Time Warp: Turkey Day

[Marnie Sullivan]

"...was wondering if you were staying in town for the break?"

"Yes, I'll be here."

"Do you have Thanksgiving plans?"

"Nothing set in stone..." Nothing at all, really. Her parents had floated the idea of coming to Pilot Ridge themselves, but that had fallen through.

"My partner and I will be having a dinner that day. You're welcome to join us..."

-

Backdated November 26, 2015

It had not come as a surprise that Marnie's parents were staying in Maine over the holiday. If anything, it had become standard operating procedure for the last couple of years. The only exceptions so far were Christmases and her graduation. All the same, the news had come with the sting of disappointment, which Marnie had dwelled on until the phone call from Dr. Neville.

It was nearly five til' when Marnie rang their doorbell with one mittened hand; the other hand held a pie. She'd been shooting for ten or quarter til', but the bus stop was a bit of a walk away and half the sidewalk was still buried under their last snowfall.

Although she'd never been to the psychiatrist's house before, Marnie had been in the neighborhood once. She'd even run into him then, on a jog that had taken her further from Hammel campus than she'd planned. And while Marnie wished her parents could have visited, or at least given her time to buy an Amtrak ticket, she liked that Dr. Neville had thought to invite her. And Mr. Bernstein; although she didn't know the main well at all despite renting from him, this was his Thanksgiving, too. 

[Dr. Sean Neville]

As per his discussion with Josh, the two men had baked pies the night before, which Sean had carefully wrapped for today’s supper, except for the one that Josh planned to bring with him to his parents’ apartment. He had wrapped that one for his partner, along with the bottles of wine and sparkling cider that the psychiatrist planned to send as tokens in his absence.

The other man had promised to call him when he was on his way home, and they had agreed that it would be safer for Josh to take a taxi.

After that, Sean had done a brief dusting of the downstairs rooms where the guests would find themselves for the evening, and he had done a bit of vacuuming. Afterwards, he had settled himself in the kitchen with the radio on, so he could focus on cooking

He had told Marnie a time that was a couple of hours before Josh was due to return home and the rest of the guests were due to arrive. He’d mentioned wanting to do a bit of cooking, since he thought she would appreciate the feel of home, given that her parents hadn’t invited her back.

When she arrived at the door, he had the turkey in the oven, marinating with oranges and the stuffing, and all of his counters were covered with other ingredients. The annual broadcast of Arlo Guthrie’s Alice’s Restaurant played in the background. Upon hearing the doorbell, he washed his hands and crossed from the kitchen to the foyer, greeting her with a smile. “Happy Thanksgiving. Please, come in.”

[Marnie Sullivan]

"Happy Fanksgiving." The scarf wrapped around her face muffled Marnie a bit, and her cheeks were a patchy red where they'd been exposed to the wind. She knocked her boots against the doormat to dislodge the snow caked to her soles before stepping inside. As much as she enjoyed when the weather turned cold in Pilot Ridge, Marnie was still glad to be indoors.

With one hand still carefully holding the pie, the other unwound her scarf.

"Thanks for having me," she said. "Your house is really nice."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean shut the door behind them, giving them privacy and providing a barrier between them and the cold outside. While the snow had melted for the most part in the absence of fresh storms, Vermont had an unmistakable chill in the air during the Thanksgiving week and weekend. The house heater had been running since the psychiatrist had woken this morning.

He held his hands out, offering to take either the pie or her jacket once she had disrobed (or both), so he could put them in their proper places.

He also offered her a smile. “Thank you. I decorated it myself.”

He had, since he had lived in this house for twenty-one years prior to his reconciliation with Josh. And, while he had offered his partner the opportunity to add any furniture he wanted or to move anything around that the younger man desired, Josh hadn’t taken him up on the opportunity. Instead, the attorney, who had held no emotional attachment to his furniture or home décor (with the exception of some holiday decorations and Judaica) had left it back at the house that Marnie now rented.

“I can hang up your coat, and then you can wash up. I’m working in the kitchen and I could use a hand.”

[Marnie Sullivan]

Marnie passed the pie to his waiting hands, which freed hers up to tug off her mittens and unbutton her coat. Shrugging it off revealed a sweater festively emblazoned with a turkey wearing sunglasses. She passed him the coat, too, at his offer to hang it up.

