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Dad could do most things for himself now, but he still struggled with weakness in his leg. A recent doctor’s appointment had left him slightly dispirited, because he might never walk again without assistance. His long-term goal was to eventually be able to use a walker; for right now he still needed help getting in and out of the wheelchair. It gave Michael more freedom to work different shifts at the ranch, but Josiah seemed troubled.
Michael brought it up the Saturday before Thanksgiving. He and Josiah had gone grocery shopping together after collaborating for the next week’s dinners, including their small holiday celebration at home. Their trio had been invited to the Woods house, but Dad hadn’t wanted to crash what was going to be a huge family gathering, featuring their prodigal son from California and his husband.
Josiah was thrilled to cook his very first Thanksgiving dinner for them. Even a pared down one with only a few side dishes and one frozen pumpkin pie. “Even though I did spend one Thanksgiving with Andy,” he had said, “he insisted we go out to a Chinese buffet instead of cooking. He did pack away about five plates of food, though, so he definitely got his money’s worth.”
“What did you eat?” Michael had asked.
“I may have made myself sick glutting on Crab Rangoon. Anything with cream cheese in it is a guilty pleasure for me.”
Michael had made a mental note of that.
Dad was working on another two-thousand-piece puzzle when they got home with groceries, and he waved without looking up. He was pretty close to completing this one, and when he got into the final stretch, he hated to break his concentration. They went past him and directly into the kitchen.
Seeing Dad with the puzzle made Michael smile over his memory of their conversation last week while Josiah was at his own postconcussion checkup. Dad had finished his latest puzzle and sent Michael upstairs to hunt for another one for him to assemble, insisting there was one in Dad’s bedroom closet. All Michael had found was the unopened 3D puzzle he’d sent to Dad last year, so he’d taken that downstairs.
Dad had given the puzzle an exaggerated grimace. “Don’t wanna do that one.”
“It’s the only unfinished puzzle left in the house, Dad. Unless you want me to call Josiah and have him pick up a few on his way home.” They had three more coming in the mail that week but Dad got fidgety when he didn’t have one in progress at any given time. Plus, it was great for his dexterity after the stroke.
“No, don’t bother him, this one’ll do for now. Just don’t see the point in these. A puzzle’s a picture, not a building model.”
Michael studied the picture of the 3D puzzle he’d chosen because the building had reminded him of the church in Weston where Mom and Dad had gotten married and attended service for years. “Sorry, I didn’t know that.”
“No reason you should. Not like we ever talked much after you left. The gesture was nice, though, and I thanked you for it in the last birthday card I sent.”
“But that was last year. I sent you the 3D puzzle this past Christmas.”
Dad frowned at him. “I sent you a birthday card this spring.”
“I never got it.”
“Oh.” So much regret and understanding had never been rolled so tightly into two little letters. “When I didn’t hear back, I guess I figured you were finally done with me. Then you showed up in the hospital, real as rain. Couldn’t believe it. Didn’t wanna believe it was more than pity, but you stayed.”
“I stayed.”
“And now you’re thinking about turning this old land into something again.”
“Definitely thinking.” Michael had held up the church puzzle. “Want to try something brand-new with me, old man? See how we do together?”
Dad had grinned so brightly that Michael had known without them saying it—things between them were truly, finally forgiven. The finished puzzle proudly held court on a shelf near the fireplace, carefully varnished to protect it against age and time.
Michael began taking groceries out of his and Josiah’s bags and lining them up on the counter for Josiah to put away. Josiah had slowly taken over the kitchen and rearranged a few things in the cupboards, which was fine with Michael since Josiah did the bulk of the cooking. Dad couldn’t reach the upper cabinets anyway so his opinion didn’t matter. The only thing Josiah hadn’t changed—beyond taking everything out once to give it a good scrub—was the fridge. Eggs were where Michael always remembered them being, same with fruit in the left crisper drawer and vegetables in the right.
“Do not touch the stuff on this shelf,” Josiah said, pointing into the fridge. “That’s stuff I need for Thanksgiving, and I don’t want to have to go back to the store last minute. Especially not one so far away.”
“Off-limits, got it.” Michael pulled an apple they’d gotten for snacking and took a big bite, so glad they’d managed to find the last of the Honeycrisp for the season. They were his favorite apples. “Is it too soon to leave the turkey in the fridge?”
Josiah quirked an eyebrow. “It’s a twenty-pound turkey and I want to brine it Wednesday, so yes, we need to start defrosting it.”
“Cool. I’ve never done this, either, you know. Mom always cooked our Thanksgiving meal. My first few years with Kenny, we either bought a meal from a restaurant or went out, and after that everything was catered. I really love the idea of cooking with you. I guess Dad can assist if he wants.”
“How benevolent of you.” Josiah rolled his eyes but was grinning. Dad basically stayed out of the kitchen now unless they were having a rare dinner at the table. “I’m sure if Elmer wants to help, he’ll find a way to help.”
“Yes, he will.” That was the perfect segue into the topic Michael wanted to broach tonight. He took a step closer to Josiah and lowered his voice. “Dad’s regaining a lot of his independence.”
“He is.” He put a box of instant stuffing mix into a top cupboard. “I’m really proud of him.”
“I bet it worries you a little, too.”
