by Pardo, Jody
“Well, Tonya and Russ are coming here so unless you are babysitting their dust bunnies, pack your toothbrush and your crock because Thanksgiving is in Maine this year.” That seemed to perk her out of her sleepy stupor.
“What am I cooking? Did you see the hot purple Crock I got? Oh Lyds, it’s a beautiful sight to behold.”
“You bought a purple one? Ooh, I can’t wait to see it. Tonya is going to make fudge, so how about some hot artichoke dip? We can add some lobster to it.” I egged her on.
“Oh my God, now I am hungry. You are not right, Lydia; now I want fucking dip. Hello holiday pounds. Okay, I gotta go raid the pantry now, bitch. I love you, woman. See you in a few.” I heard her mumble curse words as she undoubtedly wrestled the blankets to get out of bed in search of a late night snack.
As I worked my way down the rest of my list including Sam, Pedro, and George, the excitement built within me. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to keep the secret and had a lot of work to do. I wanted everything to be fabulous.
Ryan
Lydia had been cooking all week. Hell, she had been cooking all month and now it was Thanksgiving. I was not sure how we were going to eat all this food, and I saw many workout sessions in my future. The recipe testing has continued day after day, and today I am ready to have it all.
If only I could have Lydia for dessert, my Thanksgiving would be perfect.
I actually had the back deck sliding doors open for air since the oven and stove had been going all day. The smell of awesome food was so overpowering, I needed a breeze so I wouldn’t chew off my arm while I waited.
“Is dinner ready yet?” I yelled toward the kitchen.
“Not yet, Ryan. Be patient.” Lydia called back.
“Can I have a snack?” I complained.
“You will ruin your dinner,” she bellowed.
“Please? By the time dinner is ready, trust me, I will be hungry again!” With that, she poked her head around the doorway and narrowed her eyes at me.
“Seriously? Fine, I will make you a snack, but I don’t know how you expect to eat when the table isn’t even set.” She ducked back into the kitchen and I looked at the dining room table.
I didn’t know what the big deal was. It was just another day and only the two of us. Throw a little bit of everything on a paper plate and it would be fine. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about dishes and we could snuggle and watch a movie. I went over to the sideboard and dug past Lydia’s nursing supplies that had been stowed away and dug around to find a tablecloth.
Damn 6:00 rule. Lydia had stuck to her “after hours” protocol for nearly a month now. It was killing me and it was hard to control myself all day long without touching her. I tried to be as helpful as possible, just to be close to her. I thought I should catch a break; after all, it was a holiday. It was a Thursday, so it was officially a “work day,” but it sure as hell didn’t feel like one.
Lydia wasn’t even wearing scrubs today. She wore cute torn up jeans and a pink tank top as she cooked in the hot kitchen. All the holes and shreds were just begging to be tugged and the skin touched through the small avenues of access. Focus Ryan, set the table so she will have mercy, and feed me.
After spreading the tablecloth, I brought out the good dishes my mom gave me after my grandma died. It was my housewarming gift when I bought this place a few years ago. I think I have only ever used these dishes once before, the one and only time my parents came to dinner. I set two places and rolled over to the kitchen doorway. As I poked my head around the wall, Lydia had the countertop lined with Crock-pots. Six of them!
“Lydia, I see an awful lot of cooking and not a lot of eating. The table is set. Can I please have some of whatever is in any of those trays, Crocks, pans or pots? Seriously woman, we are going to be eating this until Christmas.”
“Hang on, killer. I am making you a plate now.” She pulled out a paper plate and proceeded to dish up morsels from each dish. I was about to complain about the tiny spoons worth of food when she kept dishing up now from the pots on the stove.
My mouth watered as the sweet smell of yams with brown sugar, cinnamon laced apple pies baking, buttery mashed potatoes and garlicky greens wafted my way as she lifted each lid.
“Here you go, sorry no turkey or ham yet, but this should tide you over until dinner.”
She offered me the plate of Thanksgiving tapas and I whined. “Exactly when is that going to be?”
