Everyone’s eyes fall to me, and it takes concerted effort not to duck my head.
“That’s right, Forrest, I’m about to embarrass you, so don’t wait for the end of the toast. Drink up.”
I chuckle and salute her with my glass before taking a hearty gulp of cabernet.
“Back home, all our friends know about our honorary ‘nephew.’ The back-country boy who got into Stanford at sixteen. The one leading the charge against breast cancer in the name of his mother. The one who takes the time to send a couple of old ladies birthday cards every year,on time, and who got the best endocrinologist in the country to personally take on Yoon’s case.”
Beside Alice, Yoon mouths the words “thank you” at me, pressing a hand to her heart, and it almost makes sitting through Alice’s laundry list bearable.
“We didn’t think it was possible to be prouder, but that was before this trip.” Alice stops to nod at my dad, whose mustache is so bunched and bristled, I know he’s seconds away from shedding tears. “Forrest, we know how much you’ve given up to come and take care of this crotchety old bastard, along with the rest of us.Your home, decent weather, civilization in general, and God only knows what sort of work opportunities.”
At this, Margot slides her hand into mine and says proudly, “Oh, just a multimillion-dollar research grant or two.”
At her words, alarm buzzes through me like I’ve been electrocuted. My father’s eyes, which up until now have been soft and tearful, go sharp as they find mine. “Grant?” he says. “What grant?”
For a long moment, everyone is silent, with their wineglasses still raised in a tableau of shocked surprise. My internal temperature rises about four thousand degrees, but somehow, I don’t turn to ash on the spot. Picking up on the abrupt change in atmosphere, Scout lets out a short whine. Beside me, Margot seems to realize she’s unintentionally dropped a bomb right next to the turkey, and her hand freezes in mine.
“You haven’t told him,” she says in soft horror.
Reflexively, I look at my dad.
“The Bauer-Hinckley?” he asks me in a cracked voice.
Jo covers her mouth with the hand that isn’t holding her wine, and memories flood back of video-chatting with them during the many arduous months of preparing my proposal. I nod once, and my dad’s eyes widen beneath his shock of silver hair. He and Jo know as well as my research team how impactful this funding would have been. It’s not just the opportunity of a lifetime—it’s the opportunity ofmylifetime. It’s what I’ve been steadily working toward for the last decade, and under any normal circumstances, I’d be floored by winning it. As in literally passed out on the floor.
Instead, I’ve barely allowed myself to think about it. Being chosen for this only to let it slip out of my hands after investing so much hope and effort has simply been a loss too large to process, on top of everything with my dad. It’s been far easier to lose myself in Margot, but now, with every eye on me, I get to open the lid on my grief with seven other people.Wonderful.
“You got it,” Dad says, his mustache quivering uncertainly. “You got it, and you didn’t tell us?”
Regret and guilt are two iron fists to my solar plexus. “It’s not that simple,” I say.
By now everyone’s glasses are back on the table, and for once, Ollie isn’t smiling or throwing me a dirty look. Even Topher manages to look sober. Unable to understand what’s going on, Scout barks nervously, startling us all, until my dad pets him absently.
“I’m so sorry I said anything,” Margot whispers, looking between me and my dad. “It wasn’t my place—I didn’t think. I just assumed—”
I squeeze her hand and look at her. “Not your fault. I should have told them already.” I take a breath and look at Jo and my dad. “I’m sorry I didn’t. I chose not to say anything because I’m not accepting the grant. There was no point in upsetting anyone.”
My dad rounds on me. “No point, my bony ass. You hid this from me because you knew what I’d tell you. You’vegotto go back, Forrest. You told me back when you were applying that this was the funding you needed to make a real impact on TNBC. To help everyone who’s facing what your mother went through.” His thick eyebrows slant together in something that’s half plea, half reproach. “You’ve got to accept the grant and give up this pretense of being my goddamn nursemaid when we both know that’s not even why you’re really here.”
Shame cuts deeper than a carving knife. This is the first time he’s called me out on the guilt that binds me here since the night of his mobility gain. He had plenty of chances to discuss it with me while we were in Anchorage, and I’ll be damned if he thinks we’re going to have this conversation at the Thanksgiving table. “We’re not doing this right now. I’ve already made my decision.”
“Oh yeah? Already told the committee, have you?” His hawk’s eyes dart to Margot and back to me. “Or can you not bring yourself to do it while Margot’s here?”
My whole body seems to swell as I grip Margot’s hand a little too tightly, wishing I could hide her behind me. I’m not the only person in my family who likes solving puzzles. “Leave her out of this.”
Then I feel the stroke of her thumb on mine, and the fire I’m about to breathe dies down to burning coals. When she speaks, it’s like cool water running over my scalded heart.
“Alice is right. Forrest is the most selfless person I’ve ever met, and we should all be thanking him—not berating him for a decision I’m sure he’s considered from every possible angle. Would I love for him to come back to L.A. with me?” She doesn’t look at me as she poses the question, but I see her throat move in a tight swallow. My pulse is thrumming in my ears, nearly drowning out my ability to hear her quiet answer. “Of course I would.”
She looks up at me with such bare honesty and longing that biting my tongue is all I can do to stop myself from promising to follow her anywhere, despite what I’ve just said to my father. Her voice rises as she speaks again, looking directly at my dad. “But I trust him, Trapper. I trust that he’s making the right decision, and you should too.”
In my father’s thoughtful silence, Jo glances around the group and lets out a nervous laugh. “Well, I guess it’s a real Thanks-giving now.”
The tension breaks, and even my dad cracks a sardonic smile. He raises his glass to Margot before locking eyes with me. “To Forrest. And to making the right decisions.”
I drink along with everyone else, but despite all my insistence on having made my choice, I couldn’t be less sure of what it actually is.
25MARGOT
