Page 57 of A Fine Line

The main house was big: forty-five hundred square feet with six bedrooms and six bathrooms, enough to host us all but when everyone was in the open space at once it had all of our nerves jumping. Therefore, by the time Crew came down freshly showered with my Nana’s homemade goat soap and smelling like an absolute dream of a man, we rushed everyone out.

“Come on, Winnie girl. Don’t kick me out, now.” His eyes poured charm and playfulness and I needed this Crew all to myself.

I needed to keep him like this, right here with me. As long as I could.

I glanced over my shoulder to my aunts, who stood there arms crossed and eyes squinting at me.

“Sorry, love.” Lottie’s mom patted my shoulder and winked at Crew. “You know the rules, no kids or husbands in the kitchen on Thanksgiving day.”

Crew playfully rolled his eyes and gave our joint hands one last squeeze. “Seems a little sexist.”

“It was solidified when Knox stuck his fingers into four hundred degree caramel when he was sixteen and had to be rushed to the ER.”

“Fair,” Crew shrugged and went outside, immediately saddling up next to my cousins and their kids and dad’s as they pulled together a rough game of football.

The kitchen buzzed with energy as my Nana, aunts, Lottie, Felicity, and I moved around, chopping, stirring, and organizing a feast big enough for an army—or at least the extended family. Which, let’s face it, really was an army. I was elbow-deep in piecrusts, the smell of roasting turkey already filling the air, when they started asking about Crew. Of course, they couldn’t resist. They had that southern curiosity that I think was injected into us as babies. Even I couldn’t escape it in Philly.

Take the girl out of the farm but can’t take the farm out of the girl and all that.

“So, how’s Crew doing? He’s such a good one, isn’t he?” My Aunt Linda asked, her voice warm as she diced sweet potatoes for her casserole- which was more marshmallow than potatoes.

“Oh, we just love him,” Nana chimed in, her eyes twinkling as her hands shakily stirred the gravy. “He fits right in with this family. Such a smart young man.”

She was referring to us playing card games at the table last night.

With Papa next to Crew and Nana on my side we shared a game of seven up six down. Crew caught on in an instant, and despite my Grandfather always cheating, he still won somehow.

He claimed it was due to his magic hands and after feeling how those hands gently caressed my shoulders back and forth in the early morning golden hours? I didn’t argue.

“I still can’t believe you guys played without me.” Lottie slumped into the barstool, not joining in on the cooking because her nails were recently done and also said an ennui ‘ew’ when she witnessed my aunt spreading turkey legs wide as Felicity shoveled carrots and onions in its stomach.

“We didn’t invite you because you always bring money into it,” Nana shook her boney finger at her. “And I can’t afford to let you keep emptying our wallets.”

“Which reminds me,” Lottie cleared her throat. “You guys each owe me fifty bucks. I told you Winnie was bringing a guy home.”

“What?” I lifted my head from the crust I was forming a pretty leaf design on. “Who said I wasn’t going to?”

Everyone except for Lottie all whistled and let their wandering eyes go back to their assigned tasks. A laugh bubbled out of me, “You guys suck.”

“To be fair,” Felicity in her sweet tea voice said, “I didn’t think you wouldn’t bring a guy. I more so just thought you’d cancel.”

“Me too.” Aunt Sonja piped up.

“Same.” Lottie’s mom added.

“Well, I for sure thought you weren’t bringing a man so I guess I’m the witchy one.” Nana kept stirring with her whisk without an ounce of apology.

The women around me laughed, heads tossing back with loud thrills of joy filling the open room.

I smiled, wiping flour off my hands, and glanced out the window to see Crew. There he was, in the backyard with my cousins, tossing a football with the little ones. He juked out my favorite little cousin, Johnny, and pretended to slip as Johnny took the ball. With utter joy, he ran down the ‘field’ passing one adult attempting to catch him after another until he reached Knox, scoring a touchdown. Knox threw Johnny over his shoulder and in his ten year old delight, he cried out in laughter and success as all of the men shouted their congrats to him.

Crew looked completely at ease, his laughter carrying through the crisp morning air. I couldn’t hear it and watching it without the sound feels like I was missing a part of my favorite movie playing one room over. His dark hair was tousled, his easy grin lighting up his face as he caught a pass from my youngest cousin. My heart swelled.

I love this man.

I think I had for a while now. But watching him here? On this farm? After wiping away every poor memory of this place with exes and making all new, bubbles of memories with just him? I knew. I knew he was mine, and I was his. And any of this beingfake was absurd. Because there was no faking the way we looked at each other.

And I looked at Crew like I was starving, and he looked at me like I was his first meal after forty days in a desert.

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