“6:00,” she replied flatly. I was beginning to hate 6:00. Instead of taking the plate, I hugged her leg and pulled her to me. I slowly guided her closer until she was in between my legs. She groaned as my hand drifted from the back of her knee closer to her core.
“Ryan…” I could listen to her say my name all day. I wanted to make her scream it, soon.
“Yes, talk to me sweets.” She let out a breathless sigh as I nestled my nose into her hip. I wanted to inhale and devour her; I was a starving man.
“I’m going to drop this plate on your head if you keep that up. 6:00,” she insisted as she gently pulled away. She placed my plate on my lap, but not before planting a chaste kiss on my forehead.
She is going to be the death of me.
I rolled over to the sliding doors, enjoying the brisk breeze that blew through the open doorway. Winter was coming hard and fast. We’d already had a few snowfalls and it wouldn’t surprise me if we had a few inches before the weekend was over. The air was dry and cold, a perfect recipe for snow with the wind carrying the moisture off the ocean.
I sat by the deck and ate my plate of delicious morsels. It was such a fucking tease, but it would keep my stomach from growling. I still didn’t know what was the big deal was, but if it made my girl happy, so be it.
My girl. Was she really my girl? She was still hung up on the whole 8:00-6:00 thing and I didn’t know how to overcome that without losing her for those ten hours. I wanted her all the time; I didn’t want to share.
At 5:55pm, my alarm went off on my phone. I started setting it so I knew when all bets were off. As I swiped my phone to silence the alarm, I heard the gravel crunch in the driveway as a vehicle pulled up the house.
“Lyds, we have company.” I yelled into the kitchen as I rolled to the answer the door.
“My hands are dirty. Can you get it?” she hollered back.
The doorbell rang just as I opened the front door. There was Al holding two cases of Blue Moon and two women I didn’t recognize. The short blonde was holding a camouflaged Crock Pot and the tall long-haired brunette cradled a purple Crock-Pot in her arms.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Ryan. Thought you could use some beer to go with dinner,” Al said as he entered.
I sat there dumbfounded as I tried to figure out who these women were and what they were doing on my porch.
Lydia came up behind me and yanked my chair back into the house. “Ryan, move! He has two cases in his arms!”
“Oh, yeah sorry man; let me grab one of those from you.” He leaned over so I could grab the top case and I placed it in my lap as I rolled into the dining room.
“Tonya, Jill, you made it! Where’s Russ?” Her Crock Pot girls, of course!
“Russ couldn’t make it. He is on-call for work this weekend, so he couldn’t leave town. Apparently, the Rose Garden is a really good landmark though. Seriously, it’s like the Empire State Building of Maine. One guy literally recited the menu, and we were still like an hour away and grabbed gas. Where do you want these, Lyds?” Tonya asked.
“Oh let’s take those in the kitchen and I will introduce you.” Lydia ushered the girls into the kitchen and re-appeared with them a minute later with one on each arm.
“Ryan, I want to introduce you to my best friends in the whole wide world, Tonya and Jill.”
“Nice to meet you, Crock-Pot girls.” Jill blushed and Tonya dug one hand into her hip.
“Crock-Pot girls? Listen, we drove six and a half hours here with fudge, dip, chips, and other goodies. If you aren’t interest
ed, we can just wait for Lydia at her place. Isn’t it 6:00 Lyds, aren’t you off duty?”
Fuck, she was leaving?
“No, no, no, make yourself home. I would love to try some of your fudge. Please have a seat, or stand since you are probably tired of sitting.” I knew I was babbling but if her friends were in town, she was probably going to duck out of here soon.
Tonya was still glaring at me and the air was thick with tension as I waited for her to sit or stand there or say something. Like a light switch, her face went from annoyed to a broad smile and she let out a full-bellied laugh, and then ribbed Lydia in the side. “Wow, he is wound tight, Lydia! Will you give him some before he has an aneurysm?”
My mouth fell open in disbelief at her words. I was stunned. Al looked like a Cheshire cat smiling at my embarrassment.
“He can wait until later.” Lydia chimed in, giggling. I glanced between Tonya and Lydia as they grinned at each other.