"Thanks, which way's the washroom?" She liked the idea of helping in the kitchen, at least more than sitting around while Dr. Neville waited on her.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean took the pie in one hand and the coat in his other. Then, in response to her question, he gestured with his elbow down the hall. “Go through the rotunda and then take the door on the right.” It was a small bathroom, not the type where one could take a hot bath, but it was large enough to wash.

“Then, when you come out of there, go back through the rotunda and go left; you’ll find the kitchen there.”

Since this was Marnie’s first visit to his house, the psychiatrist needed to walk her through it in the absence of a formal tour. The house was huge, far larger than a single man, or a childless couple, required, but Sean had purchased it with the hope of raising a family here. That such a plan hadn’t materialized beyond those few months of fostering, and the few times he had taken student in, was unfortunate. Still, he liked the house, it was comfortable and familiar, and, large as it was, he and Josh could tend to it.

Perhaps someday they might need to downgrade, but hopefully not for a couple of decades.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” he promised her.

[Marnie Sullivan]

"Okay." As soon as she headed off, Marnie was glad for the directions. Outside, the house didn't look small by any means, but inside it was so much more obviously easy to get lost. In the rotunda, instead of hanging that right, Marnie craned her neck upward for a look up the stairs. If she had a mind for snooping, she wouldn't be surprised to find a dumbwaiter leading to a secret passage somewhere.

After finding the washroom, she hurried to make up for the time spent admiring the round staircase. Soon Marnie reappeared in the kitchen, her thick sweater sleeves still rolled up around her elbows to keep them dry.

"What can I help with?" she asked.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean hung her coat on the coat rack, since he had room at the moment. When the rest of the guests arrived, eventually he would have to move the coats upstairs to lay across a bed in a guest room. But he needn’t concern himself with that for the moment.

After hanging her coat, he brought the pie into the kitchen and set it beside the two that he and Josh had baked. Their dessert table was off to a good start, and he smiled at the thought.

The kitchen and the living room were decked out in harvest décor; Sean didn’t approve of the pilgrim or Native American decorations that they sold, and he would never use them. But he viewed Thanksgiving as a harvest day, and so he could indulge in such decorations. Pumpkins and ears of corn and leaves. The Chanukah decorations went up on Friday, as per his and Josh’s agreement.

The kitchen was also decked out in food and cooking supplies. He had covered nearly every inch of available surface space, since he had so much to finish preparing before the rest of his guests arrived.

“That depends on what you feel like doing. The turkey is already in the oven.” That had taken his first priority. “I have to make a number of side dishes. Have you ever made noodle kugel?”

Most likely not, since it fell outside of Marnie’s cultural heritage, but she might surprise him.

[Marnie Sullivan]

Even if the turkey hadn't been in the oven, Marnie wouldn't have volunteered to deal with it. She'd never cooked a whole turkey before, and since it was the typical centerpiece of a Thanksgiving meal, she didn't want to risk screwing it up. Side dishes were a different story.

"Hm- mm," Marnie shook her head. She'd never even heard of it before; it sounded a bit like "strudel" but if it was a noodle dish, it was probably nothing like that. "What's in it?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean handed Marnie an ecru-colored apron with a leaf pattern and a cartoonish turkey in the middle that said “Gobbleicious.” He had no shortage of absurd decorations that friends had given him over the years; at least this was one of the more appropriate gifts that he’d received.

His own apron was black with the outline of a bear, proclaiming “I want to give you a bear hug.” That was more of a private joke between himself and his partner, and occasionally Greg Strickland.

“Egg noodles, sour cream, cottage cheese, eggs, raisins.” Sean knew the recipe by heart, after making it so many times over the past three and a half decades. It certainly wouldn’t qualify as the healthiest dish at this gathering, but it was traditional in Josh’s family, which made it traditional for their joint Thanksgiving. “It’s a semi-sweet/semi-savory almost casserole,” the psychiatrist explained.

It had sounded peculiar to him when he had first learned how to make it, but he couldn’t argue with results.

“Otherwise, we can work on something a bit more typical: I have to make yams and mashed potatoes, and we have some vegetable dishes to make. And I wanted to work on cookies before Josh gets home.”

[Marnie Sullivan]

Marnie took the apron without getting a proper look at it and slipped the loop over her head, but saw the turkey as she knotted the straps behind her back. She grinned; not only was it silly, it matched the turkey on her sweater.

