When my phone buzzes in my hand, I turn my attention back to it.
Happy Thanksgiving, doc. I hope you’re having a nice holiday and time off. You deserve it.
I’m grateful you came into my life when you did. You make me a better man and I hope to only get better with your help. I’m counting down the days until I get to see you again at our appointment next week.
Happy thanksgiving, fireman. I’m grateful that you were kind enough to take care of me last week when you really didn’t need to. It meant a lot to me. I’m also excited to see you next week. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll kick your ass again in checkers
I smirk at her message and type a response.
I’ll happily let you kick my ass whenever you want. I don’t know if you know this, but you do a cute little dance when you win. I find it very endearing.
I hit send on the message and stare at my phone waiting for her response. When I don’t get one right away, I slide the device back into my pocket and look up. Every pair of eyes in the room are locked on me.
“What?” I ask, looking between everyone.
“Who has you all smiley?” Brooks asks, the corner of his mouth hitched high.
I force my lips down into a scowl. “I am notsmiley.”
Quickly spinning away from them, I set a timer on the oven and move to the fridge to grab the mac and cheese Imade yesterday. The plan is to pop it in with the biscuits to warm it up and then serve everything at once.
“Oh, yes you were, big brother of mine. Who’s the girl?” Carter jabs.
“You tell me first,little bro,” I toss back over my shoulder at him. This earns me an eyeroll and more pouting.
“Whoever she is, it’s nice to see you so happy,” Billie adds. When I turn to look at her, she winks at me and gives me a nod.
While these people aren’t my actual family, they sure feel like it sometimes. We rag on one another like siblings do and watch out for one another in the same way. When you’re with a group of people so many hours out of the week, it’s hard not to feel like they’re part of you. Even when they’re trying to pry into your personal life where they don’t belong. I check my phone one more time but don’t have any new messages. Maybe she’s with her family, just like I’m with mine.
The timer goes off on the oven, signaling that the biscuits are ready. I pull them out and set them on top of the stove to let them cool and crank the heat up on it to warm up the mac and cheese a little faster. Organizing all the sides and meat on the counter top, I look to Carter who’s hunched over in his seat looking defeated.
“Carter, would it make you feel better to ring the lunch bell?” I push my lips out at him and speak like I’m talking to a child.
“Fuck you, Miles,” he pauses and scowls at me before standing. “But yes.”
I swallow my laughs to not piss him off further and watch as he stomps over to the doorway, leans out into the hallway, and loudly rings the bell we have anchored to thewall. We use it to signal that a meal is ready and within minutes, the entire dining table is full of bodies. As we eat, we share what we’re thankful for and what our plans are for after our shift is over. Most people are going home to kids or significant others while Carter and I are going home to our own version of family. Looking around the table, watching everyone eat the meal I’d made for them, I can’t help but be grateful to be sitting around the table surrounded by the men and women I am. My own version of an extended family that I’m thankful I get to spend another Thanksgiving shift with.
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 ofher 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.
