Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1) (35 page)

I was happy to help his mom and grandma any way I could. I didn’t do anything fancy. I helped peel the apples and potatoes, chopped vegetables – being really careful not to cut myself, mixed and stirred what they wanted me to. Lindsey was there too, helping and making those really good cookies from last week. Even though I just ate an hour ago, I was getting hungry again because everything was starting to smell so good.

There was such a feeling of family and love that radiated out of the kitchen. They each shared stories and their lives with each other. Lindsey caught them up with her life and school. Grandma shared her memories of growing up and cooking with her mom and her daughter, Patrick’s mom. Mrs. Connor shared her favorite times and what it was like when Lindsey was first able to help out in the kitchen.

I helped make the corn dish and apple pie. I followed the instructions she gave me. Patrick came in at one point to check on me. I was having a great time spending time with them. I learned a lot, including Patrick’s traditional contribution to the Thanksgiving feast is mashed potatoes. I guess he wasn’t just coming in to check on me, but to start his potatoes.

I handed him the bowl of potatoes that I had peeled earlier. Apparently, he had his own special recipe for mashed potatoes. He seasoned the water that he boiled the potatoes in. Patrick stayed in the kitchen and hung out while he waited for his potatoes to soften. His mom and grandma took the opportunity of Patrick being in the kitchen to share funny and sweet stories about him growing up. I had to hand it to him, he took it all in stride. He was embarrassed at moments, he turned a shade of red and laughed nervously. But he never asked them to stop, I think he was enjoying it as much as they were.

Once everything was prepped and ready to go into the oven, Patrick, Lindsey and I cleaned up the kitchen then went to hang out in the family room. There was still a few more hours before dinner would be served. Andy came in and brought in some board games to play.

We played some games, watched movies, and talked as we waited for the turkey to finish cooking. I never had so much fun hanging out with family before. Okay, they weren’t my family, so that had a lot to do with it. If my family was anything like Patrick’s, I wouldn’t mind going to family events. I felt more like a part of the Connor family than my own.

Slowly, more family started to arrive. I got to meet his aunts, uncles and first and second cousins. There had to be almost twenty people there for Thanksgiving dinner. The dinner tables were set up outside on their backyard patio. It was like a formal picnic setup with fine linens, china and silverware. Mr. Connor and Patrick had strung white Christmas lights along the patio overhangs.

I helped Patrick and Lindsey bring all the food to the tables. There was so much food! I completely understood why they had their Leftover Party the next day, because despite the number of people there for dinner, there definitely would be tons of leftovers. But there was nothing that I would choose to pick to omit. I wanted to try it all.

The food tasted even better than it looked and smelled. I ate so much and wished I had room for more. I’ll just have to settle on waiting for tomorrow’s party. Good food, conversation and, most importantly, great company. No one left immediately after dinner. Everyone stuck around to chat some more. They talked about current events, movies, television and politics. Some of the conversations I couldn’t follow. I didn’t know anything about the topic. It was clear that they didn’t always agree on things, but they were able to debate about it rather than fight. That was not something my family could do. I think that was the reason why the conversations always seemed so superficial.

I remember once there was a controversial topic that came up. Well, controversial for everyone in
America
, but controversy wasn’t allowed in my family. I couldn’t believe what my aunt was saying, I found it offensive. I was willing to debate it, I wanted to. But, my mom stopped me. It would be disrespectful to argue or disagree with your elders. So, I had to shut my mouth. Now that I think about it, that was probably when I really started to lose respect for some people in my family. I’m sure that’s when I really started hating going to family gatherings. I couldn’t talk to them. I didn’t want to.

It had been a big day and Andy was exhausted. I didn’t blame him. I was getting tired too, but I didn’t want the night to end. Andy wanted Lindsey and I to tuck him into bed. I was happy to oblige. It was very sweet of him to ask.

Afterwards, Lindsey and I returned to the family room. Everyone was watching a movie and in a food coma. Patrick sat down on the couch next to me. “You have fun today?”

I think he knew the answer to that one, but I was glad to confirm. “Yeah, lots.”

“Just let me know when you want me to take you home.”

“Can’t your parents just adopt me?” I half-joked. It would be so great to be a part of his family. Heck, I fit in better with his than with mine.

It wasn’t until after the movie finished that I realized it was getting late. Some of his family was still there, talking over coffee.

“I need to thank your parents before I go.” I told Patrick.

He nodded. “I think they’re outside.”

I went to the backyard and found them sitting on the patio swing talking with Patrick’s aunt and uncle. They all greeted me as I approached.

“I’m going to get going now. Thank you
so
much for including me in your family Thanksgiving. I had the best time.”

His dad smiled. “No need to thank us. We’re all happy you came.”

His mom agreed and hugged me tightly. Let the hug ritual begin. “Yes, you are
always
welcome here. Thanks for all your help in the kitchen. Now, you have to promise me something.”

I was anxious to please her. “Anything.”

“You have to promise not to divulge any family secret recipes.” She grinned. “Some of them have been passed down from generation to generation.”

