Chapter Ten
Liam
“Well, duh. Of course you’re going to spend Thanksgiving at my parents’ house with me.” I give Jude a chiding glance across the patrol car. “You think I’m going to let you sit home alone? With no turkey or even worse pie?”
Jude stares at me like I’ve suggested he jump off a cliff. “Liam, I can’t crash your family’s Thanksgiving.”
“You’re not crashing anything. I’m inviting you.”
“Your parents don’t even know me.”
“They know about you. I talk about you all the time.” I realize how that sounds and quickly add, “they like hearing about work stuff.”
He shakes his head, eyes fixed on the snowy road ahead. “It’s a family holiday. I’d be intruding.”
“My mom always makes enough food to feed the entire mountain. Trust me, one more person isn’t going to be a problem.
” I slow the SUV as we pass the elementary school.
A crossing guard waves and I wave back. “Jack will be there, and some friends of my parents from the pack. It’s not a small intimate thing. ”
“Kara’s going to love this,” he mutters.
“Kara doesn’t decide who my parents invite into their home.”
He gives me a flat look. “Did you actually ask your parents, or are you just assuming they’ll be fine with it?”
“It was my mom’s idea,” I say. “She’s excited to meet you.
” That’s not an exaggeration. When I mentioned Jude had no family and would be spending Thanksgiving alone, Mom practically ordered me to bring him.
She’d sounded personally offended by the idea of someone eating a frozen dinner on Thanksgiving.
Jude is quiet for a while, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I wouldn’t know what to bring.”
“You don’t have to bring anything. Just show up.”
“I can’t show up empty-handed to someone’s home on Thanksgiving. That’s rude. Even I know that.”
“Fine. Bring a bottle of wine. Both my parents love red.”
He exhales through his nose. “This is a bad idea.”
“No, it’s a fantastic idea. You’ll eat good food, meet some nice people, and have a real holiday. What’s wrong with that?”
Something flickers across his face and he turns to the window. “Holidays mean nothing to me.”
“I know.” I sigh. “But they should.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.” I grip the wheel, trying to think of what to say.
He can be obstinate and if I push him too hard, I get the opposite result of what I want.
I have to approach him in a way that tugs at his heartstrings.
“I’m not exaggerating when I say my mom will worry about you if you don’t come.
That’s just how she is. I wouldn’t be surprised if she drove food over to you if you say you’re not coming. ”
He looks at me with wide, startled eyes. “She wouldn’t do that, would she?”
“She might.” I laugh.
He groans and leans his head back against the seat. “God, Liam, why did you have to tell her I’d be alone? I’d have been fine. Now, if I don’t come, it’s like this big thing.”
Guilt twinges through me at the anxiety in his voice. My intention wasn’t to stress him out. I just wanted him to feel accepted and not to be alone on Thanksgiving. But if it’s going to ruin his day, I need to back off.
“No,” I say quietly. “If you really don’t want to go, I’ll get you out of it, Jude.”
He squints at me. “But you said your mom will come over with food if I don’t show.”
“She won’t if I explain that’ll make you feel even worse.”
He rubs his hands on his thighs. “It’s not that I’m opposed to a delicious meal or anything, and it’s very kind of your parents’ to invite me.
I just feel weird forcing my way into your family’s holiday.
Maybe if I’d met them at least once I wouldn’t feel so awkward about it.
” He frowns. “Plus, I know Kara is going to loathe me being there.”
“This isn’t up to Kara,” I say tersely.
“No, I know, but she seems to like me even less after we spent that day off together,” he murmurs. “And it’s not like she liked me before that.”
“Look,” I grumble. “You let me worry about Kara. You’re not forcing your way into my family’s holiday. We all want you there.” Now that I know he’d actually like to eat a Thanksgiving meal, nothing will stop me from getting him there.
The silence stretches, but there’s still hope he might come. I’ve learned by now that Jude’s silences aren’t refusals. They’re him wrestling with the part of himself that wants to say yes but doesn’t think he’s worthy.
“Okay,” he says finally. “But if it’s weird, I’m leaving.”
I laugh. “It won’t be weird.”
“It might be weird.”
“Jude,” I say with exasperation. “It won’t be weird.”
****
Full disclosure: It’s a little weird.
Not because of my parents or the food or anything like that.
