Chapter 5 Sam
SAM
I didn’t have it in my heart to turn down the invitation from Roger’s parents for Thanksgiving dinner.
From the moment Coach let it slip that this will be my first holiday season without Pops, I knew I was going to have to commit to an invitation from someone.
The kid’s dad just happened to be the first volunteer, and he got the squirts to extend the invite.
It's damn near impossible to say no to a five-year-old – especially a bouncing five-year-old girl wearing a Pickaxe jersey like a dress with pigtails and red and blue glitter on her face.
Driving to the suburbs is not exactly my idea of a good time, so it was a bit serendipitous that my car decided to suddenly stop working – although, the fee for the rideshare definitely sucks.
I make enough money to live comfortably, but it wouldn’t be the case if I didn’t live in the house I grew up in and didn’t have to worry about a mortgage or rent or a car payment.
I like my little slice of rural life just outside of the city, but the taxes still suck.
When the driver pulls up to the house, I feel like I stepped into one of those cheesy holiday rom-com movies.
Like any good Hallmark movie knockoff, Mr. Sanders is completely sloshed when Roger brings me inside.
But he isn’t the one to capture my attention.
I want to know who the silver fox is sitting on the couch.
Being a demi-pansexual man, my dating life has been rather eclectic over the years.
Rarely do I feel an instant attraction to someone on more than an acknowledgment that they are attractive.
But this guy is something else. I mean, he’s giving me Clooney vibes – not Batman Clooney vibes, but Ocean’s Eleven Clooney vibes.
Whoever he is, he is at least hitting the highlight reel in the shower when I get home and need to take care of things.
“That’s Mr. Kinsey,” Roger tells me while he leads me through to the kitchen to drop off the pies I brought with me. “He started working with Dad last year and ended up with the season tickets behind ours.”
Considering the Sanders are related to the organization’s ownership, everyone knows where their seats are: center ice about a dozen rows behind the benches – just far enough back to avoid the smell.
Usually for the Christmas game, I will drop some used equipment that isn’t safe to be used for play anymore to the kiddos, so I guess I was bound to meet this Mr. Kinsey eventually.
I’m just glad to get the early opportunity.
Then again, what are the odds that an older man that fit isn’t part of the heteronormative persuasion and still single.
May the odds be ever in my favor...
Shortly after I arrive, Mrs. Sanders has dinner ready to go for everyone, so I help set the table with the kids. Hell, I’m closer to their age after all – at least Roger anyway. There’s less than a decade between us whereas I’m pretty sure Jacob Sanders might be old enough to be my father.
The munchkins flank me before Mr. Kinsey takes his seat. I kind of wanted him next to me, but I at least get to see him the whole meal since he got placed in the seat directly across from me.
To start the meal, Mr. Sanders asks everyone to go around the table sharing what they’re thankful for. Without Pops around, I haven’t had much in my life to be thankful for this year, but I can feel that changing.
“Your turn, Chase,” Mrs. Sanders says to the other guest at the table.
Chase… At least now I won’t have to feel weird asking him for his name – or worse yet, calling him Mr. Kinsey all night.
Chase looks like he would rather be anywhere other than in the spotlight, but Mikey smiles at him and his tension seems to melt away.
“To be honest, there hasn’t been much in the last year to be thankful for,” Chase starts off, echoing my earlier thoughts.
“That is until Mikey here decided to put my name in the bucket for some hockey tickets at the company picnic. I won’t bore you with all of the details, but thank you, Sanders family, for pulling this old fart out of his hermit ways and showing me that I can still love the game of hockey. ”
Is it weird that I want to know the details? Mr. Sanders said Chase knows almost as much about hockey as he does, so what happened to make him not love the game? He doesn’t look like he had a career-ending injury. Maybe he wanted to go pro and was disappointed to not make the cut?
The tradition continues around the table. Roger is thankful for his job. Mr. Sanders is thankful for beer – which earns him a slap upside the head from Mrs. Sanders. After Mikey shares that he’s thankful for his Nintendo Switch, it’s my turn.
“As everyone but Chase knows, I lost my Pops this past year.”
The man across from me looks saddened by my statement. I’m not sure if he’s got any family, but if he does, the fact that he’s here means they’re not local. I almost wish… No, that’s too soon.
“Pops was never a great cook, so holiday meals after Gran passed were usually pizza or Chinese. He always said it’s the company you keep that’s important, not the food on the table. So Mrs. Sanders…”
“Call me Miranda, Sam. You may be closer to my son’s age than to me, but you’re not at the kid’s table anymore.”
Chase and Mr. Sanders chuckle at her remarks while Roger rolls his eyes.
I know the kid has a bit of a crush on me, but he’ll learn to deal with it as he gets older.
I don’t date down. Pretty much since the day I turned eighteen, I swore I would never look at anyone younger than me in that way.
Maybe it will change when I’m older, but for now, I can’t look at people younger than thirty without feeling like I would be dating a child.
Hypocritical considering I’m only twenty-five years old, but I’ve lived more in the first decade of my life than most people experience in the entirety of their life.
“Fine, Miranda,” I say with a wink. “You’ve cooked one helluva spread here, and I can’t wait to dig in to my first roast turkey in about sixteen years.”
I can see the moment that it registers with each of the adults that I was still a kid when Gran died.
Pops brought me up all by himself through all of it, including puberty.
First, I got the talk about girls and how not to get them pregnant.
Then, when I told him I thought I might also like guys, he did all kinds of research to find out how men have sex.
After that, I got to have my own talk with him – about not clicking on pop-ups on random porn sites.
I’m thankful he was always supportive, but that was not what a fourteen-year-old boy should be discussing with his grandfather after baseball practice.
Throughout the dinner, Chase catches my eye periodically as Mr. Sanders continues to get more and more exuberant in his stories.
The little ones keep butting in to talk to me about their school friends and what kind of cartoons they are into.
Allie is going on and on about some K-pop movie when Chase pipes up.
“I’ve finally watched it,” he says conspiratorially while leaning over the table. “I think Soda Pop is my favorite song now.”
She giggles and squeals simultaneously like only a five-year-old can do before her mother admonishes her to eat. It’s so weird to me, being here in a freaking family moment like this. I thought things like this only happen on television or in those made for TV holiday movies.
“I still can’t get over how the kids aren’t picky eaters,” Chase says when we all move to the living room to watch football. I know in this house, hockey will eventually take over, but there aren’t any games playing live yet.
“We always gave them a rule,” Mr. Sanders says as he flips the footrest up on his recliner.
“They have to try everything once. If they don’t like something, we try to not have it at family meals or will have a substitute option.
If they don’t like it, they have to give a reason – texture, bitterness, et cetera.
There are very few things we haven’t found a workaround for. ”
Huh… Sounds like how I dealt with Pops during his chemotherapy. Then again, the man was basically a toddler in an eighty-year-old’s body.
It honestly only takes about twenty minutes after dinner before Mr. Sanders is snoring away in his recliner. The kids, including Roger, have moved on to putting up Christmas decorations.
“It’s tradition to put up the tree and hang decorations before we sit down as a family to watch The Polar Express,” Miranda mentions while putting a blanket over her husband.
“Roger pulls everything out now and supervises the little ones so that his father can sleep off the alcohol. You boys just enjoy the quiet before the little ones decide you need to know all of the lyrics to the hot chocolate song.”
One on one time with Chase? Yes, please.