24. Crew
T hanksgiving at Willow Creek was always a full-on event, apparently. With too many people and more food than anyone could ever dream of eating. My senses didn’t know what to think of it. I thought I was used to family dinners, judging my whole crew back home, but then again, I hadn’t experienced a Willow Creek Thanksgiving.
Thankfully, Winnie gave me full warning ahead of time. And being the angel she was, she’d picked up on my aversions to loud noises and ordered me very discreet, but impactful, ear plugs.
“My old roommate had sensory problems,” She shrugged like it was no big deal. Like I wasn’t broken or wrong or anything. She said it like it didn’t mean anything to her, which meant everything to me. “I think these could help. If you want them?”
I could hear the conversation without the overwhelming pushing of background noises like cows in the distance or football games on TV or Lottie and Knox fighting over guitar hero one room over and Felicity trying to support them both from the side. I could feel Winnie’s hands trailing back and forth on my forearm as she talked to her uncle without my skin tingling from it all being too much.
The ear plugs helped a lot, but I think what was the most helpful was knowing I had an escape. And not just an escape that was an hour away waiting for a long hike and no cell service. But an escape that was directly out that window, waiting for me.
Prior to everyone sitting down, Winnie made sure I knew it was more than fine if I got overstimulated and needed to slip out of the door for a walk into the quiet night. And knowing I had that as a backup, in addition to the plugs, made me feel safe. Made me feel warm and wanted.
It had still been an overwhelming thought at first—spending the holiday with Winnie’s family, hundreds of miles away from the city, on a farm that seemed to stretch on forever—but now that I was here, surrounded by her cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents, it didn’t feel so daunting anymore. In fact, being here made me feel...right, like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
My family was busy, constantly moving and talking, but they weren’t distant. I had misunderstood that at first. There had been a time when I thought they didn’t care—when their absence or lack of attention felt like I wasn’t really important to them. Or that I was just the bonus kid. I got it now. They’re just busy, caught up in the hustle of family life. Of loving their partner and kids and everything else around them, but that didn’t mean they didn’t care. I could see that in the way they all sent me a picture of my empty seat at the table. The same one I always got. Even Adam sent a separate text to me, saying he missed me and wanted me to help him work on his carbonator when I got back. Which was basically a giant kiss on the mouth coming from the guy. It was a comfort I didn’t know I needed, but it settled inside me like a warm fire on a cold night. Maybe they did miss me. And maybe it was true what they say about distance making the heart grow fonder.
It wasn’t until I started falling for Winnie that I truly understood why they were so enraptured by the people around them. I mean, how could I? I hadn’t been part of something this big, this connected, until now. I hadn’t understood how falling for someone could be so overwhelming in the best way. That’s what Winnie had done—she opened my eyes to the chaos, the love, the messiness of it all. And now, as we sat around the table for Thanksgiving dinner, her family laughing and passing around bowls of mashed potatoes and green beans, and it didn’t feel like pretending anymore.
We’d been smiling at each other all day, teasing, flirting under the radar of her cousins who were too busy cracking jokes and taking selfies to notice. Her aunts and uncles were telling stories from the past, her grandparents sitting close together at the end of the table, watching their family with content smiles. There was so much love in this room. It was real, and it hadn’t felt fake since we got on that plane a few days ago. It was as if something had shifted between us, like the layers of pretense had fallen away, leaving just… us. And I didn’t see us going back to normal anytime soon.
I leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to Winnie’s forehead as she smiled up at me. She was talking to her grandmother about something, but the look in her eyes told me she felt it too—that shift, that change. It wasn’t just me. Her hand found mine under the table, her fingers slipping between mine as if they belonged there. And in that moment, it was like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us, even in a room full of people.
When dinner wrapped up, after I stayed almost still the entire time, everyone stood holding their bellies and complaining of their sleep, I only wanted more of this. More of Winnie and me and this place and just all of it, really.
“Want to go somewhere special?” she whispered, her eyes dancing with excitement.
The look in my eyes was that of a desperate man. “If you’re there, then I want to go anywhere.”
She grinned, tugging me up from the table. We slipped out of the dining room, unnoticed by her cousins who were too busy arguing about the last slice of pie, or seconds away from passing out on the extra-large leather recliner in the corner. Winnie grabbed the keys to one of the trucks and led me out into the crisp night air. The farm was quiet now, save for the distant sounds of animals settling in for the night. String lights led the path beyond the front porch to the garage, and I followed as Winnie’s hips swayed in front of me.
We climbed into one of her uncles trucks, the engine roaring to life as Winnie drove us down an old, winding path that stretched far beyond where the house lights could reach. The road twisted and turned, dry dirt kicking up behind us, leading us deeper into the property until all we could see were fields stretching out into the distance and the faint outline of mountains on the horizon.
She parked the truck in the middle of nowhere, where no one could see us. Where lights were in the distances but it was just us here. And the cows that were occasionally mooing a few fields over. We both hopped into the back, sitting side by side, our legs dangling over the edge. The sky above was an endless sea of stars, and the cool breeze carried the scent of earth and grass.
“I can’t believe you live in Philly when you have… this,” I said, gesturing out at the view.
Winnie smiled softly. “I can’t believe I ever left it in the first place.”
