Page 5 of Turkey Trouble

“You’re dismissed.” Lieutenant Fabian stands at the head of the boardroom and nods to release twenty of his detectives before the holiday officially begins. As one, we all move. Chairs scrape against the linoleum floor. Cops chatter. Partners turn to each other. And most everyone rubs their belly in anticipation of what’s to come.

“I’m so fuckin’ hungry.” Fletch’s shoulders brush mine as he grabs his coat from the back of his chair and slips his arms into the sleeves. Turning, he hobbles and hisses about the leg wound he’s supposed to be resting. “Mia and I have big plans tonight that revolve around bad food, a movie marathon, and chilling the fuck out.”

“That’s basically what Mayet and I are doing.” I snag my coat and head toward the boardroom door, beating the crowd, but waiting for Fletch to limp his way closer. We start for the escalators, slower than I’d like. But he’s still Fletch, and Fletch has a toxic need to be at work and keep up, despite the injuries he sustains. “We’re ordering in and enjoying the quiet,” I explain. “I’ve waited weeks for this.”

“Did Aubs call you a thousand times to try to force a big family thing?” He fixes the collar of his jacket and rubs his leg asI glance back. “She’s all about family, and to her, family doesn’t mean two people all alone. She’s one of eight siblings, so?—”

“So she thinks every event has to include fifty people and oodles of noise. I know she’s up Minka’s ass about it. But we made a pact.”

“You and Aubree?”

I step off the escalator at the bottom, my eyes set on the doors that lead onto the street outside. Freedom. My wife draped in silk and straps and absolutely nothing else. “Me and Minka, dipshit. We’re both aware of Aubree’s need for people. We knew she’d try to organize something else. So Minka and I made a pact to decline every single invitation, ship my brother out, ignore every phone call Felix attempts to make, and thank Tim for keeping Cato in the bar for most of the night.”

“You’re going home to get lucky.” He limps out of the station and bounces when a cold snap sprints along the street, whipping his inch long hair up. “Jesus, fuck me sideways.” He digs his hands into his pockets and shivers. “It’s colder than ice out here.”

“Mia at home?”

“Yeah. She and Miss Penny are baking cupcakes at the apartment while they wait for me to get home. Can’t say I envy all the sorry assholes who have to deliver food tonight. It’s freezing.”

“I’ll tip well and feel good for my service.” I wrap my jacket tighter across my chest and huff. “Fuck standing here and chatting. It’s too cold for this shit. You good?”

“Yep.” He turns on his heels, but glances over his shoulder. “I’m good. Penny’s got someone picking her up from my place just as soon as I get there. And me and Mia have cake to devour. I’m done with today.”

“Hey?” I call out when he turns, lifting my chin and waiting for his eyes to come back to mine. “Happy Thanksgiving. First one we’ve not spent together since we met.”

He grins and brings his hand up to scratch the stubble on his jaw. “Feels strange. Before now, we would normally pick a bar, pick a chick, and fuck away our evening the best way we knew how.”

“I picked my chick,” I chuckle. “She’s at home waiting for me. And believe it or not, but eating cupcakes with a four-year-old and watching Christmas movies is far superior to the risk of gonorrhea with whatever random hookup you would have chosen. We’re family men now, Fletch. It’s okay that things change.”

“This year looks a hell of a lot different than last year. And next year will probably be different again.”

“Change is good. It means we’re growing.” I step his way and clap his shoulder. “My door is open if you and Mia wanna come over though, okay?”

“Yeah?” Curious, he pulls back to search my eyes. “What about the pact you made with Delicious?”

“I need an hour to make good on that,” I smirk, “then she won’t care who is in our space, anyway.”

“Bastard.” Chuckling, he turns and walks away. “Smug motherfucker. Not everyone is married to their forever, ya know? Not everyone can go home and get laid like you are.”

“Maybe next year,” I joke. “Fifi will be your friend again eventually, right?”

He glances back and burns me with a glare.

“No?” Laughing, I spin and start toward home. But of course, my phone buzzes in my pocket and it’s not Minka Mayet’s patented ringtone. Which means I know who is trying to horn in on my life despite repeated requests not to. Sighing, I dig the device out and confirm my suspicions with a fast glance at thescreen. Finally, I swipe to answer and bring the phone to my ear. “No, Felix. Whatever you want, the answer is no.”

“You’re mean and rude and put simply,nota team player. What happened to the kid who used to screamloyaltyback in the day?”

“I was eight, and I couldn’t even spell the word yet.” I hunch into my coat and drop my head to combat the cold. “Now my loyalty is with my wife, just as yours is, or at least, should be, with Christabelle.”

“It is.” He sits back somewhere, comfortably reclining in his chair. “Doesn’t mean I can’t love you, too. Wanna do Thanksgiving dinner? Get on the plane now and head over.”

“Nope. Mayet and I have plans. But we’ll see you in a week for your wedding.”

“A week is too far away,” he whines. “I want to see you tonight.”

“You won’t see me tonight, no matter what kind of tantrum you throw. I’m not getting on that plane, and even if I did, we’d arrive after midnight. Which means you’re shit out of luck. Next?”

“So thenI’llget on the plane. Get there around eleven your time. Time zones are a thing, bitch, and if you want to play semantics, I’ll win every time.”

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