The Deep End ✔️

3 - friendsgiving

My hands were burning despite the freezing cold biting at my neck, nose, and ankles.

I gripped the stack of hot pie tins in my arms and dared to knock on the door using the toe of my sneaker. I could hear music playing inside and I cocked my head impatiently. Just as I lifted my leg to bang on wood again, the doorknob rattled and I stood straight.

"Meek's here!" Erick yelled over his shoulder.

A harmony of cheers came from the other room, probably the same dining room we ate breakfast in, and I snorted to myself. Erick took half of the pies from the ones in my hands and I relaxed my grip just a bit, wary of third degree burns.

I followed him into the kitchen where we set the pies down. "Hi, Thomas!" Grace chirped from the stove as I shouldered off my layers of jackets. "I'm so glad you could make it this year. It wasn't the same without you."

Last year, I couldn't get the time off work to come down early enough for Friendsgiving. I made it to my Mom's for one day only and then I was back home, slaving away per usual. This year, I carefully organized my vacation and sick days and made sure I would be able to see everyone.

"Erick hasn't stopped whining about it since last year," I said and she laughed, making Erick scoff.

"Only because you were picked for mashed potatoes and no one could do it last minute so we had a potato-less Friendsgiving," he said defensively, just as the brigade walked through the door.

I was instantly bombarded with love from Carlos and Chris, who wore unintentionally matching sweaters. A glass of wine was ushered into my hand before I could protest—not that I was going to. Alcohol was an old friend of mine, always having my back and keeping me from losing it. Grace's kids and husband were in the dining room, as well as Caitlyn and Ben, a girl I didn't recognize, and a familiar face.

"Joey?" I said.

Joey looked up from his phone and our eyes met. I offered a smile as his face lit up in recognition, starting towards me. "Well, well, well," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Small world, isn't it?"

"It sure is," I agreed. "Who do you know?"

"Me," Erick said from behind me. "We work together."

I raised my eyebrows. "You?" I said in surprise, looking at Joey. "Construction?"

He laughed, tipping his head back a bit. "I know, I know. I actually really like it," he said as his eyes slid over my body, down my black crew neck and raking back up my tattered Converse. "You look good, Meek."

I didn't believe him.

The bags under my eyes could weigh down a camel, my skin was breaking out from the weather drying it out, I had cut my hair short a week ago and it looked horrendous, and I lied to my mom—I'd lost weight since the last time I saw her.

So the compliment was just a means of trying to get me to go home with him. Which I'd oblige if he tried a little harder.

Joey and I had met on a dating app a few years ago and hooked up casually a few times before I ghosted him. There was just something about him that I wasn't into, but I could never place it. He was definitely hot, definitely my type, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he was also incredibly dull.

"Thanks," I said, giving him a flirty smile.

We all mingled while Phoebe finished preparing dinner. Other than the classic dishes that deserve to be at every dinner—pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, and greens—we didn't do the entire Thanksgiving spread. It was usually a casserole or pasta or something, something easy to cook a lot of and not exhaust ourselves before the actual holiday.