Chapter Thirty-Five
Spencer shifted the Sullivan Street Bakery bag into the hand carrying a bag of bottles so he could buzz Barry’s apartment. At the sound of the click, he held up his bags to announce his arrival.
“Turn left, and then third door from the end,” his manager rasped over the intercom. He followed the directions inside and was reminded of visiting friends’ houses as a kid.
He opened the door to see a large group already gathered. He recognized some people from the gym, but others were total strangers. One group was gathered in front of a football game in the living room, and a few intrepid souls were gathered outside in the private garden.
In his cashmere sweater and khakis, Barry looked more formal than Spencer had ever seen him.
His professor husband, Patrick, whom Spencer had seen dropping stuff off at the gym a few times, was working at the stove.
The two of them looked like a particularly progressive Williams Sonoma advertisement or made-for-TV holiday movie.
“Nice place,” he said, putting the bag of rolls down in the kitchen.
“Thanks. We knew we didn’t want to leave the city, but the idea of a yard and a little more privacy wouldn’t let go.”
As Spencer would have been going home to a similar environment if he wasn’t here, he understood where his boss was coming from. “I got this one to go with the turkey”—he held up a bottle of wine—“and this for people who don’t drink.” He put the wine down and held up a non-alcoholic sparkling drink.
“Good call. It’ll still be an hour or so before everything’s ready, so chill out until then.”
“Is there anything else I can do?”
Barry croaked out a laugh. “There isn’t room for that in this kitchen. The biggest help anyone can be is by not getting underfoot.”
With that in mind, Spencer went out to join the gym crowd outside in a cutthroat game of Uno.
Barry’s military precision must have still been a part of him, because he and Patrick were calling everyone to dinner after almost exactly an hour.
The table was fairly groaning under the weight of the turkey, the traditional sides, and the more unconventional dishes.
Spencer wanted to try as much as he could, but even one bite of everything would have filled him up before dessert.
The non-alcoholic sparkler went faster than the wine, but conversation didn’t suffer for it.
The woman next to him was a makeup artist working on an off-Broadway show with performances that weekend, the guy across from him had come from Indonesia to do his Ph.D.
at NYU, and everyone had interesting stories to share.
Maybe there were too many other interesting things to discuss, or maybe it just wasn’t part of the day.
Either way, no one dwelled on why they were spending Thanksgiving here instead of with their families, and Spencer followed suit.
He himself had had to cut some past Thanksgivings short because of travel to tournaments, and if he’d seen the engagement through to marriage, he would have spent some time with his in-laws.
It shouldn’t have been as big a deal as his family had made it out to be.
When no one could eat another bite, the group got the table cleared in no time at all.
Spencer drew a long straw that allowed him to kick back outside while other people cleaned the kitchen.
Not being a fan of It’s a Wonderful Life, which was now on the big screen, he headed outside for some fresh air with his hosts and some of the others not on cleanup duty.
A guy whose name Spencer hadn’t caught poked his head out the door. “I smell something burning,” he said over the noise of the smoke alarm.
Patrick jumped. “Shoot. I should get the dessert out of the oven. It’s been in the warmer since before dinner, and I forgot all about it.”
“Go.” Barry kissed his husband and watched him walk back inside.
Spencer allowed him a moment before asking, “How long have you two been together?”
“We got married in 2019 but have been together since...early 2010.”
Spencer exhaled. “Wow. That’s impressive.”
“Well, on and off starting in early 2010,” Barry corrected himself.
“We first met shortly after Obama had signed the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, but it didn’t become official for several more months.
We tried to keep it low-key, didn’t imagine anything would come of it, but we kept finding our way back to each other. ”
He looked Spencer in the eye. “So as you can see, I’m no stranger to ambiguities.”
“I’d say not.” It was the first time Barry had alluded to their discussion since that day in the office, and it pulled Spencer out of his impending food coma.
“The whole time I was in the service, I respected our rules and policies. But the more I saw of him, the less sure I was that one size fits every situation, and it’s a lesson that’s stayed with me all this time.
For example, if I have one guy who’s screwing around with all his clients, that creates trouble for him and the gym as a whole.
But if another kept things professional and didn’t act on any urges until his client was no longer in that capacity. ..that’s not a problem.”
“Thanks.” It came out more as breath than speech, so he spoke again. “Thank you.”
“No need. Just keep up the good work and professional attitude.”
The door to the garden flew open again, filling the air with smoke. Patrick poked his head back out. “This was supposed to be toasted marshmallow and sweet potato pie, but it became en flambé.”
“Let me see that.” He set the blackened dish down on the stone table, and Barry sliced into it.
“Okay, so it’s not pretty enough for Instagram, but it looks like the marshmallow topping was the only part that got seared.
I see that some of it was spared, and there’s no reason we can’t see how this turned out if people want. ”
A lot of people did want, so they rushed inside to get plates.
Spencer only took a small sliver, the better to save space for the apple cake and the fall-themed peanut butter dip with homemade chocolate cookie dippers.
