Harvest
by lsquared

The table had been cleared of file folders, her laptop, crayons, and goldfish crackers. In place of Alexis’ work and the children’s snacks were three place settings – orange placemats, clean white plates, and polished silverware wrapped in brown cloth napkins. Kristina had made the centerpiece – a turkey built from a paper plate and construction paper. An arrangement of autumnal flowers and spice-scented candles provided the finishing touches for a perfect fall theme. Alexis had managed to create a beautiful setting for a Thanksgiving feast, but she and her daughters were not able to enjoy it from the kitchen.

“This is not what I ordered!” Alexis yelled into the phone, holding the receiver between her ear and shoulder. Her hands were occupied by a large metal cage. “I wanted a turkey that I could just put into the oven. Not a pet!”

Alexis set the cage on the floor. The live turkey inside squawked and its feathers landed on the clean tiles. Kristina and Molly giggled from across the room, amused by both the unusual animal and their mother’s frustration.

“Someone has to come get this turkey. I’m not keeping it!” Alexis barked into the receiver. The young man on the other end of the line explained that all sales were final and Alexis yelled back, “Well, fine. I’ll call animal control. Or the Butterball hotline!”

Alexis slammed the phone down and glared at the turkey in its cage. She turned at the sound of her daughters’ laughter and offered a strained smile. “It’s okay, girls. We don’t need to have a turkey. We’ll be fine with the …” Her voice trailed off as she surveyed the kitchen counter. It was cluttered with bowls, a carton of eggs, recipes she had torn out of magazines, and various other ingredients. She could hear the girls’ stomachs growling from across the room but she hadn’t even had time to start on any of the side dishes, and their delicious turkey was gobbling in the kitchen.

“Me and Molly think we should name him Bernard,” Kristina said.

“No, please don’t,” Alexis told her.

Kristina shrugged. “How ‘bout … Jerry!”

“Absolutely not. We are not naming the turkey, and we’re definitely not naming him Jerry.”

After she labored over removing bits of shell from a bowl of egg yolks, Alexis decided they didn’t need stuffing if they weren’t going to have a turkey. She prepared a plate of apple and orange slices for the girls and occupied them with coloring books in the other room. When the doorbell rang, Alexis emerged from the kitchen with moistened bread crumbs under her nails and a smear of pumpkin pie filling on her right cheek.

“Who is it?” Kristina asked.

“A miracle, I hope,” Alexis whispered under her breath. She wiped her hands down the front of her apron and opened the door. “Jax! What are you doing here?”

He flashed his bright smile and held up two large paper bags, the Metro Court emblem printed across the front of each. “I brought Thanksgiving,” he said. He set one down and wiped his thumb across her cheek, licking away the pie filling. “And just in the nick of time, it seems.”

She stepped back to let him in the house. Kristina jumped up from the sofa and Molly clapped her hands together. “Uncle Jax!” Kristina greeted him by wrapping her arms around his leg, clinging to him as he walked across the floor.

“Jax,” Alexis said, taking one of the bags and looking inside to find Styrofoam containers, “you really shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.”

“It’s no trouble. I own the hotel, remember? I just had the chef pack a few of his best dishes to go.”

Alexis tried to ignore the warm aroma of spices emanating from the two bags. “What about Carly and the boys? Shouldn’t you be spending the holiday with them?”

“I did. We celebrated a day early so the boys could be with Sonny today. He said the girls are coming over later?”

Alexis nodded. “Yes, because we’re having our own dinner. I’m cooking.”

Jax pursed his lips.

“Don’t laugh!”

“I’m not!”

She swatted his arm. “I really appreciate your gesture, Jax, but I promised the girls I’d make Thanksgiving dinner.”

On cue, the turkey rattled in its cage.

“What was that?” Jax asked.

Alexis shook her head but Kristina answered, “That’s Bernard! He’s our turkey.”

“Gobble, gobble,” Molly shouted gleefully.

“Bernard?” Jax asked.

Alexis covered her face with her hands. When she felt Jax’s hands on her shoulders, she leaned toward him, her forehead pressed to his chest. He rubbed her back and said, “I can see things didn’t go as planned.” He lowered his voice into a whisper, “You can put the food into dishes and serve your girls. They’ll still appreciate the gesture, Alexis.”

She lifted her head and nodded. “I just wanted to provide for them, you know? This day is about gathering food and sharing it with your family.” As she spoke, Alexis felt her frustrations over the turkey and the disaster in her kitchen ease away. She looked into Jax’s kind eyes, reached up, and pressed a kiss to her friend’s cheek. “Thank you, Jax.”

The savory smells of sweet potatoes and corn casserole filled the room as Alexis and Jax carried bowls from the kitchen to the table, presenting the restaurant-prepared food in as homemade a fashion as possible. Jax carried Molly to her seat at the table and Alexis lit two candles. The doorbell rang just as they were both about to sit down.

“I’ll get it,” Jax offered. He opened the door and sighed. “Jerry. What are you doing here?”

Jerry had a bottle of wine tucked under his arm and held a white grocery bag identical to the one Jax had brought earlier. “Little brother! What are you doing here?”

Jax stepped to the side, allowing Jerry a view of the feast laid out on the table, the girls anxiously waiting to dig into the mashed potatoes, and Alexis looking both confused and pleased. “You’re interrupting,” Jax told his brother, maintaining a civil tone for the children’s sake.

Alexis joined the brothers at the door. She pointed to the Metro Court bag, the fresh spices and hint of sweet cherry pie warming her, and asked, “What’s with the two of you bringing all of this food? You just assumed I wouldn’t be providing a meal for my daughters?”

Both men looked at her, dismissing her question, and back at one another. “Shouldn’t you be with your family?” Jerry asked.

