JESSIE

I’ve always liked the holidays, but they’ve never quite lived up to my hoped for expectations. While growing up my family was somewhat isolated; my parent’s families were located throughout the east coast and absence didn’t necessarily make the heart grow much fonder. With no other close relatives living nearby, the three of us often celebrated quietly and without a lot of fanfare.

After my father died when I was sixteen, my mother no longer had the heart for holiday preparations. While growing up my family had always combined Hanukkah and Christmas, with the menorah holding an equal place of honor next to our artificial Christmas tree. My father didn’t really care much for the taste of Thanksgiving turkey or cranberry relish, so my mother usually prepared a holiday meal of roast brisket and potatoes. When I was seventeen, a boy I had been dating invited me to join his family for Thanksgiving dinner and it was then that I realized that roast turkey and stuffing were actually pretty wonderful.

I have to admit that one trait I’ve inherited from my mother is this sense of happiness when I cook for the people I care about. Lachlan’s been hovering about in the kitchen over the past couple of evenings while I’ve baked enough cookies and fudge to feed a small army. He reminded me of a little boy as he snagged handfuls of chocolate chips when my back was turned, eating spoonfuls of cookie dough and licking the beaters from the electric mixer. Whenever he sensed my irritation he started singing funny Christmas carols, adding his own lyrics and funny voices. 

“We three kings of orient are; tried to smoke a lighted cigar; we were loaded, it exploded...”

I almost doubled over with laughter, which isn’t easy when you’re eight months pregnant.  “You goof, it’s not Christmas yet.”

He just grinned and kept on singing. “Okay, how’s about this one:

Over the river and through the woods,
To Big Pappa John’s we go
The horse knows the way
But he wants to play
Pinochle and strip bingo…”

“I should be filming this. I could post it on YouTube with the heading, The Hidden Dangers of Cookie Dough Intoxication.”

“It’d be the most popular video of the week after those drongos who burn down their houses while trying to deep fry their turkeys.”

“Promise me that you won’t ever try to do that. I have a hard enough time straightening up after you just when you fry an egg,” I teased.

“Well, it seems like a good enough arrangement; I make the mess and you clean it up …”

He twisted aside when I flicked the hand towel at his butt, chuckling in triumph as he escaped danger. I was about to flick it at him again but he was quicker. The next thing I knew my arms were pinned at my side and he was nuzzling my neck.

“You really need to shave,” I complained, but wasn’t very convincing. He took a nibble of my ear and I felt my knees turning to jelly.

“You taste better than the cookie dough.” He licked my cheek and I squealed. “Kinda salty, but I like it.” He cupped my chin in his hand and turned my face to him for a fun sloppy kiss. It was about to lead into something more when a voice startled us back to reality.

“Bloody hell, you two at it again?”

Jeff stood at the counter, still in his mucky work clothes and helping himself to the newest plate of warm cookies on the counter. “It’s not enough that you knocked the plaster off my bedroom ceiling last night and then there was no hot water for my shower this morning, because someone was upstairs in the master bathroom chasing after his wife with the detachable shower head?”

I felt my cheeks burning. “Oh my gawd … you heard that?”

Lachlan closed his eyes and groaned, then grinned happily as if he was proud of himself. “We’re so busted.”

Jeff giggled, spitting out a sprinkle of cookie crumbs. “Simply shocking behavior. You straight folks have this annoying habit of advertising your attraction for one another without any care for the discomfort it causes others.”

The comment was a long standing joke between the three of us ever since Jeff and Matt became an item. While both men are very conscious about how some folks may view their relationship and kept their public displays of affection private, Lach and I often saw them with their guard down at home and to be honest, to me they’re just like any regular committed couple. But a sense of humor always rules the day and Lach and Jeff are forever going after one another like a couple of comedians at every opportunity. No subject is sacred.

I, however, was still feeling embarrassed over the thought of someone other than Lachlan overhearing my cries of orgasmic passion and quickly tried to change the subject.

