me to be here in the bar, warm and happy and surrounded by my very best friends, wishing that Nadine wouldn’t show up. We were the only people she really knew in Rio Seco, and she deserved to have fun on Thanksgiving, too. It was a holiday centered around family and celebration, and I knew firsthand how tough it could be to get through if the family part of the equation was missing from it.
“Well, if you’ll notice from my stunning holiday attire” Katie did a full twirl, showing off her uniform, cuffs rattling on her belt “I didn’t manage to get today off.”
“Really?” Jack frowned. “That’s terrible.”
“Well, they gave me Christmas off in exchange for it, so I can’t complain too much,” she said. “And we don’t have to get anything started just for me, as long as you don’t mind me making up a quick plate.”
“No, no,” Jack said. “We all have to go around and say something we’re thankful for before we start eating. That’s tradition.”
“Aw, come on,” I complained, rankling at this. “I hate doing that.”
“Suck it up, or you don’t get to eat,” Jack said almost cheerfully. “Come on, everybody. Hope you brought your thankful faces.”
There was some grumblingit was tough for us to be genuine and grateful around each other sometimes but we all formed a rough oval around some of the tables in the bar, ignoring, for the moment, the delicious smells emanating from the food on the bar.
“Okay, I’ll go first,” Jack said. “Unless there are any other volunteers?”
“Hell, no,” I said. “I’ll go last.”
“Putting it off makes it more painful,” Ace advised me, but I refused to be swayed. It wasn’t like I ever confessed willingly. I hated baring my soul like this in front of everyone. It was embarrassing. And what even was I grateful for this year? Things weren’t going terribly well for me.
“This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful for good friends and good food,” Jack said. “I’m glad that we’re family, here, tonight. I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.” I had to wonder if he was serious about that. What if he could get his memories back in exchange for never having Thanksgiving at the bar? He might eat those words.
“Okay, I’ll go next,” Katie said. “I’m grateful that I am gainfully employed. Even if I have to work shitty hours sometimes, I like the work. Being a cop in this county is so much better than being a cop in Albuquerque.”
“Yeah, what’re your worst calls about?” Jack teased her. “Escaped cattle?”
“Kittens stuck in trees,” Katie said with a straight face. “I’m also thankful for Ace, of course, and his invitation to entertain me in the club booth later.”
“Oh, hell, no,” Jack said, and everyone laughed.
“Stop interrupting!” Katie fussed. “No one interrupted you when you were being thankful.”
“I said nothing about possible trysts in the club booth.”
“All right, me, now,” Ace said, interrupting before things could even approach heated between his two favorite people. “I’m thankful for KatieI’m not taking her into the club booth, bud, stop giving me that look. I’m thankful that Katie’s in Rio Seco with me, thankful for motorcycles, the fact that she has one and we can ride together. Thankful for everything that Katie does for me”
“Okay, okay,” Jack said. “You’re going to make Brody vomit.”
“I’m not going to vomit,” I protested when everyone swung around to stare at me. “Speak for yourself, Jack.”
“Continuing going around the circle,” Haley said, shooting a glare at Jack, “I’m thankful that Chuck and I are living in our beautiful house. It’s like a dream to be there.”
“I’m going to have to second that,” Chuck said.
“No repeating things you’re grateful for,” Jack said. Lord, he was feisty tonight.
“Is that a rule, or did you just make that up to be difficult?” Chuck asked, eyeing him balefully. “I’m still thankful for the house, for Sloan’s work on it, for the pool can’t wait for it to warm up again so we can use it.”
“Aw, don’t wish away fall and winter,” Haley said, smiling at him. “Those are the best seasons to cuddle. We can keep each other warm.”
“Did I mention that I’m damn grateful for this woman?” Chuck kissed her, and we all made gagging noises while laughing at just how cute they were together. It didn’t make me think of Nadine. Not at all. I was a liar, though, and a terrible one.
“I’m thankful to be here for Thanksgiving,” Amy said brightening when she realized it was her turn. “I know we all had kind of a rough start, but I’m just really thankful you all accepted me into the fold. This is great, what you’re doing here, coming together like this.”
“Yeah, well, just don’t write about us,” I said. “I better not buy your upcoming fiction book to see some character named Brady complaining about his love life.”
“Oh, I’d named your character Rhodey,” Amy said, laughing. “Brady might be better. Thanks!”
“Sloan,” I complained.
“You’re right, it is my turn to be thankful for Amy,” he said, giving her a squeeze. “I don’t know if you all realize this, but the article she wrote about me did a lot more than launch her career it brought a lot of visibility to the plight of veterans returning home from war. She’s amazing, and I’m constantly floored that she’s actually a part of my life.”
“This is rotting my teeth,” I sighed, shaking my head.
“You have to admit it’s a little romantic,” Haley said, making a face at me.
“All right, Brody, it’s you,” Jack said. “Don’t fight us on this. Your gratitude is the only thing standing between us and a delicious Thanksgiving dinner.”
“And a turkey tasting competition,” Ace added, giving me a wink.
“Just one thing you’re thankful for,” Chuck coached me. “Come on, man.”
It sucked that everyone was pushing me on this, because I didn’t feel the least bit thankful. Maybe that was a shitty way to feel, but it didn’t change the fact that it was inside me, roiling my stomach.
