Page 68 of Talk to Me

I smiled.

“But am I going to get ringworm?” he asked.

Chuckling, I reached over under the covers to pat his side.

“You’ll be okay,” I said. “I promise. But Mom got me a tube of anti-fungal cream in case.”

Theo groaned, but there was no power behind it. Possible ringworm was no match for how exhausted the two of us were. Before I knew it, I was drifting off to the sounds of Theo’s light breathing.

Uncle Buster was ahead of me in the buffet line. Due to the size of my family, having all of the dishes on the table and also finding room to lay your plate was impossible. So, instead of that, Mom always set out all the food in the kitchen, and we’d all file through, fill our plates, then claim a seat at the table to eat. I watched as the mound of mashed potatoes grew with each spoonful Buster heaped onto his plate. The sizable lump of mac and cheese was nothing compared to the potatoes.

“I don’t know if that’s enough taters, Buster,” I said. “There’s still some left in the bowl.”

He guffawed and elbowed me in the ribs. With an “oof” sound, I smiled back as he slapped one more spoonful of the mashed goodness on his plate and headed to the table. Fortunately, I knew that Mom had another tray full of mashed potatoes staying warm in the oven. Even with Buster’s efforts, she would never allow anyone to go without the Thanksgiving staple. I quickly added some potatoes to my plate and then scooped up a glob and deposited it on Theo’s plate as he held it out to me. Neither of us was going to risk missing out.

With the final necessity on our plates, Theo and I jumped out of line and headed over to the kids’ table to sit down. Having so many family members basically meant that you had to wait for someone to die before you graduated to the main table. You were a kid until one of the older relatives left you a space at the main table in their will. So, Theo and I were surrounded by Evie and all my cousins at the long folding table in the living room.

Unfortunately, even with being relegated to the kids’ table, I couldn’t keep Theo from hearing the discussions my family thought appropriate while eating. We were treated to overhearing my aunt Diane’s struggle with watery stools since getting over her raw milk adventure. Buster regaled the house with tales of the abscess he’d drained on his cow’s flank, including the consistency and smell of what came out of it. Mom told everyone about Evie’s bout of ringworm—all while Evie stared at Theo and grinned and he did his best to keep his turkey down.

“I got it from playing with the chickens,” she reminded Theo.

“You got it from rolling around in the dirt,” I said. “Not playing with the chickens. If the chickens had ringworm—which is hard to transmit to humans from chickens—they’d be losing feathers. You were rolling around in the dirt out there.”

“But momma said—”

“She simplified it, but it’s from the dirt. Not the chickens,” I said.

Evie huffed, but accepted my clarification. Theo did his best to ignore the story and debate, but I saw him scratching his side subconsciously.

Once we’d finished two plates of turkey, ham, mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, corn pudding, roasted Brussels sprouts, cranberry sauce, and too many dinner rolls to count, Mom announced dessert. With extended bellies, Theo and I agreed that a walk outside would be better than leaping into yet another plate of food, no matter how delicious. Mom waved us off as she was bringing out the pies, understanding that we were simply too full.

Leading Theo out the backdoor off the kitchen, we waddled out into the yard and away from the craziness that was my family. The chilly air did wonders for my stomach, the icy wind biting into my flesh, distracting me from my distended tummy. Theo groaned and rubbed his stomach as we walked slowly through the yard, desperately trying to walk off the feeling in our guts. Once we reached the barn, I slumped against the fence alongside it, letting it hold me up as I groaned.

Theo laughed and turned, leaning his back against the fence. He continued to rub his stomach as he stared up at the house behind us. The sky was turning pink at the horizon, bleeding up into a midnight blue higher in the sky. Stars were beginning to twinkle down at us from the velveteen sky above. Twilight. My favorite time of day. At least on the farm.

“I think I get it,” Theo said.

“Get what?” I asked, groaning slightly as I laid against the fence.

“All of your questions about being terminally online,” Theo explained.

“I never said you were terminally online.” I chuckled. “I just get curious about what you find so appealing about inviting people into your life like you do.”

Theo turned and moved to lean against the fence beside me. He bumped his hip against mine and gave me a grin.

“You didn’t say it, but I knew what you meant,” he said. “But anyway, I get why you’re so curious about Peepers and me being an influencer now.”

“Yeah?”

“If you grew up here?” Theo shrugged, his side rubbing against mine. “It’s no wonder you don’t get being online. I haven’t even seen a T.V. in the house. You guys spend all day outdoors, with animals, hanging out with each other. Living life. I get it now.”

“There’s a T.V. in the den,” I said. “We just haven’t gone in there.”

“Exactly!” Theo said. “You don’t center your life around the internet and electronics. You’re just out here vibing. You have a huge family. There’s always someone to talk to or something to do, so you don’t have to search it out online.”

I turned to face him, still leaning against the fence. Theo continued to stare straight ahead towards the horizon. His eyes seemed to reflect the pink and purple beyond.

“So,” I said, “why do you think it’s different here than in big cities or something? At the university? People are always on their phones but they’re surrounded by people and more interesting things to do than we have here.”