11. #FeministsGivegoodthanks #2
“And besides,” Brittany continues, “fried turkey is not ‘weird-ass food.’”
Matt just takes a swig of beer. “Well, who told you that soaking a frozen turkey in water for just three hours would defrost it?”
His wife holds her glare, but her nostrils flare when she mumbles, “Pinterest.”
Vance chuckles. Which sets Matt to chuckling.
I pull out my phone.
Brittany slumps back again. “Fine, laugh it up. I’ll just be known as the person who ruined Thanksgiving.”
Vance, his laughter dying, runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, maybe Mom’ll laugh about it?”
Brittany and Matt both look at him with eyebrows raised.
Vance grimaces. “Or, you know, maybe not.”
Brittany looks at me, and I glance up from my phone as Google Maps loads my location. “For as casual as we are at holidays, Mom is rather stringent on certain things.”
“Like having a turkey,” Matt adds, making Brittany glare at him again.
The address loads. If I’m right… I check the distance to the West Ranch’s nearest customer. The blue line between Vance’s mother’s house and them is short and doable.
“What are you looking at?” Vance asks, peering over my shoulder.
I click the screen off. “No one freak out. I have a plan.” Pointing at Brittany, I walk backward toward the side yard. “Can you stall your mom for a bit?”
She must hear the confidence in my voice because she suddenly looks hopeful. “Yes I can.”
“Awesome-sauce.” I turn and sprint toward the driveway.
“Wait, what?” Vance calls after me. His footsteps follow, catching up with me at the gate.
“Where are you going?”
“Shhh.” I put my finger to my lips then point to the window above us, where his mother is probably still in the kitchen, cutting radishes into roses. “I’ll be back,” I whisper, finger gunning him.
Vance snorts. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not leaving me this time, Rosie-girl. Not again.” He covers my hands with his, pulling me to him. “Besides, what are you? The Terminator?”
I feel my smile dim, his words making me pause. Me leave him ?
In a flash, all our previous interactions wash over me.
Me leaving him in the guest room at the wedding, turning him down for dates at the strip club, declaring I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend at the bar, trying to sneak out in the morning after sex rounds three and four, kicking him out of my apartment after declaring friends with bennies.
I’ve been pushing him away, making him leave. But he keeps coming back. Does… does that mean he cares? Like Ian said?
“Rosie?” He tilts his head, frowning, oblivious to the emotional shock I’ve just had.
Shaking it off, I pull my hands from his and unlatch the gate. Reaching back to him, I deepen my voice in my best Arnold Schwarzenegger imitation. “Come with me if you want your turkey.”
Vance
“Where are we going?” I hold on to the oh-shit handle above the door as Rose takes a turn at high speed. “Also, side note, turkey is not worth dying over.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “You strap yourself on top of a tank full of rocket fuel. You can’t tell me you’re scared of little old me behind the wheel, can you?”
She weaves in and out of holiday traffic like a drunk sailor on leave. It would be frightening if she didn’t do it so flawlessly.
“Of course not,” I lie. “Just wanted to make sure you’re aware of the limit on how far we’ll go for a bird.”
She revs the engine.
“ Death .” I glare at her. “Death is the limit in case you didn’t get that.”
Exiting the neighborhood by taking a right on Lake View Boulevard, Rose simultaneously thumbs the buttons on her steering wheel. The car speakers start ringing.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Robert Vincent?” Rose guns it to the traffic light. “This is Rose West of West Ranch.”
A beat of silence. “Uh, hello.” He clears his throat. “Yes, Ms. West, what can I do you for?”
Thankfully she stops at an intersection at NASA Road 1. “Well, Bob, I need a turkey.”
“A turkey.” Pause. “On Thanksgiving.” He sounds dumbfounded.
“Yep. And I know you’re just the guy who can help me.” The light turns green, and the back of my head hits the car seat when she stomps on the accelerator.
“Well, Ms. West, the shop is closed and I?—”
“I’m two minutes away.”
“You’re what?”
“I’m two minutes away from your butcher shop, Bob, and I’m telling you now that if you meet me there with a turkey, I will make it worth your while.
” She makes the left onto NASA and immediately changes lanes and shifts gears, shooting ahead.
“Not just for today’s turkey, but for your next order of beef from the ranch. ”
“I… I mean, I would, but you see?—”
We pass by Jules’ apartment building on the right.
“How does fifteen percent off wholesale sound?”
Silence.
Rose downshifts, slowing as she hits a red light. “Did I lose you, Bob?”
“Um no. I was just wondering, could you repeat what you?—”
“Fifteen percent. Plus whatever you deem a last-minute turkey worth.” The light turns green before she stops, and Rose revs the engine once more, passing a stopped minivan and an old pickup truck on the left.
“I’ll see you at the shop in five minutes, Ms. West.” He hangs up.
Rose coasts on a flashing yellow across westbound NASA Road 1 and onto Kirby Drive. A few seconds later the engine ticks as it cools in the parking lot of Bay Area Meat Market. I manage to pry my fingers off the panic bar.