“You’re still on to pick my mom up from the airport tomorrow morning, right?” Both Jeff and Matt had volunteered to play chauffer so Lach and I could have a little extra time together before my mother joined the ranks as one more resident in the ever expanding Curry household. Of course, it helps that my mom and Jeff get on like a couple of gossipy old hens.

“We’re heading out at seven AM and we’ll be there in plenty of time to bring her to the Inn safe and sound before the first turkey is carved.” He winked to let me know that he had everything under control. “You know Matt and I will take good care of her.” 

I watched as he grabbed another cookie. “You sticking around for dinner? We’re having stir fried chicken …”

He shook his head. “I’m heading back over to Matt’s after I clean up. We’re gonna broil up a couple of steaks and potatoes and watch a movie on Pay Per View.”

“Take a tin of cookies and fudge with you.” I reached over to hand him one of the tins I had prepared earlier.

“You’re bad for my diet, Jess, but I guess it doesn’t count during the holidays. We’ve all got a lot to be thankful for this year.”

The three of us shared knowing glances. Life is indeed pretty wonderful right now.

EMILY

I’m having trouble getting all fired up for the festivities this year and I don’t really think much can be done about it. Adam’s invited me to spend Thanksgiving with him and his friends this holiday, and while I originally thought that I might try and visit my mother in California, turns out she ended up making other plans. She’s actually going back to the Philippines to visit friends and family. Well, so much for that idea.

Adam’s such a sweet guy; he hasn’t pushed me into being anything beyond friends, but I can see the frustration in his eyes sometimes. Part of me wants to tell him to find someone else who’s ready to share her life without any baggage attached and yet another part appreciates his sense of humor and friendship. I guess the bottom line is that I’m hopelessly still in love with Kim.  

Pretty pathetic, isn’t it? He betrays me in the worst way possible, yet I miss him so much sometimes that it physically hurts. At work we both tip toe around each other, being overly polite, never discussing anything too personal. Part of me wants to rant and scream at him for acting like such a selfish careless idiot by throwing away what could have been something really special; and the other part wants to forgive him unconditionally. But I simply can’t.
  
So here I am, looking at spending the holidays alone, or taking Adam up on his offer and perhaps surprising myself by having an okay time. Maybe I should just force myself to accept the fact that what’s happened between Kim and me is simply over forever. It just didn’t work out. People in love break up all the time, right? 

I picked up the phone to call Adam and let him know that I was accepting his invitation, but I ended up dialing Kim’s number instead. I hung up before it connected, feeling frustrated with myself for making such a scatterbrained mistake. I redialed, taking care to press the right numbers and when Adam’s voice answered I found myself suddenly feeling better.  

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear this,” he replied after I told him of my decision. “I was hoping you’d change your mind.”
  
I smiled and tried to sound cheerful. “You may not know what you’re getting yourself into; I’m little, but I can eat an awful lot.” 

“Well, I love a woman with a healthy appetite. You may have to fight over seconds on the turkey; my friends are all pretty big guys and they can eat enough for an army and then some.”  

“I’ll make sure to fill up on stuffing and mashed potatoes then, just in case.”

“Be sure to save room for apple pie and whipped cream.”

“No pumpkin pie?” I asked.

“Well, I remember you telling me how much you liked apple pie, so I bought four of them.”

“Just how much pie do you think I can really eat?”

“I’m sure the others will help finish off whatever’s left over. How’s about I pick you up at two?”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Terrific. Emily, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but for what?”

“For saying yes.”

I felt a sudden heaviness in my heart, but I shook it off. “Well, I’m curious to see if you’re as good a cook as you claim.”

“You’ll be suitably impressed. I promise.”

After we hung up I felt hollow inside. Not because I regretted accepting Adam’s invitation but because I really wished that it was Kim inviting me to join him with everyone at the Inn. Will this ache ever go away?

JACOB

I like my dad. I was really scared at first; my mamma never told me very much about him. I don’t know why; he seems like a nice person, but the few times I did ask about him she got real sad and told me that it was just something that happened a long time ago. She’d get real quiet afterwards and sometimes she’d cry, so I learned not to talk about him very much. But I think she would like it if she knew that my dad is taking good care of me. I don’t talk to my dad about my mom because I don’t want him to get sad like she did.