“I was. And I will be. Right now I’m with my best friend.” Jax slid his arm around Alexis’ waist and tugged her tightly against his hip. “You should go.”

Alexis cleared her throat. “It’s okay. You could join us,” she told Jerry, and when Jax pinched her, she elbowed his side. “He’s your brother! And he brought wine.”

“Pinot noir,” Jerry clarified, smiling and handing the bottle to Alexis. “It is supposed to be the perfect compliment to turkey.”

After the girls introduced Jerry to Bernard, the wine was opened and poured, the food re-heated, and the five of them finally sat down to eat. The girls rushed through their meal, preferring to sit in front of Bernard’s cage and imitate him.

“That was amazing,” Alexis declared, pushing her plate away and leaning back in her chair. “I’m supposed to take the girls to Sonny’s, but I don’t think I can get up.”

Jax helped himself to the last of the potatoes and said, “I can take them. I need to get the boys anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Alexis asked.

“Of course!”

Jerry straightened in his chair. He poured more wine into Alexis’ glass. “What a good idea,” he said. “You and I can finish off this wine and start on the cherry pie.”

Jax looked to Alexis for her reaction, and when she said nothing, he told his brother, “I could use your help. I’m sure Alexis is tired.”

“From all the cooking?” Jerry laughed.

Alexis kicked him under the table. “Hey! I tried. And I’ve been dealing with Bernard all day. But, your brother is right. I am tired.”

Jax stood up, clearing the table, and called into the kitchen, “Kristina! Help your sister get her things. I’m going to take you to your dad’s.”

Once Jax had left the room, Jerry stood from the table, carrying his glass of wine with him. He walked the room slowly, stopping to light the candles on the mantle. “If you share that pie with me, Alexis,” he said, “I’ll consider that a substitute for the dinner date you keep denying me.”

Alexis pushed her chair back. She held a hand to her stomach. Her limbs felt heavy, her body weighed down by the food and the wine. “We just had dinner together.”

“With my brother and your children. That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

“Excuse me,” Alexis said, retreating to the girls’ bedrooms to collect their things.

“Bye, mommy!” Kristina shouted, kissing her mother’s cheek.

Alexis hugged both of her daughters and said, “Bye! Have a good time.” She followed the group to the door and thanked Jax for giving them a ride, and for their dinner.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “It was fun, despite the intrusion.” He glared over Alexis’ shoulder at his brother. “Come on, Jerry.”

“Oh, you go on ahead,” Jerry said. “There’s a bit more cleaning up to do.”

Alexis turned to him. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

Jerry smiled, gritting his teeth. He grabbed his boxed cherry pie from the table and followed Jax and the girls outside. “Goodnight, Alexis.”

“Didn’t you bring that for me?” Alexis asked, looking down at the pie.

Jerry placed the box in her waiting hands. “Yes, of course. Enjoy.”

“Thank you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Alexis waved, waiting at the door while Jax helped the girls into his car and Jerry walked further down the street. Once they were gone, she shut the door and set the pie on the table. She poured more wine and looked around the room, at the construction paper turkey and the fall flower arrangements. Alexis’ heart felt full. She forgot about the live turkey in her kitchen, and she felt, for the first time in weeks, a sense of hopefulness. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to console her nephew, to bond with her oldest daughter, to make amends. Yet, standing alone in the aftermath of a busy, intense day, Alexis felt content as well.

She didn’t notice the knocking on the door right away. Assuming the girls had forgotten something, Alexis rushed to open it. “Jerry, really, I’m-”

He leaned against the doorjamb, close enough that she could smell his cologne. The woodsy, masculine scent mingling with the crisp, cold air from outside stirred something in Alexis. She felt awake, her sense of heaviness from the food and wine fading. “I brought that pie to share with you, Alexis,” he told her. “This holiday is about gathering together, sharing food with the people who are important to you.”

His words echoed her earlier statement and Alexis could only stare at him in response. She felt frozen under the intensity of his eyes, his rosy cheeks, windblown hair, and the strength of his words. She did nothing to fight him when Jerry walked back into the house, carrying the pie.

Alexis finally found her voice. “Jerry, I’m sorry, but I wasn’t kidding earlier. You shouldn’t have come back.”

He held his hand up. “Shh.” His tone was gentle, not demanding or mocking. “At this time last year, I was bound and gagged. Bleeding. Lost. What were you doing?”

Alexis flinched. She thought of wigs, shivering, feeling frail, gagging. She didn’t have to say anything; he knew.

“You have a lot to be thankful for. I know your nephew is miserable, Sam is difficult. But you have your health back. Your youngest daughters are happy. Don’t sit here, alone and dwelling. Share a pie with me, Alexis.”

She walked toward him. Alexis took the box and set it on the table. Jerry smiled, about to offer to fetch the plates and forks, but Alexis took hold of his hands. She took a moment to memorize the feel of his hands in hers, his long fingers, heavy palms. She looked up at his face, his eyes softened and looking down at her with a nervous curiosity. “Thank you,” she said.

“Thank you,” he responded weakly; his voice was a mere tremble as he felt Alexis grow even closer to him, his hands at her hips, the front of her body pressed to his. He closed his eyes when she tilted her head and her lips brushed across his mouth. He felt her stiffen for a moment, about to pull away, and Jerry tightened his arms around her. Alexis’ mouth opened against his and their kiss deepened.

Jerry pushed her against the edge of the table. Alexis turned her head when she felt his fingers dance across the button on her shirt. “Jerry,” she panted, recovering herself. “I really do want to eat this pie.”

He smiled and pressed one last kiss to the corner of her mouth. He tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll pour more wine.”