Chapter 21 #2
Several hours later, Carter and I are walking up the steps into Ivy’s house.
Our shift rolled by without much fanfare which is fine with me.
Most days around the firehouse are spent waiting for something to happen.
But on holidays, I’m always grateful when nothing happens.
The lack of calls simply means that everyone is spending the day safely which is how the holidays are meant to be spent.
“Hey, Ivy, we’re here,” I call out as we step inside.
We didn’t bother to change out of our work clothes so we’re both in matching navy pants and our firehouse shirts.
Kicking off our boots at the door like we’ve been taught to do, Carter takes a sharp left towards the bathroom as I head towards the kitchen.
I can smell dinner from where I’m at in the front of the house.
My mouth waters at the scent of it. I like to think I got my cooking skills from Ivy.
Even if she isn’t my birth mother, I still inherited my love of cooking from her.
“There they are, my handsome sons. Wait—one of you is missing, where’s Carter?” Her brows meet in the center of her face when she turns around and only sees me standing in the doorway. Donning a long, floral dress, she’s paired it with oversized gold earrings and bracelets to match.
“Who cares?” I hear Willow mumble under her breath from where she’s standing at the counter. She’s sprinkling marshmallows over what looks to be mashed sweet potatoes, finishing off her signature dish before popping it into the oven to bake.
“I heard that, Willie,” Carter grunts as he steps into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom.” He greets Ivy with a hug and a peck on the cheek.
“Good, I wanted you to,” Willow says to him with an edge to her voice. She jerks her head to one side and makes a face as he passes her.
“Brat.”
“Ass.”
They bicker back and forth, glaring at one another.
“What’s got into them?” I ask into Ivy’s ear while I’m leaning over to give her a hug.
“Haven’t got a clue. Willow’s been a little cranky since she got here a few hours ago,” she whispers back before letting me stand up.
She shrugs just enough for me to see before moving back towards the stove.
I look between Carter and Willow, both of whom are staring at their phones now, and wonder what the hell has gotten into them.
It’s not like them to be so snippy with one another.
“Hello? Happy Thanksgiving,” Coop’s voice calls from down the hall.
“Happy Thanksgiving, big brother.” Willow beams and takes off running.
When Coop steps into the doorway, Lola trotting in close beside him, she flings her arms around his neck and pulls him into a long hug.
Thanksgiving is a hard day for them as it’s also the anniversary of their mother’s passing.
Christmas isn’t easy either, but Thanksgiving is especially hard on them.
It’s part of why they come and eat with us every year so they don’t have to be alone.
“Thankful for you,” Coop says as he squeezes her tighter.
“Thankful for you,” she hums back. Pulling away, she looks at him with a somber smile. The air feels heavy for a moment before Ivy’s warm voice cuts through.
“I’m thankful for everyone in this house and getting to spend tonight with all of you. I’m especially grateful that all of you are here, safe, and surrounded by one another.”
“Cheers to that, Ivy,” Coop says, taking a step closer to her. “Thank you for having my sister and I join you and your family for another year.”
“Oh please.” She swats a hand at him before he pulls her into a hug, dwarfing her entirely. “You two are family. Have been for years. Thanksgiving wouldn’t be complete without you.”
He gives her a polite kiss on the cheek and reaches for my hand. “How was the day shift?” he asks, pulling me into a hug.
“Quiet, thankfully. I always sleep better when there aren’t any calls on holidays,” I say with a shrug.
“Can’t disagree with that,” he replies. “Hey, Carter.”
“Hey,” Carter calls back, not getting up from his seat or looking up from his phone. Ivy notices his lack of appreciation for Coop’s arrival and when I see her narrow her eyes on him, I know what’s about to happen.
“Carter Michael Jensen, you get off your butt right now and greet Cooper appropriately. That’s not how I raised you to treat your family,” Ivy scolds him from the stove, using the wooden spoon she’s holding like an extension of her finger.
His eyes snap up from his phone when she uses his full name.
Shoulder slumped, he stands from his seat and leaves his phone behind. “Sorry, Ivy.”
When he crosses the kitchen, he makes a point to glare at Willow as he passes her, knocking his shoulder into hers like a child.
“Hello, Cooper, you strapping young chap. You’re looking as dashing as ever,” he says to Cooper with gusto before pulling him into a full hug. When he pulls away, he plants a kiss on Coop’s cheek and smiles at him before turning to smile at Ivy.
“Smart mouth.” She sighs.
When she turns away, Coop shoves Carter back. “If you ever kiss me on the cheek again, I’ll deck you.”
“What? You didn’t like it?” Carter says playfully, making kissing noises at him. “Come on, come here, come give me another kiss.”
“Get the hell away from me, you freak,” Coop grunts, trying to slip under the arm Carter is using to hang onto him.
“Come on, Coopey, give me a kiss.”
I laugh at the two of them and feel my phone buzz in my pocket. Rolling my eyes at the show my two best friends are putting on, I take a few steps away from the chaos to read the new message on my phone.
Pick a board game and I’m in, fireman.
I feel the corner of my lips tip up as I read her message. It’s been a couple hours since I texted her and when she didn’t text me back, I figured she wasn’t going to at all.
I don’t know, I’m pretty partial to checkers. Feels like it’s our game now.
Checkers it is then.
I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving.
She sends the second message quickly after the first and I use it to continue the conversation.
My Thanksgiving has only just begun. I had the dayshift at the firehouse so Thanksgiving is a dinner only affair for me.
Ahh, I see. We’re more of a ‘Thanksgiving linner’ family, personally.
Linner?
I type back quickly, unsure of what she meant.
Yeah, you know, like a cross between lunch and dinner.
Linner.
Ahh, I see. And how was your linner?
“Dinner in ten, kids,” Ivy calls out. I glance up to see if she needs anything but am happy to find that Carter and Coop are grabbing the plates and silverware, finally acting like civilized men once more. I look back at my phone when it buzzes in my hand.
So good. My mom makes an amazing roasted chicken and George makes these double chocolate brownies that melt in your mouth. I thought my eyes were going to roll right out of my head they were so good.
I’d love to make your eyes roll that hard, I think to myself as I type my reply.
I’m sorry, roasted chicken? You know that turkey is the traditional bird of choice for Thanksgiving.
Of course I do even though I don’t know why. Thanksgiving turkey is gross
Ouch, doc, those are fightin’ words. I don’t know if we can be friends anymore.
I didn’t know we were friends in the first place…
The lingering dots of her text throw me for a second. What are they supposed to mean? Was she being playful or had I crossed a line.
Men are more straightforward in their communication while women want you to read the signs they’re sending you.
I consider the words from earlier in the day and decide to follow that logic, be straightforward, and shoot my shot.
You’re right, we’re not, we simply share a professional relationship even though one of us would like to take the other out on a real date if she’d let him.
Unfortunately that’s not possible seeing as how it would be a deliberate breach of the ethical code she has to abide by.
I’m thinking something close to home. Maybe my home. I’d like to cook for her I think. If only I knew what she liked.
You don’t need to be privy to that information seeing as how it isn’t going to happen.
We’ll see about that, doc
Miles…
I smirk at my phone because I can just picture what she looks like as she texts me—eyebrows pressed together, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, glasses sliding down her nose. When a soft hand lands on my shoulder, I look up to see Ivy peering up at me.
“Time for dinner.”
Nodding, I type a quick reply.
Time for dinner.
You should really consider my offer, I’m a pretty good cook. You *did* seem to like the soup I made for you, if I recall that correctly. Imagine what I can do with a full dinner.
Go enjoy your Thanksgiving with your family. I’ll see you on Thursday.
Yes you will doc, yes you will.