I have a very big family; a lot of aunts and uncles and a whole bunch of cousins. My cousins are all younger than me, except for Valerie, but she tells me that we’re really honorary cousins. That’s what you call someone who is close to the family but isn’t exactly related. Her mom died too, but she told me that it was okay to talk about them sometimes when we’re together. And we do, but not too much. Valerie understands when I tell her how much I miss my mamma and that I hope she’s watching me up in heaven. Valerie told me that her mom will make friends with mine and keep her from being sad or lonely, and that makes me feel good.

I’ve never been to this kind of Thanksgiving before, but I saw one of the big turkeys in Aunt Riley’s kitchen last night. It was still wrapped in plastic but Uncle John had to take it out of the refrigerator because it was too heavy for Aunt Riley to lift. He made funny noises like it was too heavy for him to lift, growling like a bear, and then he laughed when he saw that I was watching him.

“I think that old bird weighs a much as you do, Jacob.” He picked me up and flipped me over his shoulder, not minding that I was wiggling and laughing, trying to get away. “Yup … I think that turkey definitely outweighs you.”

He sat me back down and ruffled his fingers through my hair before Aunt Riley called him to help her with something else.

“Better stay out of the way or Aunt Riley’ll put you to work too, buddy.” He winked as he went off into the other room, bending down to pick up Nathan on his way. I heard Aunt Riley laughing a few minutes later and it made me feel good to know that everyone is happy even if they’re busy cleaning up and getting ready for tomorrow.

***

This morning I woke up early, feeling all excited about everyone coming over to celebrate. I tip toed into my dad’s room to see if he was awake. I went over to the bed and it looked like he was still sleeping, but then he opened up one eye and yawned.

“Mornin’ mate.”

He stretched his legs out beneath the covers then reached over and grabbed my good arm and pulled me onto the bed with him.

“Aren’t you cold?” He wrapped me up in the covers and gave me a hug, scratching his whiskers against my cheek. It tickled.  

I threw my arm back and accidentally bopped him on the head with my cast, but he just laughed.

“I’ll be glad when the doctor takes this thing off. How much longer you got?” 

He really knows that it’s coming off next week because he’s picking me up early from school on Tuesday to take me to my appointment, but sometimes we pretend that he doesn’t remember. 

“Next week,” I answered, snuggling in closer. His body was really warm. 

“No more wrapping your cast up in plastic bags and tape when you take a bath.” He grabbed the other pillow and tucked it under his head, pulling me in closer as he reached for the TV clicker. “ESPN or Bugs Bunny?” 

“Bugs Bunny!” 

“Why did I even bother to ask?” 

He turned to the cartoon channel and I laughed when Elmer Fudd chased after Daffy Duck thinking he was a turkey. We watched for a little while and when it was over my dad looked over at the clock next to the bed. 

“Okay mate. It’s time for us to be getting ready. A whole bunch of people are arriving soon and there’s gonna be a lot of good food to eat. You remember the rule?” 

He was talking about how I have to take at least one bite of everything on my plate that I think I won’t like if I want dessert afterwards. I nodded and he gave me another hug. 

“Good boy. You don’t want to miss out on any ice cream and apple pie, so do your best.”

I hope it’s vanilla ice cream.

NATALIE

My eyes opened slowly and blinked. I was warm and snug in my bed, Jack cocooned behind me, his arm draped over my waist. Our room was dim, the drapes drawn against the morning light. The comforter was pulled up to our shoulders, keeping us safe against the chill. I could hear Jack’s soft snoring, his breath warm against the nape of my neck. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine us floating, nothing around us, alone in our private universe. Lost in the fantasy, I snuggled closer to him, his arm tightening around me in response, his lips grazing my shoulder.

Then the alarm buzzed, and buzzed, and buzzed again. Damn. I sat up, rubbing my eyes while Jack reached over and turned it off. He rolled to his back with a sigh, his arms stretched wide and dozed. I listened to the baby monitor and could hear Chelsea steady breathing while she slept in her crib. I cuddled against Jack. He turned toward me, hugging me close to him. “Good morning, my dove,” he mumbled as he went back to sleeping.

