We all had our musts for Thanksgiving. I put up a fight if I didn’t get Ma’s garlic potatoes.
She’d forgotten one year. But we didn’t discuss the Thanksgiving Debacle of 2016. No garlic potatoes and no potato rolls. It’d been horrible.
As I polished off my paper plate with pasta salad, I spotted a woman walking alongside the road with a big purse, a cooler, and an umbrella, the kind you stuck in the sand on the beach, so I nudged Ben.
“Is that Angie?”
He looked up and nodded, so when he rose to his feet, I did the same.
“I’ll go help her,” he said. “Aunt Angie’s here, bud.”
Alvin perked up.
I followed Ben up on the rocks and between the trees, ready to show I was the best boyfriend ever.
Ben pulled me in quick and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Relax. She knows you’re the love of my life. Okay?”
Whoosh. Shit like that worked!
I smiled and kissed his jaw. “Okay. Good. And ditto, FYI.”
He smiled back and grabbed my hand.
Seconds later, we met up with Angie, who instantly used Ben as a coat hanger.
“This is just too fucking hot for me,” she said, out of breath. “I mean, hi.”
Ben chuckled and shouldered both the bag and the cooler, and he grabbed the umbrella too. “Hey. This is Trace.”
I cranked up my politeness, and at the sight of Angie smiling and then—yeah, okay, we were hugging. I had nothing to worry about.
“It’s good to finally meet you, Trace.”
Relief hit me, and I let out a breath. “Great to meet you too.”
“I guess now’s a good time to tell you something about Angie,” Ben said. “She’s a Cubs fan.”
I widened my eyes at him and inched back from Angie. “You tell me that now? After everything—after what you said— You fucking asshole! I’ve been worried we wouldn’t have anything in common!”
Ben got jokingly defensive. “Why would I intentionally bring up something like that? She’s the black sheep of the family.”
Angie cracked up and smacked Ben’s arm. “Yeah, that sounds plausible. Black sheep for having grown up on the North Side. Freakin’ dumbass.” She linked her arm with mine and ushered me away. “Lemme tell you something about my cousin, Trace…”
* * *
“Don’t go any deeper than that, Alvin,” I reminded him and threw a towel around my shoulders.
“I won’t!” he promised. He was only six or so feet out, but it got deep so fast, and he couldn’t swim very well.
Trace gestured and swam out a bit, silently letting me know he’d keep an eye on the boy. I nodded in thanks.
Alvin wasn’t exactly reckless in the water; he literally just walked around in waist-deep water and tried to see if he could find fish and signs of life along the bottom, but it meant he was easily distracted. He didn’t always notice his surroundings.
I tried to bring him up here at least twice every summer, and if that didn’t work, we’d hit up one of the city beaches early in the morning or later toward the evening.
Angie passed me and draped her towel over a rock. “That was a quick dip.”
“To cool down. I’m not done. I just want some coffee.” I wasn’t gonna let her insinuate the water was too cold. I fucking loved swimming. But I’d worked all night, and I was beat.