Chapter Thirty-Four
Lorena toweled off. “I’ll see you after Thanksgiving.”
Spencer passed her a water bottle. “Doing anything special?”
“My husband’s sister and her family are coming to New York, and we’re going to have dinner out and see the holiday sights before they go home.”
“Sounds nice.”
“What about you?”
“Haven’t decided yet.” It was getting down to the wire, but he was still on the fence about going home for Thanksgiving.
On the one hand, he wasn’t looking forward to a whole holiday’s worth of comparison to his dad at his age.
But at the same time, he had no idea what to do with himself instead.
The gym was only open for a few hours on Thanksgiving, and he’d taken the next few days off when he’d thought he’d be away.
Lorena headed to the locker room, and Emily approached him. “Couldn’t help overhearing that your holiday plans were up in the air.”
Spencer nodded. “That’s true.”
“Barry hosts a dinner for people who can’t afford to fly home or don’t go for one reason or another. You should come.”
Spencer was all set to politely decline but couldn’t bring himself to do it. The only reason he was still planning to go home for Thanksgiving was that he hadn’t known what he’d do instead. But now new plans had presented themself.
“That sounds good,” he found himself saying.
“It usually is, and I’d say that even if they didn’t have their own courtyard.”
“Nice. Do I need to bring anything?”
“You’ll have to ask him exactly what, but how this works is, all he and his husband make is a turkey. Everybody else brings sides, starters, and desserts.”
Barry readily accepted Spencer’s RSVP and requested that he bring a side dish or two.
That would be easy enough, but the hard part was still to come.
He waited until his nephew would theoretically be asleep, then called his sister.
After a few minutes of small talk, Laura asked, “When are you coming for Thanksgiving again? It’ll be here before we know it. ”
He took a deep breath. “I’m not going to be able to make it. The fact is, I haven’t felt so hot lately, and it would be better to stay here.”
“That’s all the more reason to come where it’s quiet!” An ill-timed ambulance cut off the first part of her statement but rounded the corner to let Spencer hear, “...take care of you at home.”
“I am home.”
All at once, he realized he wasn’t saying it to be argumentative. He’d made his little studio feel like a home rather than a holding cell. He’d done so well at work he’d gotten promoted, he had new friends, and he’d found love again here.
“Look, the stress of travel and everything isn’t going to help. I’ll still see you at Christmas”—he should be further along in therapy by then—“but I can’t make it now.”
After hanging up, he canceled his ticket home. Now someone else who wanted it could have this last-minute opportunity, and he could have a quiet holiday.
The night before Thanksgiving, he sent Misty a text from the bed in his quiet apartment.
Spencer: I feel so much better from avoiding travel alone.
Misty: I hear that. This upstate airport was peaceful compared to Kennedy, but still wild.
He knew exactly what she was talking about, having seen the travel mayhem on the gym’s TVs.
Spencer: Oh MAN.
Misty’s next reply came a few minutes later.
Misty: I hate to think of you spending Thanksgiving alone.
Spencer: I won’t be. I made other plans with some friends.
It came out as easily as when he’d told his sister he was home. For so long, he’d only thought of everyone he saw at the gym on a daily basis as just colleagues.
Spencer: And this means I’ll be in the city when you get back.
Misty: I can’t wait for that.
Misty: If my parents weren’t right down the hall...
Spencer: When you get back, we’ll do everything in person.
As much as he regretted deleting their old texts, it filled him with contentment to watch the screen fill with new texts to reflect this new stage of their relationship.
****
“Oh, my gosh, look at you!” Misty’s sister was over halfway through the pregnancy and starting to show. Thanksgiving morning was the first time they’d seen each other in months.
“Look at you!” Natalie countered, squeezing Misty’s enlarged bicep. “What have you been doing at bobsled camp?”
“Running, lifting, the cruelest calisthenics, and lugging a 600-pound sled.” It had been as exhausting as she made it sound, and yet the past few days had felt oddly empty without it.
The new family homestead wasn’t too different from Lake Placid in terms of temperature and silence, but last night had been unnervingly lonely without Tish in a neighboring bed or roommates in every extra inch of space.
“All right, we need to get a meal together!” Janice cut into the conversation. “Natalie, you promised us a cranberry apple pie. Lisa, you said you’d bring your grandmother’s sweet potato recipe. And Misty, just because you’re a star athlete doesn’t exempt you from getting the mashed potatoes made.”
Everyone followed her into a kitchen twice the size of the one the Kaufman girls had grown up with in New York.
It was refreshing to be able to have everyone in there together, and space for more than one dish to be prepared at the same time.
At the same time, the atmosphere reminded Misty of Thanksgivings growing up.
When the meal was on the table, their dad started the tradition of everyone saying what they were thankful for. “I’m thankful to have us all here together.”
“I’m thankful that my girls are doing so well,” their mom said.
“Natalie, Lisa, it makes me so happy to see you on the way to starting your own family. And Misty, it never occurred to me to picture anything you’ve accomplished this year.
I say that because they simply never occurred to me, not because I doubt your abilities.
I am so impressed with and proud of you. Good for you.”
It sounded warmer and more sincere than any time she had deployed the phrase in the past few years. That in itself was something to be grateful for, but Misty didn’t say that. “I’m thankful for all the people in my life who supported me on the way to this.”
As her sister said, she was thankful to have reached a less painful stage of her pregnancy, Misty reflected on the truth of her own statement.
Without Tish’s determination that they go to the Games together, her mom’s vague but well-meaning encouragement, and Spencer’s unfailing belief in her, she doubted she would have gotten this far.
Especially Spencer. As good as it was to be with her family, and as good as this dinner looked, she couldn’t wait to get back to New York and see him again. For everything he’d promised last night, and for the sheer joy of being with him.