“Morning, Jack. Happy Thanksgiving.” He snored in response.

Thanksgiving. And what had I to be thankful for? If you had asked me that question even two weeks ago, I would have said “nothing, nothing at all.” But … there are blessings to be grateful for and cherish. One of them is lying next to me, my husband. The other is sleeping peacefully in her crib, my surviving daughter. Riley, John, Jess, Lachlan … each and every one of my odd family … they’re all blessings to be counted.

Yes, the last three months have been horrific and it will take a long time to recover. I will never forget Catherine and there will always be a piece of my heart that’s broken and can’t ever be fixed. But … on this day of Thanksgiving, I will count all my blessings and be glad of them.

And one of them has just woken up and is demanding my attention.

RILEY

Oh yeah, in case you didn’t know … I LOVE FAMILY GET TOGETHERS!!!! I love ‘em, I love ‘em, I love ‘em. Even with all the extra work it’s truly my favorite times of the year.

I had John move all our regular furniture out of the way and bring up as many long tables as we had in storage. I draped linen table cloths and placed lovely centerpieces and place settings and candles. I cooked and I cooked and I cooked and watched the family trickle in all around me. Heaven, pure heaven!

Eva and Terry arrived early and my heart began to warm. There’s definitely something wonderful that the great Mr. Thorne brings to a gathering. Maximus showed up with Sophia and beautiful month-old Lucy. I held the infant and stirred gravy at the same time. It was fantastic. As the men and women crowded in, more people crammed in my kitchen than anywhere else in the big apartment. The men snarfed bites of food and the women snuck cookies and goodies. My heart was warm and my smile just wouldn’t leave my face … especially when Jack and Natalie arrived with Chelsea who almost immediately reached for Antony. Jack was smiling at Nat, and Nat was smiling at Jack and at that moment I swear I felt all was good with the world. Then I saw it.

It started with a little gathering of the guys, talking quietly and looking out at the open field just past the new addition. Shit, I knew what they were talking about and it wasn’t the dead body of that poor murdered federal agent found out there last month. Oh hell no. Those men were talking the dreaded … traditional … greatly dangerous … Thanksgiving Crowe Family Football Massacre.

Damned if they weren’t planning it again! I so hoped they’d gotten it out of their system last year when Zack Grant had to have a broken finger set in the emergency room and poor John wrenched his back so bad he was sleeping with a hot pad for days afterward. He sure as hell wasn’t sleeping with me … I warned him he’d get hurt. These guys are getting too old for this crap.

But it was all falling into place and I had to accept the inevitable. It would be football after dinner no matter how hard we tried to talk them out of it. No wonder John made the construction guys leave the night lights up. Shit.

But the Christmas music was flowing, the beers were cold, the cider hot and the scent of turkey was in the air. There was always tomorrow to say ‘I told you so’. For today, it was time to celebrate our good fortune.

SAMANTHA

I’m not quite certain how Agent Cooper and I managed to find ourselves as guests among this interesting family of sorts, but I’ll be perfectly honest; I was hoping that I’d get a chance to see Egan Walsh again. Even if we didn’t get the opportunity to really speak to one another, it would be still make my evening to catch a glimpse from afar. While I didn’t spend my time mooning over strangers, I’m just as human as the next gal. I can appreciate an attractive man along with the best of ‘em.

It felt good to shuck off the uniform for one night, trading in my service revolver for a beaded evening bag. I’ve had this little black dress that I bought on a lark several months ago, never really knowing when I’d have the chance to actually wear it. It fits like a glove and after I finished my hair and makeup and stood in front of the mirror for a final look I almost didn’t recognize myself. I sometimes forget how long my hair really is as I always wear it pulled back in a tight braid. Tonight I wore it down and I caught myself smiling at my reflection; I felt damn good.

