by Ivy Ruthven
He used his fingers to comb through his tousled blond hair. Still, he looked shabby in his old pajamas. “Don’t look like that. He’s not going to be looking at me,” said James, ambling away, leaving me to carry all the things.
In the kitchen, Ryan was already seated at the table. Ryan went to sit next to him. The table had already been set. “Do you need help, Mother?” I asked, going towards her.
“I’m almost done. Just take the bacon and sausages to the table.”
There were a variety of condiments there along with our favorite fried mushrooms and tomatoes. A bowl of baked beans and a platter of fried eggs stood at the centre. When I’d deposited the bacon and sausages, Sarah came in with a gorgeous-looking pie.
“Everything looks delicious, Mrs. Buchannan,” said Ryan, looking at the food.
“Thank you,” said Sarah, beaming. “Get started. I’ll get you kids some juice. What do you prefer, Ryan? We have apple, orange and berry smoothie.”
“Apple juice, please.”
Soon, Sarah joined us. For the next quarter of an hour, we ate. The only sounds in the kitchen were the chinks of our forks and knives hitting the china plates. With the air of festivities all around, I ended up eating more than usual. By the end, there was hardly any space in my stomach for the pie.
“There’s always room for pie,” said James, extending his plate, licked clean, towards Sarah.
“I agree,” said Ryan, putting forward his plate as well.
“Cut me a sliver, Mother,” I said.
After breakfast, the party retired to the living room. James switched on the TV and soon immersed himself in a soccer game. Sarah excused herself to go back into the kitchen.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” asked Ryan. “If I don’t do something, I won’t be able to eat dinner.”
“I know!” I said, patting my stomach. “I’ll go get my coat and tell Mother.”
In the kitchen, Sarah was basting the massive turkey. By then, it had turned a pale bronze color. A large vat of potatoes sat on the counter. Beside it, sat bowls of peeled and cut carrots, squashes, beans and a thawing packet of peas.
“Can Ryan and I go for a walk, Mother?” I asked.
“Sure, honey, but don’t stay out too long. It looks like it might rain,” she said, looking out the windows. The sky had gone darker than it was earlier that morning.
“We’ll be careful,” I said, heading upstairs to get my coat and put on boots.
Within minutes, I was ready to go out with Ryan. Thankfully, James was too engrossed in the game to pass any snide comments. Joy swelled in my heart as we stepped out the door. We were finally going to be alone and have all the time in the world to talk.
“Any direction you prefer?” asked Ryan.
“Do you want to walk in the woods behind the house? I haven’t been there since that time I first saw you.”
“I haven’t been down there since then either.”
We went around the house to reach the backyard. The leaves on the vine that hid the broken back gate had dried up, leaving behind a jumble of weedy branches. Clearing it away, we walked towards the woods. Most of the trees were bare and the cloudy sky cast a dull scenery for us. None of it mattered, however. My spirits rose from just having my arm entwined in Ryan’s.
“Can we talk about what happened the other day?” I said, unable to hold it in anymore.
He stopped walking and turned towards me. “I like you, Olivia. Now, you tell me what you want.”
I was left speechless. He’d spoken his feelings so clearly and concisely. There was no room for doubt and as I stared up at him, my tongue felt heavy as my mind whirred, trying to think of the perfect thing to say.
“Olivia?” His eyes were piercing through me, leaving me tongue tied and breathless.
“I like you too,” I said aloud. “But, there’s so much I don’t know about you.”
“It’s the same for me. I don’t know where your family came from and why you decided to settle here in Knightswood.”
“That’s easy. My grandparents used to live here.”
“But why did you have to come here after all this time? What happened to make you move to this quaint American town?”
Faltering, I looked up at him. Hesitation and doubt flooded my chest as I reasoned internally whether to tell him the truth about my past. Ryan’s arms came around my shoulders, pulling me his chest.
