know, since I can’t be with them I want to at least have something that reminds me of them.” I snag the can from his hand.
“Ok, so what are you making?”
“Just a green bean casserole. I know, we bought another veggie, but my sister and I always made this together since it was easy enough for us to do when we were younger. It just became a tradition.”
“Sounds good.” He glances at all the food scattered on the counters. “I think we may have gone a little overboard. We have enough food here to feed a small army.” He laughs.
“Well, then we’ve got lunch for the rest of the week.” The dread creeps in a little, not knowing how long he is actually going to be around.
I refuse to bring it up since I don’t want to hear an answer I’m not ready to hear. I don’t want to be counting down the days waiting for him to leave, till I’m alone again. This thing between us has taken over my life like a tornado, causing a beautiful chaos around me, and I’m just not sure I’m ready to see what is left when the storm settles.
“Hey, you there?” he says, pulling me out of my own thoughts.
“Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about stuff. So where should we start?” I immediately change the subject.
“I’m going to get the turkey ready so we can just throw it in the oven tomorrow. It’s not that big, so it won’t take long to cook. I guess we can just start getting everything ready in the foil tins to cook.”
“Sounds like a plan. So, do you have anything that sticks out in your head about Thanksgiving, like things you and your family used to do?” I ask, trying to learn more about him, something he doesn’t seem to ever talk about.
“Pretty much the basic stuff. Family over, the girls in the kitchen cooking, while the guys watched football. It’s funny how the cooking took two days, but once the food was ready, it was demolished in about ten minutes.” He chuckles.
“Sounds like a fun memory.”
“It is, it was. After my sister, things never went completely back to normal. It took a little while for my family to accept it, and realize that they still had a young son who still needed those kinds of memories. By the time they started to come around, we were already bringing other families into the house, and I had to share all those family things with strangers. I’m not complaining: these people needed the help, and their kids needed to still try and be normal kids. I just got lost in that shuffle,” he says with a hint of sadness in his voice.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
“Say nothing, because that was a long time ago, and it doesn’t really matter. Let’s finish up so we can rest and not be dragging tomorrow.” He quickly recluses back into the unknown Rig, who doesn’t want anybody to know that things affect him.
I’m just trying to figure out how to explain to him that he is human. He’s allowed to be open, and not look like he isn’t as tough as he is on the outside.
“It’s ok to have these feelings. It doesn’t make you any less than you are. It makes you who you are. Maybe if this didn’t happen, you wouldn’t be helping out so many people that need you.”
“Like I said, it was a long time ago, and it really doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve dealt with a lot more than just the death of my sister. It only makes what I do more important. How about we just stop talk about this right now? It’s Thanksgiving, and this whole talk about my past sure knows how to kill the festive mood. Let’s just get this stuff done, and get ready for tomorrow.” He shuts down the talk for the night.
I guess this is a good lesson on when to push or not, so I let it go, not wanting to make him angry or ruin my first holiday free.
We finish up around 8:00pm. The warmth from the oven helps to heat this old house. It’s cold, and it’s a damn miracle it hasn’t started snowing yet. I’ll need to get clothes more apt to handle these arctic Montana winters.
Rig lies on the floor in front of the fireplace, fiddling with the flue.
“Do you need some help?” I giggle.
“No, I almost got it. I