Agent Cooper looked pretty spiffy himself. Dark wool slacks, a soft red cashmere sweater; amazing how a simple change of clothing can transform us. Growing up as the youngest child in a large family I always wore hand-me-downs. From shoes to underwear, from pants to dresses, I didn’t own my very first brand new piece of clothing until my sophomore year in high school when I lettered in archery. I worked all that summer as a dishwasher at Ute Mountain Casino, determined to save the $350 needed to buy my letterman jacket. My mother was angry that I’d waste so much money that could have been used for more practical things, but my father put his foot down, stating that if I wanted that jacket bad enough then it was a good for me to learn the lesson of how hard honest work could bring some much sought after rewards.

We arrived at the Inn right on time. When I saw what the other women were wearing I felt a moment of panic; being overdressed is just as bad as the opposite, but when a familiar looking little boy came running up to me as we joined the merriment I smiled. Spirit was strong in this one, the son of Egan Walsh.

“You’re the lady police officer!” he exclaimed, his cheeks rosy and his eyes shining in excitement. “You look different. Your hair is pretty”

I laughed at his compliment, reminded of the wonderful candor of young ones. “I remember you too, Jacob Walsh.” I knelt down to greet him, quite impressed when he accepted my outstretched hand in greeting. “Have you and your father settled in comfortably here at the Inn?”

I was startled by the sound of a rich voice speaking behind me, but I recognized it immediately. “We’re doin’ okay for a couple of old bachelors.”

I turned to look behind me and up into the jade green eyes of the horseman. If I’d missed it during our first meeting there was no question about it now; spirit was wild and strong in both father and son. I felt a tingle down my back as I stood up to face him.

“You look well,” I observed, only to silently kick myself for not saying something more intriguing.

“And so do you, Officer De La Croix.” His eyes sparkled not unlike his son’s and I felt the spark of manly interest. “If you handed out speeding tickets dressed like that, I reckon the whole town’d be happy to show up in court.”

I laughed self consciously. “Please, I left the uniform at home today. You can call me Samantha.” He smiled and I actually felt a little dizzy. Oh damn, that blasted ticket! “I really am sorry about giving you that citation. You could always go to traffic school and it won’t count on your record.”

He must have sensed my sudden vertigo because his steadying hand found the small of my back. “Oh, don’t worry about that. The Sheriff already took care of it for me.”

Oh no he didn’t.

Oh yes he did.

Egan went on to say something else, but I’m afraid I missed most of it. When he gave me a funny look afterwards, I realized that he’d said something which required an answer. But before I could find my voice he’d shrugged and flitted away to chat with the other men, without so much as a look behind him.

“Ah, there you are, Samantha.” The sound of Agent Cooper’s voice was a pale replacement for the lulling baritone of Egan Walsh. “Isn’t this wonderful? A traditional Thanksgiving holiday with family and friends.”

I smiled wanly.

So help me God, one day I’m gonna give that damn Sheriff a real piece of my mind.

JEFF MITCHELL

I knew we were in trouble the moment Jessie smelled the alcohol on her mother’s breath.

It all started innocently enough. Matt and I arrived in Burlington and met Enid’s plane as planned and we innocently asked her if she’d like to stop off for a bite to eat before heading back into Stowe. She looked more than a bit tired as she slipped into the front seat and I began to worry that the airlines hadn’t fed her much besides peanuts and diet soda.  I like the old girl; she reminds me of my late grandmum with her energy and wicked sense of humor.

She gave both of us a tired smile. “Boys, what I could really use is a drink.”

At first I thought she was joking. “Is it the fashionable thing for Florida retirees to hit the ground running before two PM?”

She waved her hand at me as if swatting at a fly. “I spent the entire flight sitting next to the passenger from hell. Marilyn Stanopolous from Ft Lauderdale; widowed, seventy-three years old with sixteen grandchildren, all of whom are splendidly perfect and geniuses to boot. I saw all their pictures and even after I agreed that she was most certainly the luckiest woman in the world the old bat just wouldn’t stop talking. Oi, my head aches.”

Matt reached over and patted her shoulder. “I feel your pain. I once got stuck on a flight to Hawaii sitting next to a Southern Baptist housewife who was attending a religious retreat. She was appointed the local chair for her district and the focus of the event was on Christian Values in the Final Days Before the Apocalypse. I was ready to convert by the time we arrived.”