“Okay, whatever,” I said, still casting around for something to say. I liked beer. I liked whiskey a little less, especially with how upset my stomach was, but I could roll with that. I could be thankful for beer. Everyone would laugh and leave me alone and we could get on with this thing. “I’m thankful for…”
The door to the bar opened behind me and everyoneevery single person in our little oval looked somewhere on the spectrum between shocked and horrified. I didn’t have to turn around to know that Nadine had made her grand entrance, but I did anyway, looking at her with wide eyes. It had been a while since I’d seen her, and I would’ve been lying to myself if I said she didn’t look good. She was wearing ankle boots and skinny jeans paired with an oversized sweater that I only belated realized came out of my own closet, and what was that supposed to mean? She was wearing my clothes. Was that a sign of affection or a lack of respect? In context of the man she’d brought into my home, it felt more like a slap in the face.
She had a prepackaged pie in her arms and she gave a grin that was more like a grimace. “Sorry I’m running late, guys. I thought you wouldn’t mind dessert comes last.”
“We were just getting started,” Haley said quickly to fill the awkward silence that stretched when no one said anything. The Horizon guys were loyal before anything else. No one wanted to speak to Nadine if I wasn’t about to. The swell of pride in my chest was a lot better than any of the other feelings I’d been experiencing.
“I hope you don’t mind that I brought a guest,” Nadine said, relaxing a little bit as she held the door open for the person coming in behind her.
Son of a bitch. Son of a fucking bitch. I didn’t know what plane of reality Nadine was operating on, but this was just a little too cruel to believe. The same guy who’d tried to introduce himself to me while wrapped in one of my towels after taking a shower in my bathroom was strolling in to the bar as a special guest of Nadine. How was this happening? Why? What in God’s name had I ever done to her to make her treat me like this?
I could’ve blamed the five whiskeys I’d had before Haley was able to manipulate me into taking a beer, or the fact that I hadn’t really had anything to eat all day in anticipation of the Thanksgiving feast. But really, the only thing to blame was my hurt feelings. I hated the fact that she was humiliating me in front of my friends by bringing this guy to Thanksgiving. They cared about me, and I knew they had to realize this was the guy I’d told them about. It was embarrassing, and I was just as devastated as I was enraged.
Nadine’s new boyfriend had just enough time to light up with recognition when he saw me striding toward him, and was right in the middle of saying somethingwho cared what it was when my fist smashed the words back into his mouth.
My knuckles stung in the best possible way, and my blood sang with the savage pleasure of making things right. He’d been in my house, in my bed. It was well past time that I took some kind of revenge. The guy was spluttering, trying to hold his hands up in front of his face, but I was former military. A Marine. What the fuck was he? He was the guy who was ruining my life. He’d somehow won Nadine over and they were conspiring to completely drive me crazy. Honestly, though, they were winning. I was a mess, pounding my fists into the guy wildly. I knew I didn’t have any kind of hope to hold out for. All I wanted to do now was cause as much pain as I had been caused if that was even possible.
People were shouting, but I was too drunk and angry to understand what they were saying. I only heard snatches.
“What the hell do you”
“Is that the guy who”
“Get off!”
“I’m coming in so”
“For fuck’s”
I hit the ground on my back hard enough to drive the wind out of me, and I gasped a couple times, trying to catch my breath, when I realized the reason I was having such a hard time breathing was because Jack was all but sitting on my chest.
“Are you done?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm. I knew he was pissed, though. His eyes were hard, and I knew it was because I was right in the middle of ruining Thanksgiving.
I took a second to look around. Sloan was grinning and flapping his hand, which meant he’d gotten at least one hit in. He was a sucker for bar brawls, even if this one had happened in the midst of a holiday celebration. Chuck was looking conflicted, and that told me he was thinking about the last time there had been a fight in the bar it had been his fault. Haley and Amy looked aghast, though Amy’s fingers were twitching like she was either reenacting the entire thing in her mind, or trying to figure out how best to get it down on paper later. Okay, maybe that wasn’t fair. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I was just fodder for whatever fiction project she was working on, though that was probably pretty vain of me.
“Can you pretend you didn’t see any of that?” Ace quietly asked Katie, who gaped at me, dressed in full police regalia. Fuck. I’d forgotten that she was practically on duty, stopping by the bar for Thanksgiving dinner before heading into work.
“That is officially unseen,” she said, sidling away. “I really have to be getting to work, anyway. I’m just a couple of minutes away from a patrol, so…”
“See you later,” he said, giving her a peck on the lips as he sighed. “Be careful, please.”
I felt bad that my poor behavior had driven Katie away early, but nowhere near as bad as I felt when I finally laid eyes on Nadine. Tears had left twin streaks down her cheeks, and she knelt next to the guy she’d brought to Thanksgiving, whose eye was already swelling from a punch I didn’t really remember landing. Other than that, he looked no worse for wear just a little confused.
“Why would you bring him here with you?” I asked Nadine. “What did you think was going to happen?”
“I thought I was going to introduce you to my brother,” she said, the edges of her voice ragged with stress.
“Your brother?” I repeated, sure I’d missed something somewhere. “Where is he?”
The guy gave me a weak wave. “Simon, here. Nadine’s brother. Nice to meet you again, though ‘nice’ is just a formality. It wasn’t that nice, to be honest.”
“You’re Nadine’s brother?” I wheezed, squinting at him.
Jack gazed down at me, still heavy on my chest. “Looks like you’ve got some things you need to talk about.” The pat he gave to my cheek was more on the level of a slap, but it still didn’t shock me as much as all of this.