I point at my granddad. “You and I are going to have words, old man.”
He chuckles and bites into his turkey with a smug look on his face. Who knew my granddad was such a brat?
“Ugh…” I groan again and take a sip of wine. “Fine, but if you laugh… No, you’re totally gonna laugh. Suck it up, Wes.So, remember how I used to watch all your races back in high school?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I… started a scrapbook of your achievements. I took pictures of you running, printed out your stats, and clipped newspaper articles. God, this is so embarrassing…”
Mom, on my other side, pats my back. “B-but it mmmade you… ha-happy.”
I wince as I look at Jett. “Told you I worshiped you.”
Now it’s Jett who looks embarrassed, smiling shyly and picking at his food. “Nah, I’m… not that good.”
I throw my hands in the air. “Not that good? Are you freakin’ kidding me? You were right up there with some of the best in the world, babe. You’re crazy if you think you’re less than that.”
“I agree with Wes,” Granddad says, and the rest nod. “We’ve seen you race. Your speed was damn impressive.”
Jett scratches the back of his neck. “I, ah, don’t know what to say… thanks.”
Jett’s so damn modest when he deserves the fucking pedestal.
He glances at me, winking. “Do you really have a scrapbook?”
With a dramatic sigh, I say, “Yes… I’ll show you when we get back, if you want.”
“Oh, I want.”
I point at my granddad again. “I’ll get you back, old man.” Jett rests his hand on my knee under the table, so I focus back on him. “I’ll show you later… God.”
“I look forward to it.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Just no teasing me.”
“What, only you can tease me?”
“Don’t… use me against me. What is that phrase parents love to use? ‘Do as I say, not as I do’?”
“Psh,” Mom huffs. “I n-n-never s-ssaid… that.”
“Not helping, Mom.”
She giggles as she takes a large bite of stuffing.
The rest of dinner is spent teasing me and talking about all the trouble I caused as a kid. Apparently, it isn’t Thanksgiving, but ‘pick on poor Wes day.’
“I see where you get your personality,” Jett says when we’ve wrapped up dessert, cleaning up the mess.
“Yeah, we all kind of tease each other around here.”
While everyone finishes clearing the table, Jett and I do the dishes. There’s no dishwasher, so it all has to be done by hand. Just like cooking, everyone’s involved in the cleanup.
“Thank you all for dinner. The meal was delicious,” Jett says, looking back over his shoulder as he dries a pot.
“Our pleasure, my dear. You’re welcome over here anytime,” Grandma says.
I bump his shoulder with mine as I hand him a clean dinner plate to dry. “Be prepared for even more food. Dennis and Mike are grilling tomorrow.”
