“Sunday roast, just like Mum makes,” Drew says, referring to Brodie and Graeme’s mother, Morna, who she’s called Mum since long before she and Brodie got married.She ushers me toward the decorated chair and settles the tiara on my head once I’m seated.I didn’t see Brodie leave, but he reenters the room now with a serving dish in each hand.My mouth waters as I survey the feast laid out before me: roast beef, crispy potatoes, carrots, parsnips, Yorkshire pudding, and gravy.
“It may be just like Mum makes it, but I doubt anyone has ever cried over hers,” Brodie says with a gentle smile.
I glance around the table and realize everyone is looking at me.I blink, causing tears to slip down my cheeks.“Well, that’s embarrassing,” I murmur, swiping at my face.
“Brought to tears by a roast dinner.”Drew chuckles, but the way she eyes me, steady and knowing, tells me she understands.When The Crew visited Scotland, we dined out most of the time, but Morna insisted on feeding us several meals, including a traditional Sunday roast.Drew and I had grown accustomed to being loved and cared for by the MacKinlay brothers, but there was something about the seven of us crowding around the table, laughter and voices mingling in the air with the savoury scents of a homemade meal, that made both of us emotional.All we ever wanted was to have a family we belonged to, and being in Scotland drove home the fact we’d finally found it.
But then there’s something Drew doesn’t know: I had a chance to be part of the MacKinlay family in the same way she was, but I let it slip through my fingers.
Brodie carves the roast, and the four of us fill our plates.As we eat, Fern tells us about the latest classes she’s been taking, including hot yoga and tarot reading, and then Drew shares about a social studies project she has her sixth-grade students working on.I’m happy to sit back, stuff my face, and listen since I don’t have much to contribute to the conversation.
After dinner, Brodie insists on clearing the table while Drew pours glasses of Drambuie.She hands me one with an enigmatic smile, and taps her glass against mine.“Slàinte.”
I echo the Gaelic toast.Our eyes stay locked as we take our first sips of the sweet and spicy whisky liqueur.In our university days, we were all about cheap liquor, but Brodie and Graeme introduced us to whisky on our trip to Scotland.None of us particularly liked it until we tried Drambuie.Brodie kept introducing us to different whiskies over the years, and while Fern still isn’t a fan, Drew and I have refined our palettes.Still, the smooth, honeyed flavour of this liqueur is a mutual favourite.
“That was hands-down the best meal I’ve had in ages, butpleasetell me it’s time for presents now,” Fern says.
Drew glances toward the door, then to the small pile of beautifully-wrapped gifts on the sideboard.The sight of them has been taunting me since we sat down for dinner.Drew said we were celebrating tonight because their gift was something I needed to have before my actual birthday, but there arethreegifts in that pile.
Birthdays have always been a big deal for The Crew.We celebrate each year, whether it’s a ‘big’ birthday or not, but we’ve gone all out for the milestone years.For Drew’s thirty-fifth in December, we spent a long weekend in Quebec City, sightseeing and visiting Christmas markets.Fern’s thirtieth aligned with a masquerade ball she wanted to attend, so we got tickets and lived out our Cinderella dreams in the most gorgeous ball gowns.
One of the wrapped boxes is long and flat, which makes me wonder if it contains a fancy dress.
Drew has just finished moving the gifts to the table when Brodie appears in the doorway holding a cake.“Okay, ladies, do we want dessert now or later?”
“Later,” Fern says immediately, eyeing the presents in front of me.She’s always been the type who will buy or make someone a gift and want to give it to them immediately, even if it was meant for an occasion that was weeks away.
Brodie looks at me for confirmation, and I nod.“Later it is.”He stops at my side to show me the cake.It’s covered in pale purple icing, with a beautiful, intricate design of thistles all around it.
“You made me a cake on top of this incredible dinner?”I ask as Brodie takes it to the sideboard.“You guys are making me nervous.”
Drew laughs.“Nervous?Why?”
“You clearly have something up your sleeve, and I can’t imagine what it is.”While that’s true, I’ve also never been good at being in the spotlight or receiving gifts.Drew knows that, although it’s never stopped her from spoiling me with beautiful, thoughtful presents over the years.I’ll never forget the time she told me she’d keep trying until I believed I was worthy and deserving of good things.
“Open the smallest one first,” Fern says.
I pluck the small square one from the pile and open it to find a crocheted Highland cow made of copper-coloured yarn.“This is adorable,” I say with a delighted laugh as I hug it to my chest.“I love it.Thank you, Ferny.”
Drew directs me to open the long, flat box next.Inside is a red rain jacket like the one I had in university.I wore that thing until it was literally falling apart.I eventually had Drew get rid of it because I’d formed such a bizarre attachment to it I couldn’t do it myself.
She and I meet each other’s eyes now, and I wonder if she’s thinking about the photo we looked at earlier of me in Edinburgh.
“The rain jacket you have now is nice, but I always thought the red one suited you better,” she says.
My current jacket is one Rodger bought me a couple of years ago.It’s tan-coloured and was made by some fancy designer I’d never heard of.It’s a beautiful, high-quality jacket, but it never felt likeme.I imagine myself wearing this new jacket around Kingston, and wonder if it’ll help me to feel more like myself again after months of feeling so lost.
“It’s perfect.Thank you, guys.”I glance up in time to catch my friends exchanging a look.All three of them have their lips pressed together as if they’re suppressing smiles.
Drew’s voice vibrates with excitement as she says, “Open the last one.”
Slowly, I pull the final box toward me and run my hands over the paper.“This is too much,” I murmur.
“You don’t even know what it is yet,” Fern says with a laugh.
“The way you’re all looking at me makes me think it’s going to be too much.”
“Too much is our thing,” Drew says.“Open it!”