I looked to Jill for help and she simply added, “Whatever she says goes or it’s the Greyhound home for me.”
Tonya disappeared into the kitchen and re-emerged holding a light and dark brown swirled cube on a napkin. “I know she is a big meanie. Here you go, Ryan. All the way from Pennsylvania.” She handed me the small cube nestled in the napkin.
“What is it?” I asked as I smelled it.
“It’s fudge. Just try it.” I took another whiff, and it didn’t smell like chocolate. I popped it in my mouth and slowly let the cube melt in my mouth.
“Oh my God, it’s peanut butter.” I mumbled with a mouthful of Tonya’s fudge. “She can stay.”
Tonya let out another laugh. “I heard you liked peanut butter. I guess it was a good choice then?”
I managed to grumble out an ‘uh-huh’ as I relished in the fudge she made. “Does this mean we can eat now?” I said as I swallowed the last remnants of peanut butter.
“Girls, you wanna help me carry the stuff out to the sideboard? Ryan, looks like you are going to have to set a few more places at the table, hun,” She winked and disappeared in the kitchen leaving Al and me in the dining room.
“You knew about this?” I shot a glare at Al as he cracked open a bottle of Blue Moon and handed me the cold brew.
“Yeah, why you mad?”
“Nah, I can’t get mad at Lydia. Surprised, yes. Mad, no. Thanks man for helping out.”
“She’s a good girl, Ryan. Take care of her.”
“I plan on it.” We clinked the necks of our bottles, each took a swig, and the doorbell rang again.
“More people?” I asked Al. He just shrugged and smirked.
When I opened the door, there stood Sam and Ethel with Dougie pulling into the drive right behind them. Sam had an armful of molded Tupperware trays.
Ethel leaned down and grabbed my cheeks. “It’s so good to see you again, Ryan. You’re all grown up.”
“I don’t know about grown up. I seem to have shrunk, but you look lovely ma’am.”
“You see, Sam, Ryan hasn’t forgotten his manners, but apparently you have. Come on boy, we are late with the appetizers. Let’s go; everyone is probably starving.”
Ethel dragged him beyond me with his armfuls of Tupperware and Dougie strolled up the ramp.
“Hey Ryan, did I miss the party?”
“Am I the only one who didn’t know there was a party at my house today?” I said as I crossed my arms at Dougie. He raised his hands in surrender.
“Hey man, I warned her you didn’t like surprises, but it was this or my in-laws. I would rather hang with you, if you know what I mean.” He re-arranged his ball cap and rubbed his head.
“Come on in, man. There's enough food here for half of Eastport. Wait, how many people exactly did she invite?” I asked. Dougie just shrugged and went straight for the sideboard where the girls had laid now eight Crock-pots, and endless food-filled aluminum trays. Ethel uncovered her four Tupperware platters filled with yummy appetizers, including stuffed mushrooms, cut vegetables and dip, various cold meats, and lobster slaw sliders.
People continued to funnel in and out of the house for the next couple of hours. Al left early, but his wife and some of the staff came later on as things slowed down. Even after the countless visitors, we still had enough leftovers to feed a Superbowl party, but I wasn’t complaining. My belly was full, and I was a happy man.
Lydia and the girls cleaned up, and we made a cleaning train for the dishes. I eventually returned all the dishes back to their resting place.
The girls left just before midnight, and Lydia promised she would be back in the morning. Her friends were going to do some Black Friday shopping in Lubec before driving home to Pennsylvania.
As I dragged my body across the bars, into my bedroom chair, and landing in my bed, Lydia’s smiling face filled my mind. I had everyone I cared about in my house tonight. I thought about ringing my parents. I wondered what they were doing and if they were well. I hadn’t heard from them since I’d left for rehab over a year ago.
I rolled over and something poked me in the rib. I reached down to find the object of my discomfort and pulled out a small claw hair clip.
Lydia. I laughed as I pressed the claws opened and closed and her laughter rang in my ears along with me. I clamped the jaws of the clip to the bar over my bed and closed my eyes, where I could always see her, and drifted off to sleep.