Meanwhile, Dr. Neville was explaining the noodle kugel; did she hear that right, raisins? The rest of it sounded plausible, but the raisins were what stuck out as strange. But this was her first time hearing about it, maybe it was one of those things like hot dogs with cream cheese that didn't make sense but some people swore by.

"It's fine, I can help if it's not super complicated," Marnie replied. That was the real risk. Since she'd begun living on her own her cooking skills had expanded by necessity, but kugel was entirely new and didn't want to mess it up any more than she wanted to mess up the turkey.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean enjoyed his time at home, and holidays in particular (even though Thanksgiving brought with it bad memories and personal discomfort), because he could relax and let his hair down. He would never get inappropriate with someone less than half his age over whom he held a position of authority, but, in his own home, he didn’t have to be Doctor Neville, the Hammel psychiatrist that the students incorrectly believed to be half-omniscient and entirely asexual. He could be Sean, the middle-aged man who self-identified as a hippie and had a sense of humor that most of those same students didn’t appreciate or acknowledge.

“It isn’t complicated,” he assured her. The contents might sound eclectic, but they came together well, and, more importantly, the dish took little effort to make.

With that, he took out a 13X9 inch pan and set it out on the counter. Passing her the cooking spray, he requested, “Could you grease this while I drain the noodles?”

He had those on one of the stove burners. All four of them were currently occupied.

Cooking for Thanksgiving always proved to be such a production.

At least he already had a colander in the sink; putting the tools in proper positions made this a little easier.

[Marnie Sullivan]

"Okay." Marnie took the cooking spray from him and gave the pan a generous spritz. "Does it need to be dusted? Like with flour?" Until recently she wouldn't have thought to ask this, but it was something she'd learned about while trying to decide which dessert to bring today, reading up on cakes and the like. Apparently it helped keep them from sticking to the baking pans.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“No, just the cooking spray,” Sean assured Marnie over his shoulder. Certain baking recipes required dusting, but noodle kugel was a casserole of sorts. The grease prevented the egg, sugar, and cream mixture from burning and sticking to the bottom of the pan.

The psychiatrist hefted the pasta pot and brought it over to the sink, unceremoniously dumping the entire contents into a colander. Setting the pot aside, he lifted the colander and shook it lightly, letting all of the water drain from the egg noodles.

“What do you usually have for Thanksgiving?”

It was a bit too late for Sean to accommodate most of her specifics, although if she liked her potatoes or vegetables a certain way, he could make a smaller portion for her. He liked for his guests to have as close to a taste of home as possible, particularly since most of his guests had nowhere else to spend the holiday.

With the noodles drained, he dumped them back into the pot, which he planned to use as a mixing bowl. As it was, all of his usual mixing bowls had been claimed for other side dishes.

Washing dishes was his least favorite part of his post-Thanksgiving meal production, but he wouldn’t have to worry about that until late tonight.

Returning to her side, he handed her a vegetable peeler and four apples. “Would you mind peeling these?”

[Marnie Sullivan]

With another "okay," Marnie set the greased pan down next to the pot of noodles. Probably for the best it didn't need dusting; the kitchen was so cluttered right now that a flour spill would guarantee a few casualties.

"Just the usual stuff, I think," she answered, while she watched Dr. Neville drain the noodles. "Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes with gravy... Except the cranberry sauce, which is more like a marshmallow jello pudding thing with cranberry bits in it." It was more its own dish than a turkey topping the way some families enjoyed theirs, and honestly made more sense as a dessert than anything else. Marnie had considered making some to bring today, but in the end had defaulted to the safe choice of a pie.

"Oh, sure." Marnie took the apples - depositing all but one onto the counter - and the peeler, and got started. "Anyway, that's dinner, and for breakfast my mom makes pumpkin pecan pancakes while we watch the parade. And hot chocolate, obviously."

The scritch scritch of the apple peeler became more noticeable as Marnie fell quiet. Pumpkin and pecan had been a weird combination when she was little - maybe like noodles and raisins - but as she'd gotten older they'd grown on her and she understood why her mother liked them so much. Before their holiday plans had fallen through, she'd been looking forward to those pancakes. And just seeing her parents again. But Christmas wasn't that far away; for now, at least she had people to celebrate with.