I let out a slow breath, understanding washing over me. “I get it now. Why you were so upset at the thought of not coming in for Thanksgiving. Not seeing them, or this. I understand.”
She sucked in a breath, her body going still for a moment before she nodded and leaned into me. “It’s hard to not be here.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
The silence between us was comfortable, the kind of silence that didn’t need filling. But then Winnie’s voice broke through, soft and curious. “Are you missing your folks?”
I snorted at her use of “folks”- the works of just being in Alabama already kicking her into her factory settings- and shrugged. “I guess. I mean, I miss them because it’s Thanksgiving, and I know they’re all together. But… even if I was there, I wouldn’t feel fully there. Like I’m just maybe reaching fifty five percent you know?”
“Yeah,” she said softly, her voice trailing off as her fingers brushed against mine. “Do you feel fully here?”
I hesitated for a second. “Honestly?”
She turned to look at me, her eyes searching mine, auburn hair blowing in the wind. “Please.”
“Whenever I’m with you, I am a hundred percent there. Wherever we are.”
She hummed, leaning her head against my shoulder. My hand found its way to her hip, my fingers caressing the fabric of her dress, feeling the warmth of her skin underneath. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else right now, couldn’t imagine feeling more grounded than I did in this moment.
“Can I ask you something?” Her voice vibrated through my chest.
“Only if I can after.” I had one question weighing over me.
“Of course.”
“That day…when you were headed back to Philly. We were on the phone and you were-” She paused, searching for the appropriate word. She didn’t need to explain though.
“Yeah, what about it?” I leaned a little closer to her.
“Does it happen a lot? I was just wondering because I’ve been on anxiety medicine after I got a lot of anxiety and panic attacks back to back but I didn’t know if-”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “It happens a lot.”
“How often?”
“In the city? All the time. Here or…I don’t know,” with you. “in quiet places.”
“Do you-”
“I have ADHD.” I blurted it out and the entire ten seconds afterward I kept trying to think how I could toss it back inside of me. Why did I tell her? Why was she the one I told first? “I mean-”
“I kind of figured.”
“Oh,” was that a bad thing?
“Lottie does too. Have ADHD, I mean. It’s probably more common than people realize but most people don’t go to actually get diagnosed and everything.”
The knot in my chest unraveled just a touch. “So you, like, don’t think it’s weird?”
“I think it makes you.” Her head turned to face me and I followed, our noses inches away. “And I like you as you.”
And suddenly the thoughts of my broken brain or disorganized thoughts or missed bills were fluttering away into nothingness. Until all that was left of me was this shell of a man that was really falling for the pretty woman in front of him.
Winnie smiled at my expression, I wondered what I could even look like right now, gawking at her like a pigeon or something. She looked up at the stars, taking in the view. I kept my eyes right on hers.
“Alright, my turn.”
She nodded. “Hit me with it, Wells.”
“Your parents…they’re not here?”
She smacked her lips in a pop of a “Nope.”
I hummed, wondering where the line was on the topic and how I could possibly push it further into territory where I was allowed to know her deeper.
“I’ve never met them, really. My mom is Nana’s daughter. Apparently something happened with her and my aunt, Lottie’s Mom, and they haven’t spoke since. It was when she got pregnant with me, though. The family said they could stay if she apologized for…whatever she did and she wouldn’t. So, she had me in Oak Ridge and left me with my Nana. I was kind of raised equally by everyone here, but I lived in the big house with my grandparents and Lottie’s parents most of my life.”
I nodded. “So, you lost two parents but in a way…you gained four.”
She beamed at me. “Exactly. Sometime I used to wish I was in a different family, one with an actual mom or siblings for me. But then I think about it now, and I couldn’t imagine being with any other family.”
“You know,” I said after a beat, “I saw this video that said there is a one in a trillion chance of you being born.”
Winnie looked up at me, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”
“Mhmm. One in a trillion chance, and somehow… I got this version of you with me. I’m really, really grateful for that.”
She smiled, the kind of smile that made my heart stutter in my chest. The kind that felt like she would only give to me. “Out of a trillion people, I’d like to think I’d pick you again and again.”
Her words sent a rush of warmth through me, and I leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. It wasn’t the first kiss we’d shared, but it felt like the most important one. The stars above us seemed to burn brighter, the air felt warmer, and everything else in the world faded away.
Our mouths moved together, pushing and pulling, and as much as I wanted to be present in this moment; somewhere in the back of my mind I was picturing a future with Winnie. One where we could visit Willow Creek anytime we wanted. Where we could have each other and not worry about anything else. Of more nights in her bed, her in mine, of sleepy ‘good nights’ and groggy ‘good mornings’. I pictured a future in which I could love her anyway I wanted. Kiss her any way I wanted.
As the kiss deepened, the world around us grew quiet, fading into the background as all I could feel was her. Her hand pressed against my chest, her heartbeat matching the rhythm of mine, and I knew that this wasn’t just some holiday fling. This was real. This was everything.
And as the night stretched on, with nothing but fields and mountains surrounding us, I realized that I didn’t just understand my family better now—I understood Winnie. I understood us. And there was no going back from that.
I loved her with all of the broken pieces of myself. And she put them back together without even trying.