“But aren’t you already a Christian?”

Matt grinned. “Convert to being straight. Hell, I would have converted to Buddhism if it would have gotten her to leave me alone.”

I don’t know what came over me, but I suddenly had a wicked idea. “Hey Enid, ever hear of a place called Screaming Mimi’s?”  

She shook her head. “Can they make a decent Martini?”

I was actually thinking more along the lines of an Irish coffee to help lift her nervous edge but I guess the spirit of the holiday weekend was getting to me. “They happen to make a ripper apple Martini. Do you really think you’re up for it?”

She glanced at her watch. “We have plenty of time before the celebration begins back at the Inn. I don’t think it would hurt to have just one drink.”

Enid loved the place. Problem was, she enjoyed it so much that we ended up staying a bit longer than we should have. It’s not what you’re thinking; Enid Dalton is by no means a lush, but the old gal can sure attract an audience once she gets to talking and the bar staff instantly fell in love with her. By the time we finally pried her away and got her into the car she’d found a new hairdresser, had a date for Bingo the following weekend and passed along her recipe for chicken soup to the bartender and half of the wait staff. Did I mention that she has the stamina of a woman half her age?

By the time we reached the Inn, dinner was almost on the table and an obviously very worried Jessie came over and hugged all of us in relief.

“Where have you guys been? I’ve been calling you for hours! Don’t any of you ever answer your cell phones?”

Matt and I exchanged guilty glances but Enid would have none of it. She gave her daughter a warm hug. “We got a little sidetracked on the way over and it was all my doing, so don’t blame the boys. How’s my gorgeous daughter and beautiful grandchild-to-be?”

Jessie kissed her cheek and hugged her and I thought everything was fine until I noticed the suspicious expression on her face. “Ma, have you been drinking?”

Matt and I knew we were done for, but Enid insisted on watching out for us. “We made a stop at this little place called Screaming Mimi’s and okay, I had a couple of Martinis before we headed back. It was all in the spirit of the holidays.”

Jessie’s expression grew horrified as she absorbed what her mother was telling her. One glance at Matt and myself and we both knew we were history.

“Screaming Mimi’s? You two took my mother to a drag bar?”

I tried to reassure her. “It’s not what you think Jess, honestly.”

She didn’t seem to hear me. “You took my mother to a drag bar!”

I was afraid she was about to hyperventilate, but Enid came to the rescue. “Honey, sit down and stop shouting. Everyone’s fine and we’re all wonderful. You’re getting upset all over nothing.”

Amazingly, Jess did as her mother said, glancing up at all of us in confusion. “Wouldn’t a regular coffee shop do?”

Enid sat down next to her and patted her hand. “Honey, don’t be such a prude. It was a perfectly lovely establishment. I met some truly fascinating young men and I had a bit of fun. One of the boys, Walter, does a fabulous Carol Channing impersonation and he works as a hair stylist on the side. I have an appointment with him next week.”

“Oh ma, you’re not serious.”

We were saved by the dinner bell … well Riles shouting, “Dinner!”

“Enid! It’s about time you decided to show up. Poor Jessie’s been beside herself with worry.” Lachlan gave a hug and Enid cackled happily.

“Oh you big handsome boy, it’s so good to see you again. You been taking good care of my daughter?”

“Always and forever. You know that.” He let Enid go and looked over at Jessie. “Hey Mrs. Curry, got a pre-feast hug for your husband?”

Jess was about to say something but Lachlan took her into his arms and snogged her into silence. “I told you not to worry about your mum. Did you really think Jeff or Matt would let her come to any harm?”

I wasn’t able to hear her answer, but she was smiling dreamily at Lachlan like he’d put her in a trance. Matt came up beside me and handed over a beer. “That was a close one. I almost thought for sure that Jessie would end up going into premature labor.”

“Never underestimate the Curry charm, mate.”

Matt shook his head. “I’m more interested in the Mitchell charm. And I wanted to thank you for inviting me to spend Thanksgiving with you and your family. It really means a lot to know that you wanted me here with you.”