“We both have things in our past that we want to hide,” he whispered into my ear. My body tensed in his embrace. His hand gently caressed my hair while I stood with my head buried in his chest. “It’s okay, Olivia. Perhaps, we just need time to open up to each other.”
I stepped away to look up at him. He was staring down at me with the gentlest expression on his face. “You’ve always been running from people. It’s like you’re too afraid to get close to anyone. They all want to be your friend at school, but your aloofness keeps them at bay. Only Stacie is brave enough to keep up with that exterior.”
It felt like he was describing himself, not me. Suddenly, something clicked in place. “Is that why you’ve been attracted to me? You thought I was just like you?”
“Yes.”
In the gathering darkness, his eyes shone a radiant blue, reminding of the summer skies over Loch Lomond. My heart wanted to trust him. A part of me wanted to remain in his embrace and cry over every unfair thing that had happened to me. If anyone could comfort me and make me feel safe again, it would be him. And yet, my mind refused to give in so soon.
“So, we give each other time?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes. Only that can break the barriers we’ve built around ourselves. You are scared to let down your guard. So am I. All I can say is that we’ve been betrayed by people we’ve loved very much and now we’re afraid to trust anyone again.”
Tears pricked at my eyes. He was speaking every unspoken thought in my heart. I’d never really acknowledged them, but now they were being laid bare.
“Do we give each other a chance?” he asked.
“Yes.” My voice was firm and clear.
A smile lit up his face. He leaned in towards me. Standing on tip toes, I pressed my lips to his. A strong wind blew around us as we kissed. As we parted, small flurries of snow began floating down towards us. Chuckling, I looked up at the clouds. Snow was beginning to drift down on us at a faster pace now.
“We should get back to the house,” said Ryan.
“Yeah,” I said, blowing on my frozen fingers.
Taking my hand in his, he pulled me forward. Soon we broke into a run as snow began to fall thickly. We were laughing as we ran through the woods. All of a sudden, I felt lighter.
I can eat a proper slice of pie right now, I thought happily, stumbling on the uneven ground.
Chapter 4
We were breathless by the time we returned home. Shutting the door behind us, we got out of our coats and scarves. Pulling me closer, Ryan lightly brushed away snow from my hair. A loud noise of someone clearing his throat, made me jump away. Turning around, I saw James standing at the end of the hall.
“Get inside and warm yourselves,” he said, his green eyes travelling between me and Ryan.
“We will,” I said, glaring at him and wishing he’d stop staring at us. He lingered for a minute before turning away.
In the living room, the TV still played the soccer game. Leaving Ryan there, I went to check on Sarah. She was staring out of the window with a pensive expression on her face.
“Mother,” I called in a soft voice.
“I’m glad you both hurried home,” she said, still looking outside.
I went to go stand beside her. “It looks beautiful, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. It rarely snowed as much in Edinburgh.”
“Yeah. How’s everything coming along?”
Turning to face me, she smiled. “Everything’s going according to plan. I actually feel quite proud of myself. Wish your grandparents could have seen this day.”
> “I’m sorry, Mother, but we’re proud of you. Thank you for giving us such a beautiful Thanksgiving,” I said, going closer to hug her.
“Do you want some lunch, honey?” she asked.
“Nope!” My answer was immediate. I’d rather let my stomach make space for dinner.”
“I’ll go ask the boys if they want something.”
While she was gone, I munched on a ginger cookie. It was impossible to be in the kitchen that day and not pick something to eat!
“The boys and I want to play some board games until it’s time to eat dinner,” said Sarah, walking in after a while.
“That’s a long time to be playing games,” I said, checking the clock on the wall.
“We’re eating dinner early today. Say, sometime between four and five.”
We whiled away the few hours of the afternoon playing with an old scrabble board. According to Sarah, it had belonged to my grandparents. Ryan looked happier and more cheerful than I’d ever seen him before. As I watched him arguing with James, it felt like he’d dropped a heavy burden from him shoulders. His hair was still windblown from our walk and his eyes twinkled with delight as he stayed in the silly game. I didn’t even care as watching him seemed more interesting.
