Try to lighten the mood [Thanksgiving Special | 2023]

To lighten the mood, you nudge her knee with yours. “You seem fairly close to your folks.”

“I was,” she chimes. You notice she says “was” and not “am.”

“Most memorable moment?” You say, not treading lightly into the subject matter. "You don't have to answer, I know you don't like talking about it, but I'd still like to hear about it."

She blows a raspberry as she blinks. “Most memorable moment, huh?” She reminisces while delving into her memory banks. She crosses her arms and starts to smile.

“Well,” she begins, now looking at you with a happier look behind her eyes. “One Thanksgiving, my brother and I were tasked with cooking the turkey for the family.”

You tried to picture kid-Scarlet and a brother you had no face to put to. However, as you saw her recall this moment, you thought she looked more childlike and that her brother might’ve looked no different. You leaned in and listened as she continued. “We overcook the damn bird, and I know it’s terrible because when my dad starts to get into it, I’m seeing him, like, physically struggling to get all these pieces off, and he looks up at me.”

Scarlet clears her throat and takes a deeper voice. “You know your mother wanted moist turkey, not the jerky we take to the mountains, right?”

Scarlet clears her throat again, but she starts using her voice. “My brother, who is only a few feet behind me, walks into the kitchen, plucks one of the pieces of turkey, and tries to eat it.”

She starts laughing, shaking her head as if she’s seeing it for the first time again in front of her. “He bites down one piece and just gnaws on it like a dog worrying about a bone. He tries to play it off like it isn’t THAT bad, but as our dad watches him, he’s compelled to agree. So, then, the three of us kind of realize that Mom is going to hang us for ruining this stupid bird.”

“Alright,” she says, using a deep voice again. “You two need to go into town and get a replacement.”

“Yeah, I tell him. What do you have in mind?”

“Well, you have to drive to town and get something,” Scarlet says in her best “dad voice,” her voice crunches a little bit, and then she laughs. “It’s snowing outside, and my brother and I look at each other. We’ve driven before, but not in the snow. We both try to convince our dad to go instead, but he insists he is the only one who can distract her long enough. I go to my room and get dressed, and my brother does the same. We get to the family truck and-”

“You can drive?”

“I’m getting to that!” Scarlet snaps at you playfully. “I thought my brother was going to drive, but he gets right into the passenger seat and tells me I’M driving. We get into a brief argument, and he finally just throws his hands out. IF YOU DON’T DRIVE, THEN I’M TELLING MOM AND DAD ABOUT YOUR BOYFRIEND.”

Scarlet starts lightly laughing. “I was seeing this stupid kid at the time that my parents absolutely HATED at the time, and I was terrified of what they’d do to me if they found out. So, when he threatened me with this, I jumped into the truck. I asked him why he wanted me to drive, and he just says to me… Because when we wreck the family car, I don’t want to be behind the wheel. It’s your fault for crashing it, and it’s dad fault for putting us out here.”

“I am literally so stressed with the idea of driving in the snow that I don’t even come up with anything to say. As soon as I felt the tires run over the snow, I thought we would slide into the nearest tree and wipe out the entire forest. My brother is watching every little thing that I do and is chewing on his nails. I can hear his nails being broken, and I cringe every time.” she scratches her collarbone, her eyes fixed on yours, expressing cute emotion. “About 5 or so minutes down the road, he reaches over and grabs my wrist, and I almost leap out of my skin. I shout at him to ask what he’s doing, and he just tells me… I’M OUT OF NAILS TO CHEW ON. GIVE ME YOURS.”

She looks down, her mouth in a genuine smile. “We can’t find a turkey, and we honestly thought she wouldn’t notice a roastery chicken–”

“You didn’t crash then?”

“NO!” She laughs. “We didn’t crash the car, but… God, that dinner was like nothing else. I mean…Damnit. Yeah. My mom just…laughed so hard when she saw me place this dainty bird on the dinner table. My dad tells her what happened, and what he had had us do, me and my brother, that is… At first, I was mad at him, but my dad just winked at me. He said he was proud of me…driving in the snow and back for the family.”

“Proud me,” she scoffs. Her voice lowers, and her smile fades. “Look at you. Making us proud. Our brave daughter. Who would have thought one year down the road I’d fuck it all up for us. What’s there to be proud of?”

The cheerful story becomes bitter as hindsight draws in. The mood returns. Uncertainty. Uncomfortable atmosphere. Adulthood and crooked lifestyles. She licks her bottom lip and looks up at you. “I’d go back and change that, I think.”

“Change what?”

She shakes her head. “Me… I think. Change me for them. Make’em proud. They deserved that daughter that drove in the snow, not the one that would get involved with the wrong people.”

“What’d you do, Scarlet?”

Her eyes dart to the clock on the wall behind you. She sighs, and you know she’s about to change the subject. “We should get out there and get our gear before we’re out of time, don’t you think?”

You nod. “Yeah, we should.”

“Yeah,” she says and gets off the stool, placing enough money on the counter for your meals. You stop her before she can get far.

“Scarlet,” you say. She turns back to face you, tilting her head to one side. You grip her wrist and stare deep into her eyes. “You can talk to me.”

“I will,” she promises but then starts to avoid you. “I just can’t right now. It will get my head in the wrong line of thinking.”

“Are you sure?”

She studies you for what seems like hours before concluding on her own. “I don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“I wouldn’t,” you promise too.

“You would,” she shakes her hand and gently pulls her hand out of your grip. “Let’s get out of here.”