“It means just as much that you wanted to be here, mate.”

JOHN

Oh I was buzzing with it. Vendetta time. Last year my team lost and this year I planned to pummel my opponent. No matter that I could hardly remember who was on the other team last year, or had no clue yet who’d be on my team this year. I looked at Thanksgiving Football, Crowe style, the same way I looked at the Saturday Game. The team I’m on has just got to win.

And … I had an ace up my sleeve, a plan to raise the bar for everyone. Shane Falco, Sentinels quarterback from the movie The Replacements and at the Inn courtesy of the Portal (and with no reasoning that I cared to think about on game day) was not only a guest of our establishment … but had agreed to play with us after dinner.

Hoh yeah, I’m primed and ready. We were moving up to the big leagues now. Let’s get this turkey eating part over with. I’ve got a game to win … and a heating pad all primed and ready for me.

CORY WHITE

Apparently I’m the keeper of the family archives. Can’t really complain though. Looking at the motley crew of men out on that muddy, snow patched field, I gotta admit, I feel a lot more capable filming the game than playing in it. The prospect sure didn’t bode well for my vintage tie either. Besides, with film, not only can I record the event for future reference, but future law suits. Cool gig, huh?

The teams were split, schoolyard style. Falco and Biebe were voted team captains by the cheers of the crowd, (mostly women and kids), and a coin was tossed giving Falco the advantage of first pick.

That guy ain’t no fool, he went for Pullo immediately. His strategy became obvious by his third pick, lining all the Romans in a row at his side; Pullo, Marc Antony and Maximus, (General of the Northern Armies). He then went after the other big dudes, Ben Wade, Captain Jack Aubrey, Terry Thorne with his muscular arms and Gerry Kennedy for his shear height and bulk. Last to be chosen by Falco was Agent Cooper who claimed to be small but wiry.

Only God knew what Biebe’s strategy was as he chose a rag tag collection of Aussies including Colin, Kim, Lachlan, Jeff Mitchell, Egan and the cream of the crop, the big bad skinhead, Hando. Rounding out that team were Skinner (who hates to lose), Zack (who would gladly sacrifice another finger, I understand).

Andy’s health limited him to official scorekeeper and just as the teams huddled up, SID announced he would be the referee, or in the case … the referees … as he popped like a cartoon character into several black and white stripped officials staged at various parts of the field. For reasons of definition, let’s just refer to John’s guys as Team Old … and Falco’s crew as Team Ancient.

I aimed my camera … the women cringed with steaming mugs of hot chocolate in their mittened hands … the kiddos played in the snow … and the first quarter began. By the end of that fifteen minute fiasco, Falco’s Team Ancient led by seven points. In my opinion, they slam dunked it by brute force. Biebe was limping, Hando had a bloody nose and Kim looked like he was gonna cry. Damn, I wish my granddad was here to see this.

In the second quarter, Team Old rallied, tying the score with Biebe’s secret weapon … the fact that his men mostly understood rugby and liked to conveniently forget American football rules. SID was lenient, chuckling the whole time. We were at seven-seven.

Third quarter, both teams got nothing more than a field goal each. Maybe these old fucks were getting tired? Ya think?

To make things more interesting, I took my camera and recorder close to the huddles for a sneak peak at the upcoming plays. Biebe was shouting something about “Our Pond” and the Aussies looked like rabid dingos. I high tailed it over to the sideline just in time to see Kim getting pummeled into the mud by Gerry Kennedy. Who said that dude wasn’t a Crowe Creation, huh?

Three minutes later, Kim took another tumble as Pullo came out of nowhere and tackled him to the next county. Mud splattered everywhere and the shivering cold wives were actually cheering. Were they happy about the play? Had they spiked their hot chocolate? Or were they just glad we were down to the final two minute warning? Only they knew ‘cause I sure didn’t.

Kim struggled to his feet and grinned wide, his teeth white against his mud covered face.

Mitchell’s friend Matt stood at my side and gulped beer. “Maybe someone should save the poor bastard before somebody actually kills him.”

I laughed and snuck closer to Falco’s final huddle. The score was tied and Riley was watching the clock.