Jonathan Brown, Sarah’s old family friend and our Math teacher came to the house at quarter to four. He arrived with a large bouquet and a wine bottle along with a store-bought pie. His face turned into a genuine look of surprise when he spotted Ryan sitting on the floor with me and James.
“Ryan Hargrove,” said Mr. Brown, like he didn’t really believe his eyes.
“Hello,” said Ryan in a bored voice as he looked up. His gaze turned to me.
“He’s my mother’s friend,” I whispered. He didn’t ask me anything but I could feel the questions rising in his mind.
Sarah poured herself and him a glass of wine. They sat on the sofa near us and chatted while the three of us tried not to listen to Mr. Brown talk about school and the principal.
“How about we go out and see how thick the snow is?” asked James after a while. “It’s weird watching him go red on booze.”
“It’s dark outside,” I whispered.
“Anything’s better than sitting here,” said Ryan.
“Fine,” I muttered. Raising my voice, I looked over at Sarah and Jonathan. “Mother, we’re going outside to stretch our legs a bit. Call us when you’re ready to serve dinner.”
She nodded, too engrossed in her conversation to actually pay us much attention.
Ryan and I waited for James to get dressed properly before going out. The swaying tree branches outside the windows were proof it would be windy.
James hopped down the stairs, tucking a t-shirt in his jeans. We collected our coats from the pegs in the hallway and stepped outside. It was definitely chilly.
Through the windows of the other houses, we saw families getting together. Most of the living rooms were crowded as people gathered together to celebrate Thanksgiving. The snow on the road was badly marred by deep imprints from car tires and boots.
“Let’s go to the back,” said James.
Ryan and I followed him. The snow in our backyard was untouched and glittered like small mounds of cotton against the inky sky. James stepped ahead and began doodling in the ice with the tips of his shoes.
Ryan’s hands found mine. I leaned into him, watching James make shapes in the snow. Far away sounds of cheering floated towards us. People were celebrating all around us.
“Wish we could eat too,” grumbled James. “I am starving now. Should’ve had lunch.”
“I’m hungry too,” I said, looking back at the house. “Let’s us just go inside and tell Mother to get started. Even setting the table will take time.”
We traipsed back inside the house. Sarah and Jonathan were still on the couch, talking.
“I’m hungry, Mother,” said James loudly.
Sarah glanced at us.
“I skipped lunch for this today,” said Jonathan, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.
“All right,” said Sarah, standing up. “Everything’s ready. Ryan, take a seat. You two,” she said, looking at me and James. “Come with me.”
We followed our mother into the kitchen. She made James scrub the table top clean while she brought out the special tablecloth. I helped her spread it. It looked beautiful and strange at the same time. However, with James grumbling in our ears, there was hardly any time to admire Sarah’s craftsmanship.
Soon, the designs were hidden under the large platters and dishes. The turkey looked a gorgeous bronze and took up the centre space. When the rest of the side dishes were placed around, Sarah had a sudden look of dismay.
“What’s wrong, Mother?” I asked.
“I completely forgot about carving the turkey,” she said, staring at the huge roast. “I don’t even have carving knives.”
“I can do it,” said James, stepping up. “I’ve done this before.”
“When?” I asked. We always spent Christmas together and I’d never watched him cut up any roasts before.
“Just a few days ago at a friend’s house. They had an early celebration. Do we have a bread knife? We can use that.”
Sarah was about to pick the turkey platter from the table when I stopped her. “We need a picture of this set-up first!” I said, taking my phone. For the next couple of minutes, the Buchannnans posed around the table of food.
“Hurry up, Oli,” grumbled James. “I am hungry!”