He was going to have to double up on his workout after this, but the whole point of the holiday was that no one did this every day.
The party broke up around 9:00 PM. At a red light, he got his phone out and saw a missed call from his sister. It rang four times before she answered in a hushed voice. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Well, we finally got the cranberry sauce washed out of Miles’ hair.” Laura sounded exhausted but happy. “He’s asleep upstairs and we’re all watching Home Alone now.”
The title gave Spencer a flashback to Thanksgivings as a kid, when it had become the Whitfords’ way of kicking off the holiday season. “How’d it go today?”
“It was nice, but it wasn’t quite the same.”
He knew what she was getting at, and mentally swatted away a pang of guilt for not coming to his family’s celebration. “Yeah. It was different but nice.”
“What?” Laura cut him off to talk to someone in the background, and he heard her say, “It’s Spencer.”
She got back on a short time later. “Here, Dad wants to say something.”
“Wait—” But it was too late, and Laura was handing off the phone. Spencer felt any remaining buzz starting to die down. He and his dad hadn’t talked since that evening all those weeks ago, and it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice in the matter now. He’d keep it as short as possible.
“Dad.”
“Spencer.” Mitch Whitford said the name like he was trying out a foreign phrase. “I saw your promotion online. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” Spencer couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. He couldn’t remember the last time his dad had expressed any interest in his professional life away from the insurance office.
“I also think I need to clarify something.” His dad hesitated before speaking again.
“I know I mention how things were when I was your age a lot, but it’s not because I’m trying to shame you.
Yes, I worked hard, but I didn’t have to work myself into the ground to provide for my family, I was able to take real time off without interruptions.
..When I say what it was like when I was your age, it’s my way of saying I wish it could be the same for you and your sister. ”
Speaking of his sister, Spencer heard Laura in the background. “Tell him the rest, Dad.”
Mitch’s aggrieved sigh filled the phone.
“I didn’t realize I did it so often until tonight.
We all sat down with full glasses of wine before dinner, and your mom noticed that your sister and Isaac brought nearly empty glasses to the table.
It turned out they were taking sips every time I mentioned what things were like for me. ”
For the first time all day, Spencer wished he had been at his family’s Thanksgiving celebration. It also made him wonder about Laura’s voice earlier. Was she tired or tipsy?
His dad was still talking. “My point is, every parent hopes things will be better for the next generation. But between what I see on the news and how I see the two of you working at all hours of the day, tethered to your phones and email even when you’re not physically at work, it seems to be worse for yours. ”
Spencer couldn’t decide whether to be flattered or exasperated.
If that was how his dad felt, maybe he shouldn’t have spent most of Spencer’s life voting for candidates that seemed dedicated to holding onto their own way of life at the expense of future generations, switching only when the party had come to be defined by maniacs.
But on the other hand, it was incredibly validating to hear his dad assure him he wasn’t a screw-up.
“Things are good for me, and I’m not constantly working,” he said. “I have a flexible schedule that lets me take time off when I want it. All that means is I don’t necessarily work nine to five, Monday through Friday.”
He felt sure he’d been over this, but his dad seemed to be taking it in for the first time.
He stayed silent, giving Spencer more room to speak.
“It’s decent money, and the promotion brought even more perks on top of benefits that were good to begin with.
But even if it wasn’t, I’d still rather be active and work with people like that than be locked in that insurance office. ”
His dad sighed at the reminder. “I suggested that for you because it helped me get off to such a good professional start.”
“But I’m not you.”
“I always knew that, but I’ve come to respect it more now. What you’re doing is a better fit for you—that’s obvious to me and everyone else. I’m just sorry I didn’t see it sooner or do a better job of making sure you knew that.”
“It took a while to find my feet after the accident, but now I have.”
“Yes. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to lose everything you’d worked so hard for and start over.”
“It wasn’t easy, and I’m still grappling with parts of it. I’m back in therapy, though.”
“That’s good.” Spencer heard another whoosh of breath.
“My point is, I was so focused on trying to help you move forward at the time that I didn’t give much thought to how hard it all was physically and emotionally.
But you didn’t give up, and I’m proud of you for it.
When I was your age, I don’t know how or even if I could have recovered from such a setback. ”
“Thanks.” It sounded inadequate, but Spencer was rendered speechless at the first “when I was your age” remark that compared him more favorably to his father.
“But what else is going on with you? How are things going at work?”
Spencer was surprised at the question, but indulged his dad with stories about his days and clients. Mitch was a better audience than he expected, asking questions and laughing in the right places. He was so caught up in the conversation that he nearly walked past his building.
“I’d better go before you get cut off in the stairwell,” he said as he unlocked the front door.
“Okay. I’m going to call it a night, too. See you at Christmas?”
“Definitely. Looking forward to it.” He meant it. Between this, the assurance about his job, and Misty’s impending return, he had a lot to be thankful for this year.