Wow. I had no idea. I shook my head. “Of course.”

I was honored. The more I thought about it, maybe I did something wrong.

“I didn’t mean to force myself into your kitchen. I didn’t realize I was intruding on your family traditions. I’m sorry.” I was contrite. I felt horrible for pushing myself on them on such a personal tradition.

Mrs. Connor shook her head, stood up and put her arm behind my back. “Come with me.”

Oops. I guess I shouldn’t have said that in front of his aunt and uncle. I probably embarrassed them.

We got to the kitchen and sat down at the table. I could tell she wanted to talk to me. The odd part was that I didn’t get that sick to the stomach feeling like I did when my mom sat me down for a talk. I was just nervous.

“Liz, you have nothing to be sorry about. Yes, this is a family event for us. But everyone here, thinks of you as family, even those that just met you. If I wasn’t fond of you, I wouldn’t have invited you.” She smiled and patted my hands. “I wasn’t trying to kick you out of the kitchen so you wouldn’t know the recipes or to exclude you. I just didn’t want you to worry about it. I wanted you to have fun.”

“I did have fun. I loved spending time with you and Lindsey and grandma.” I was filled with gratitude.

“We did, too. I’m really glad you helped. You need to trust yourself more. You weren’t wrong to want to stay and help. I’m really glad Patrick has you as a friend. Don’t get me wrong. I love his entire crew, they’re good kids. But you’re different.” Her eyes squinted at me and the corner of her mouth turned into a smile.

She had no idea that I wasn’t your typical teenager.

“Trust your instincts. Listen to yourself. If you do, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. Least of all to me. Okay?” She spoke in a comforting maternal voice that I longed for, especially after my attack.

My eyes welled up. All I could manage was a nod.

“I know, dear, that you’ve been through a lot. Too much for anyone, let alone someone at your young age.”

Okay. Maybe she had some idea that I wasn’t your typical teenager. How much did Patrick tell her? I know I said he could, but I never asked if or how much he did. I chewed the inside of my cheek and got very tense. I looked down at the table.

“Don’t worry. He didn’t betray any confidences. I would never ask him to. Patrick didn’t give any details.” She whispered.

“I know. I trust him.” I traced eights on the table with my finger. I didn’t know what she thought of me. Did she think of me like my mom did?

“Liz, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t let that cause you to distrust yourself.”

Wow. She definitely didn’t think of me like my mom did.

“Thanks.” I looked up at her and cracked a little smile. A little yawn escaped from me.

Patrick walked into the kitchen and quickly noticed it was just me and his mom talking. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I think Liz is tired.” She looked back at me. “We can talk more next time, if you want, when it’s not so late.”

“I can see that.” He laughed. “You ready to go?”

“Not yet, give me a few minutes. I didn’t get a chance to say ‘bye’ to everyone yet.” I quickly left the kitchen. I hugged everyone goodbye and returned. Mrs. Connor and Patrick were still there.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I could use your help in the morning, if you’re interested.” She stood up from the table.

“I’d love to help. Thanks for asking.”

“Good.” She smiled and hugged me. “Patrick will pick you up at 10.”

“It’s okay. He doesn’t have to. I can drive.” I could drive and get lost, but I’d eventually find them. I’d just have to give myself extra time.

“If you’re going to help me, the least I can do is have my son pick you up.” She put her arm around Patrick. “Right?”

Wait. Did she just say what I thought she said? I shook my head and laughed.

“Right, Mom.” He laughed. “I
was
going to offer anyway. But, yeah, I’ll pick you up.”

It was two to one. What else could I say? “Okay.”

* * *

I was glad that Patrick walked me inside my house. It was dark and silent, which was no different than most times when I got home. However, usually when it was this late, my parents were home, in their room. They rarely asked how my day was. If they did, there was no real interest behind it. They didn’t listen to what I said, unless there was something that raised a red flag in their mind. So, I always tried to avoid talking to them when I got home. But there was something comforting about coming home with someone there. Even if they locked themselves in their room and didn’t care about me.

I was edgy as I walked inside. I turned on the living room light and stood there listening to the noises of the house. The familiar creaks didn’t bother me. It was the occasional sounds of stuff from outside scraping against the windows or doors. Or at least that’s I what I hoped it was. It was late and I was tired. My imagination was getting the best of me. At this rate, I won’t be able to sleep because I’d be worried about what was lurking around the house.

This was the reason why I always came home relatively early when my parents would be home late or were out of town. It had always been easier to adjust to the house at night, with all its odd noises inside and out. If I was already home before it was late, usually before dark then I knew no one was hiding out there ready to attack me like some monster in a movie, or worse – my real-life demon.

There was a crash outside. It sounded like it was on the side of the house. I didn’t need to hear that.

“Uhh, Patrick… do you think you could stay for a little while?” I sputtered. There had to be a reasonable explanation for the noise. Right?

“Yeah, of course. I’m sure it was nothing. It was probably just a stray that knocked over your trash cans or something.” His voice exuded confidence. It made me feel better that he was there and heard the crash too. It wasn’t my imagination.