We placed the turkey on the counter top and surrendered it to James. To our surprise, he turned out to be good at carving. He cut nice slices from the breast area and used brute force to pull apart the legs. We didn’t mind as they came out clean and looked like someone had actually cut through the right joints. Before long, we had a mountain of meat on the platter.
After a little cleanup, we were ready to eat. Ryan and Mr. Brown looked impressed with the spread as they stepped into the dining area near the kitchen.
“This looks grand,” said Mr. Brown, taking a seat.
“I agree,” said Ryan, sitting beside him.
Sarah took her place at the head of the table while James sat next to me. After saying a prayer, we were ready to eat.
With our stomach raging with hunger, we broke upon the food. The turkey was cooked perfectly with the meat being soft and tender, and the skin golden and crisp. The gravy and cranberry sauce accompanying it were just as delicious. We ate our way through all the courses, taking our sweet time to choose from all the dishes that Sarah had prepared.
It was a while before we talked. I suppose it was mostly to make space for the gorgeous pies that waited on the counter tops.
“I’m stuffed,” said James, patting his stomach.
“Me too,” said Mr. Brown, leaning back in his chair.
“I can’t have pie right away, Mother,” I said.
“How about we rest and watch something until we’re all lighter?” suggested Sarah.
“It’ll take weeks to get lighter after this,” said Mr. Brown. “I can’t believe you made this mammoth meal all by yourself, Sarah.”
Sarah glowed from the praise. “The kids helped and my mother’s recipe book was a big help.”
“Do we have any old movies in the house?” I asked.
“Old movies?” asked Ryan with a confused look.
I nodded. “We always watched an old movie after Christmas dinner. It’s something of a tradition with us.”
“I’m not even sure the old VCR works,” said Sarah.
“What’s a VCR?” asked James.
Mr. Brown chuckled. “It’s what we watched movies on a long time ago.” He turned to Sarah. “If it’s nearby, I can give it a try.”
“It’s stored in one of the drawers under the TV table,” said Sarah.
“All right! Let’s go take a look,” said Mr. Brown, standing up. “You kids choose something by then.”
“I’ll clean up a bit in here,” said Sarah.
&nb
sp; “I will help you with that if you don’t mind,” said Ryan. Both James and I stared at him.
“That’d be nice, Ryan,” said my mother with a smile. “You two,” she said, turning to me and James. “Go help, Jonathan and pick a movie. They are in a box under that space by the window.
We showed Mr. Brown where the VCR was kept. It was a dark, dusty box with tiny lights and knobs. While he got to work immediately, my brother and I rummaged through the old tapes stashed in big plastic containers.
“Imagine all this in a tiny little stick,” said James, holding a tape and examining it closely. “Technology has saved us so much space.”
“I know,” I said. “You don’t even need a stick. We can just stream stuff online these days.”
We found plenty of movies in the boxes and they were all old. However, we finally chose to watch “The Sound of Music”. It was by far our favorite movie since we were little.
The TV screen had gone blank while Mr. Brown fiddled with the knobs on the VCR. “Have you chosen a movie?”
“Yes,” I said, giving him the tape.
A sound of approval escaped him as he tossed the tape into the VCR. We cheered loudly as the first notes of the song from the movie began playing.
“I can’t believe you made it work, Mr. Brown!” I gushed as the movie played.
“I am used to them. I loved watching movies growing up.” He moved forward and paused the movie. “We should wait until your mother and Ryan come.” He hesitated. “How did you get close to Mr. Hargrove?”
“We’re in the same classes,” I said. There were more reasons but he didn’t need to know those. “Why do you ask?”
“He’s always been a distant kid. Don’t get me wrong. He’s not a bad kid…just awfully quiet.”
I nodded. “He is.”
He opened his mouth, and then thinking better of it, closed it again. “Maybe you should let your mother know we’re ready here.”
Glad to get out of the awkward conversation, I went into the kitchen. Ryan was wearing big yellow gloves and washing the dishes. He handed each of them to Sarah who wiped it with a cloth and stacked it on the counter top.