She turns to me, all smiles, and pulls a wad of cash out of her bra. “And now we wait for the goods to be delivered.” She starts counting out her money in a calm, unaffected manner.
Meanwhile, my mind is reeling as fast as her car’s acceleration. “You don’t seem at all fazed by this turn of events.”
Rose shrugs. “Just another Thursday for me.” She pauses in counting her fifties. “Too crazy for you?”
Huffing out a breath, I laugh. “Not in the least.” Then I hide my shaking hands under my thighs.
Twenty minutes after we sped off in her Aston Martin, we arrive back at Mom’s victorious, wheeling a fifteen-pound turkey, already brined, trussed, and ready to fry, in a fold-out wagon.
“Oh my God!” My sister runs over to Rose, throwing her arms around her. “How did you manage this?”
Rose shrugs. “Just knew a guy.”
I scoff. “Knew a guy, my ass.”
Rose glares at me, annoyed that I hadn’t agreed to keep quiet on how she essentially hijacked a turkey on Thanksgiving Day.
“It wasn’t a big deal.” Rose hardens her voice, evil eye still in effect.
“You call arranging a discount price on the next order of beef the butcher buys from your family’s ranch just so he’d be willing to open shop and get us a turkey no big deal?”
Rose takes a menacing step toward me, turkey in tow.
I raise my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay.”
She holds the glare a second longer before tugging the wagon toward Matt, who’s already pulling the lid off the pot.
“And they just had a turkey lying around?” Brit asks me out of the corner of her mouth. “On Thanksgiving?”
“Nope.” I shake my head in amusement, the scene replaying in my head.
“They’d sold out. But seeing as the owner hadn’t cooked his own turkey yet, he handed over the bird his family was going to eat in exchange for a number Rose typed into her phone and flashed him.
” I whistle, remembering the way the man had nearly thrown the turkey at Rose, even giving her the wagon in which to haul it.
“That bird probably costs more than a car.”
In shocked silence, which is a rare occurrence for my sister, she watches Matt help Rose do the honors of lowering the bird into the oil.
“How am I supposed to pay her back?” Brit says, exhaling long and loud.
“If you even offer to, she’ll tit punch you.”
My sister chokes on air, turning to me wide-eyed. “What?”
“Her words, not mine.” I nod at Rose, who puts the lid on the pot, then takes a beer Matt is offering from a second cooler by the fire pit.
She smiles, eyes on Rose. “I like her for you.”
“It’s not really like that, Brit. It’s not serious.” I frown, wondering why when I say that in my head it sounds fine, but when I say it to my sister it doesn’t ring as true.
“I don’t care how serious it was , I care about how serious you’re going to make it.”
I open my mouth, but Brit talks over me.
“She got my baby brother to finally show up to a family gathering for more than just a plate of food and a good-bye.” Brit throws me some serious side-eye.
“I’m smart enough to know that if Rose wasn’t here, you wouldn’t be either.
” She punches me in the bicep before I can object. “Don’t fuck this up.”
Rubbing my arm, I wonder why I surround myself with such strong, violent women. “Sorry to burst your bubble, sis, but Rose and I are just friends.” I side-step in case she tries swinging for me again.
Instead, she laughs in my face. “Sure, sure. Friends.” She shakes her head, looking at me like she did when I was little and in trouble.
“Well then, you better step it up, little brother, because between Rose taking pole dance lessons with Mom, playing video games with the boys, and her willingness to buy a butcher’s turkey for me, I’d say the Bodaways are more likely to kick you out of the family and adopt her if you’re too stupid to lock her down. ”
I throw her a sardonic look. “First, thanks for that. Second”—I glance up at Rose, who has her head thrown back in laughter, looking youthful and stunning—"it would be a crime to lock her down. She’s only twenty-one.”
“Hey, if she’s okay with you robbing her cradle, so am I.” Brit turns to watch Rose stop laughing long enough to taunt Matt into a beer-chugging contest.
Huh. I thought for sure Brit would give me shit about her age.
Thought she’d agree with how illogical it would be to get serious with someone so much younger than me.
“Well then,” I say, my tone much more defensive than I mean it, “Not only is she young, but she’s a billionaire who is about to graduate college with a prestigious degree.
” Instead of reassuring me, my logical reasons for not being anything more than friends with Rose pinch at my chest.
I’d call it heartburn, but I haven’t eaten anything yet.
Brit simply throws her hands on her hips, looking condescending as hell. “So what you’re telling me is that she’s a great catch and you’re too chicken-shit to step up.” She claps me on the back so hard I stumble. “Good to know.”
“I—”
But she’s gone, walking over to Rose and Matt, leaving me on the sideline with my lame excuses, dead arm, and bruised shoulder blade.
Rolling my shoulder and shaking out my arm, I ease the pain from my sister’s attack.
But it doesn’t do anything for the pain in my chest.