Lydia
We went back to my place, and it was well after midnight. I felt tired but happy, and I had my girls with me. I knew sleep wasn’t happening; these girls would probably stay up all night and then just pick up and go to Lubec before dawn. They hoped to grab some awesome sales and take advantage of the current good exchange rate on the Canadian dollar.
We all snuggled in my king size bed. Jill sat against the headboard, Tonya cradled against her, and I lay across Tonya’s lap as she played with my hair.
“Now that we are all here alone, how are you, really?” Tonya stared down at me as she gave my hair a gentle tug.
“I’m good. See? I’m smiling.”
“I know and that’s a good thing. So where was your smile hiding?” Tonya prodded.
“I think I know where she found it,” Jill snickered.
“Yeah, what is the deal with Ryan? Spill, lady.”
Crap, here we go. “He is my client.”
“I call bullshit!” Jill yelled from behind Tonya.
“I second that bullshit.” Tonya chimed in.
“What? Well, he is.”
Tonya yanked my head back and glared down at me. “You know exactly what I am talking about, Lydia. Don’t play stupid. I have known you since kindergarten. There is no dirty deed or secret you can keep from me.”
“There haven’t been any dirty deeds,” I said meekly.
“Yet!” Jill piped up again.
Traitor. She knew exactly how to egg Tonya on.
“We just kiss, that’s all. I am his nurse. I can’t let it progress.”
“Lydia, there is nothing but love and lust in that man’s eyes. He looks at you like a lion looks at a zebra.”
“He is going to eat you up, girl.” Jill cooed behind Tonya.
“I don’t even know how that would work.”
“Well, Ms. Nurse, does ‘it’ work?” I guess my facial expression said it all as my two friends cackled like hyenas, shaking the bed.
“Holy shit, it does work! Did you touch it? Do you give him a shower? Do you wash it twice: once for clean and twice for pleasure?”
My fucking friends were dirty birds and I couldn’t believe the direction this conversation had taken.
“NO! I don’t wash it! He showers himself.” I shouted at them quieting their cackles as they eagerly waited for details. “But I felt it.” I covered my face in embarrassment as my hyena girls laughed it up once more.
“So how was it? Is he big?” Tonya asked excitedly.
“From what’s been pressing against my ass, yeah he is big enough to get the job done well for sure.”
“So when are you going to give it up? Sweep out the cobwebs and lay down some pipe.” Tonya chided as she wiggled her eyebrows at me.
“You don’t think it’s cheating on Mason?” The room fell quiet at the mention of my husband’s name. Way to be a buzzkill, Lyds.
Tonya began stroking my hair again and let out a long breath. “Lydia, Mason isn’t coming back. It is not cheating, sweetie. You didn’t make that choice. There is no divorce in death. It’s just done. There are no bad guys or bad wives, just good memories.
"Ryan wants you, I see it in his eyes. In the way he looks at you…no, the way he stares at you, his eyes are only for you,” Tonya continued. “He actually missed his mouth a few times at dinner. At first, I thought it was part of his handicap and maybe he had some bad coordination or something, but that wasn’t it at all. He was just too busy staring at you to be bothered with reaching his mouth properly.”
“Didn’t you see the strawberry pie all down his shirt? You licked the whipped cream off the back of your spoon and ploop he got a chest full of strawberry filling.” Jill laughed as she recalled the scenario.
“He has made it very clear he is attracted to me, trust me, but what do I do about work?” I pleaded.
“What about work? Who is going to tell? Let me ask you this, would you have cooked Thanksgiving dinner if it was on a Saturday or because you were getting paid to do it?”
Without hesitation, I answered, “I would have done it anyway. I didn’t want him to be alone.”
“And when was your shift over today?” Jill asked.
“6:00.” I replied.
“So basically, the minute we walked in the door, you were off the clock and it was game on. You were there because you wanted to be. The question is do you want to be there with him?”
“Why else would I be there?”
“Exactly!” they said in unison.
“I understand the taking it slow part Lydia, but make no mistake, Ryan wants you,” Tonya said in no uncertain terms.
I laid in Tonya’s lap and thought about what they said as she continued to play with my hair before Jill broke the quiet.
