“Well . . .”
“I’ve got an idea,” Jake’s dad said to Phil. “How about you teach this old man how to play your video game while Uncle Jake helps your mom in the kitchen for a bit. Then after dinner, we’ll all play together.”
That seemed to be reasonable enough for Phil, who nodded eagerly. Phil then waited, albeit somewhat impatiently, as Jake greeted and hugged his dad before hauling the older man off toward the living room. And his sister didn’t waste any time either. She moved to Jake’s left side, looped her arm through his free one, and guided him toward the double doors and into the kitchen.
It was then that it finally hit him, something almost overwhelming and yet so completely comforting that he didn’t really feel overwhelmed at all. It was just... Thanksgiving. The warmth of the kitchen, the smell of turkey filling the room, the quiet hum of the fan above the stove.
Krista headed over to the oven and peeked in, then straightened back up and motioned for him to join her. “I’m just about to start on the rolls. Can you help me with the potatoes? They finished cooking right before you got here.”
“Of course. What—”
“And while we’re working,” Krista interrupted, “I need to hearallabout him.” She grinned as she pushed a steaming pot full of peeled and cooked potatoes in front of Jake.
He raised his eyebrows as he stepped up next to his sister at the counter. “Him?”
Krista swatted at Jake’s arm, then reached into a drawer, pulled out a potato masher, and handed it to him. “Yeah,him. Rye. You’ve been really quiet about everything for the last few weeks. I heard more on the news than from you.”
Jake set his cane up against the edge of the counter and started mashing the potatoes with a noncommittal hum. Moments from the last few weeks replayed in his head, moments that, without him realizing it, had come to mean so much to him. A tightness in his chest had him almost holding his breath for a few seconds,and he glanced back up at his sister, who was grinning at him with an annoyingly knowing smile that he swore only she could pull off.
He shook his head. “No, no. I know what you’re thinking, Kris, and it’s not like that.”
“I’m not thinking anything,” Krista said, still smiling.
Jake groaned. “Really, Kris, it’s not like that. Rye... he’s just a friend. He’s just...”
“Jake, if you say ‘he’s just special to me,’ you realize that wouldn’t be an argument in your favor, right?” Krista laughed as she turned away from him to pull a tub of butter from the fridge. “And what’s wrong with it, if you—”
“He’s just a friend, Kris.”
“Uh-huh.”
Jake felt heat in his cheeks, which he knew meant something he really, really wasn’t ready to admit, but he tried to ignore it, and he shook his head again. “Heisjust a friend. A good friend, yeah, and he deserves to have just that for now. Nothing more than that, and certainly not... certainly no expectations of anything more. He needs afriend. Remember, you told me that yourself weeks ago.”
“Yeah, you’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry,” Krista said, plopping a huge scoop of butter into the pot as Jake continued mashing. The butter began to melt and quickly started to mix in with the broken-up potatoes. Krista stuffed the tub of butter back in the fridge as she continued, though her words were a bit reluctant. “It’s just, um, you’ve sounded... different on the phone the last few days.”
“Different, how?” Jake paused, one eyebrow raised, and stared at his sister.
She chuckled and then shot him a silly grin. “Well, less of a lunkhead, for sure. But also...” Her grin softened as she trailed off, and for a moment, she just looked at him with so much love. The tightness in his chest ached a little bit more.
“What, Kris?” he asked quietly.
“Happier, okay?” Krista answered, ducking her head as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ve sounded happier. And not just because your leg is getting better, I mean. It’s more than that.” Jake started to respond, to tell her that he’d been plenty happy, even before Rye had stumbled into his life, but she kept talking, her voice now low and soft. “So maybe it’s just that...youreally needed a friend, too.”
He blinked and looked down at the partially mashed potatoes. Chunks of butter were still melting into the mixture, and he started up with the mashing again, unsure of how to respond.
Had he? Had he been happier these last few weeks? And... was that because hehadneeded a friend, just as Rye had?
His sister’s hand came to rest lightly on his upper arm, and he paused again and glanced down and sideways at her, frowning slightly. “Kris, I’ve... been happy. Really. I love my life. It’s not, you know, where I thought I’d be if you’d asked me before the accident, but... that’s okay. I’ve been happy, really.”
He wasn’t lying. But something else tugged at him, at his heart, and he swallowed hard as his sister squeezed his arm.
“I know that, Jake,” she said gently. “It’s just...” She laughed lightly and then wrapped one arm around his waist and hugged him. “You’ve had a different note to your voice the last few weeks, especially when you mention him. And I love that. So much. I love that for you.”
He closed his eyes again and nodded slowly. Then she squeezed him tighter.
“So, if you’re happier because you have him,justas a friend, of course”—she let him go, but then bumped him playfully with her hip, and he shook his head with a laugh—“that’s wonderful.”
Krista moved back over to the fridge and took a moment to pull out a carton of whole milk and a jar of minced garlic. “It needs about a cup of milk and maybe two or three teaspoons of garlic. Think you can handle that?” she asked, glancing up at Jake with a wink as she set the ingredients on the counter.