“One minute thirty seconds!” she yelled and Shane Falco looked around at his panting monsters.

“Okay, guys. This is it! Listen up!” All eyes were on him as he began what I thought as one hell of an eloquent speech, coming out of the mouth of Ted from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.  “Pain heals … chicks love scars … glory lasts forever.”

The Roman’s blinked and Maximus straightened, eying each tired man in the huddle. “Brothers, what we do in life … echoes in eternity.”

Falco shrugged and tilted his head. “Yeah, that works too. Hut ... hut … hut.”

I ran for the sideline again, but it all happened fast I almost missed it. In the blink of an eye, men were down everywhere. Lachlan was howling, holding his knee; Aubrey had slipped on the mud, just missing the toss from Falco; Pullo and Antony got into an argument about the play formation; the Aussies were in a scrum from hell and the ball was soaring through the air … right into John Biebe’s hands. Damn, that man runs like he skates! The best part of it is … although John doesn’t run all that fast, he ran straight through the confused mess of scattered men and flying flags from all the SIDs (far more referees than I think is regulation).

The only man to discover Biebe’s run was Falco. One inch closer and he’d have caught the belt of John’s sweatpants. It could have been a disaster, the ball carrier might have tripped on his own clothing, the spectators might have gotten a better look at Biebe than they had bargained for, and I would have had it all on film. As it was, Hando reached out from the bottom of a massive mess of Aussies to grip Falco’s ankle and John made the final touchdown of the game, winning the day for Team Old.

And I swear I head him cry, “Heating pad!” over the roar of the crowd.

EMILY

Adam dropped me off at my apartment a little after seven. It was a nice enough afternoon; everyone at his place had been nice and the food delicious, but I kept wondering about Kim. Did he bring a date with him to the Inn for Thanksgiving and was he at that very moment laughing and enjoying his holiday meal? It made me crazy to think about such a thing and I felt horrible for asking Adam to bring me home earlier than he’d planned, but he was accepting of it all, as usual.

“Call me if you feel like talking,” he said as I climbed out of his truck and headed upstairs. He’d wanted to walk me to my front door but I begged off with a headache. I felt guilty for being less than honest with him, but what could I do? I was trying to move on with my life but my heart was setting up road blocks at every turn.

I watched from my living room window as he drove away, wishing that I could just fall in love with Adam. He was smart and funny and had the sweetest heart of anyone I’d ever met, but the spark just wasn’t there, no matter how many chances I gave myself to keep an open mind. Could I ever feel love for a decent caring man again or was I destined to ache away for a man who broke my heart?

Without realizing what I was doing I found myself heading out to my Jeep. I was halfway up Mountain Road when I realized what it was that I had planned on doing and ignored the little voice in my head that told me I was both stupid and crazy. Did I really think that I was going to crash a family party that I wasn’t invited to? Well, maybe if I just went into the office I could make up some excuse for being there in case anyone spotted me; I needed an important file or had an insatiable craving for monkey poop coffee. I convinced myself that I could bullshit my way through just in case I was spotted but never expected to arrive and find the construction lights blazing on the field behind the Inn. At first I thought it had something to do with the pending investigation but then recognized a very pregnant woman walking back toward the Inn along with several others. Just my luck to get caught sneaking into work so I could check up on Kim only to get busted by his entire family. I started to head back to my car.

“Hey, is that Emily?”

Oh shit. Riley had spotted me. I waved, wishing that I could disappear into the ground.

“Hey, come join us for dessert. There’s plenty to go around.”

I tried to think of a quick excuse for begging off and then I caught sight of Kim.

He was filthy. Covered in mud and his hair a mess, he even had a black eye. “What happened to you?” I asked running over to him, tossing away my much-hoped-for resolve.

He seemed happy to see me. “Just a bit of football. It looks worse than it really is.”

I doubted that but as I looked around at the others there I realized that Kim had not brought a date. I felt a wave of relief even though I knew I was being hypocritical; at that moment I didn’t care.

“Hey, like Riley said, come have a bit of tucker with us. I promise to be on my best behavior.”