It’s weird because Kara isn’t happy about Jude being invited to the holiday dinner.
I go to pick her up the morning of Thanksgiving, and when she gets in the car, all I get is a testy smile and then the silent treatment.
Or I should say she tries to give me the silent treatment but she can’t because she’s too angry to actually stay silent.
“I can’t believe you forced your mother into inviting Jude to Thanksgiving.” She glares at me, cheeks flushed. “I thought for once we could have a Jude-free day.”
“I didn’t force her,” I say calmly. “It was her idea. She was concerned for him when she learned he’d be alone on Thanksgiving. She worries about others, Kara.”
“Oh, and are you insinuating I don’t care about people?”
I laugh gruffly. “You sure as shit don’t care about Jude.”
“I told you before, I don’t trust him.” She rummages through her purse for a lip gloss, and then flips down the visor so she can use the mirror.
“He’s using you. I don’t see why you can’t see it.
He’s never going to move out. You know that right?
Why would he? He’s practically living rent free in a gorgeous home with a man who cooks his meals and probably does his laundry. ”
I grit my teeth, struggling with my temper. “I do not do Jude’s laundry, Kara. Jesus, why are you like this about him? You don’t care if I hang out with Jack or my other friends. But if I do something with Jude, you act like I’ve betrayed you somehow.”
“Because ever since he’s arrived in town you’ve changed.”
I scowl. “I have not.”
“Yes you have. I barely see you, and if I do see you, he’s almost always there, hovering,” she hisses. “Why is it you have to include him in everything? My god, Liam, you work with the guy and live with the guy, spend your days off with him—”
“I spent one of my two days off with him.” I hold up one finger for emphasis, but keep my voice even.
I refuse to be baited into a huge argument right before arriving at my parent’s house.
“You and I enjoyed the second day together as I recall. I took you out to a nice diner and even spent the night at your house.”
“Yes, and you act like you made a huge sacrifice too.” She snaps the visor closed and pushes her lip gloss back into her purse.
“That’s bullshit, Kara,” I sputter, losing my cool a bit.
“Whatever.” She throws up her hands. “It’s too late now. I’m stuck spending my holiday with Jude.”
I grip the wheel so tight, my knuckles turn white.
The rest of the drive is painfully quiet. Not the comfortable kind. The kind where someone is choosing not to say what they’re thinking, and you can feel the weight of all those unspoken words filling the car.
When we arrive at my parents, Kara seems calmer.
Dad greets us at the door and Kara is suddenly all smiles.
We enter the kitchen and she gives Mom a huge hug.
She laughs at something Mom whispers in her ear, and gives me a sickeningly sweet smile, resting her hand on my arm.
Maybe I’m just feeling irritable, but the way she does that feels more performative than affectionate.
Like she’s playing the part of the perfect girlfriend.
Dad pours Kara and me a glass of wine, and I hang out in the kitchen longer than I’d like.
Mom has everything handled, and if I try to help I’ll just get in the way.
But I don’t dare leave too soon. I don’t want to be accused of abandoning Kara too early in the festivities.
I’m stressed so I drink my wine faster than usual, and Dad gives me a curious look as he refills my glass.
“Everything okay, son?” he asks.
I force a smile. “Can’t complain.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but then my dad was a cop for a lot of years. He knows how to read people.
I take a deep breath and try to lower my blood pressure.
Instead of thinking about my argument with Kara, I focus on how cozy my parents’ home is.
The enticing scent of roasted turkey and sage waft through the house, and football plays on the TV in the other room.
Mom has set the dining table with the good china, the white plates with the blue trim that only come out twice a year, and the crystal glasses catch the gray afternoon light from the windows.
The kitchen is the heart of the house, big and open with butcher block counters, a farmhouse sink, and a six-burner stove that my mom treats like a sacred altar.
Right now, every surface is covered in food.
The turkey is resting on the counter under a foil tent.
There are sweet potatoes with marshmallows browning in the oven, green bean casserole, homemade cranberry sauce, and three pies cooling on a rack by the window.
When Dad leaves the kitchen to greet the other holiday guests, I stay a little longer to earn points with Kara, but then go in search of my brother.
Watching Kara perform for my mom is getting on my nerves.
Plus, I’m listening for the doorbell. I want to be there to greet Jude when he arrives, since he doesn’t really know anyone but me.