"Southern nights, just as good even when you close your eyes, I apologize, to anyone who can truly say, that he has found a better way" -Southern Nights, Glen Campbell
(Happy Thanksgiving in July! Sorry this chapter is kinda cheesy)
"Dally?" asked Becca, just to make sure she understood this right.
"Yep," replied Maeve.
The morning after that eventful night, Maeve had called Becca to tell her everything that had happened. She spared no details when recalling how Tim, Curly and Dally stumbled in, bruised and bloodied. How Curly was stabbed and no one knew whether or not he was going to live—And she told her everything that went down in the bathroom with Dally, the fresh wave of memories hitting her, almost as if she was living through it all over again.
Her hands on his bare abdomen, standing between his legs, the feeling of his gaze over her, looking into his deep brown eyes. They say that eyes are the window to the soul—looking into Dally's eyes, normally you would see his cold anger. You could tell that he'd been hurt by the world, that there was a reason for his hatred of everything and everyone. But looking deep into his eyes that night, she didn't see that. She saw a certain softness she hadn't seen before. She had seen her own emotions reflected back at her.
"Dallas Winston? The one who's been arrested a dozen times? The asshole who's dating Sylvia Davens?" asked Becca, as if she was talking about a different Dally.
"That's the one."
"I just—wow. I mean I get it, he's hot, but really? Out of everyone you could've chosen?"
"I didn't choose him, it just happened! He was there with his hair, and his eyes, and his abs. Becca, his abs." she ranted in distress.
"That good?" She could hear Becca's smirk through the phone.
"Oh my god what am I going to do!" Maeve panicked, ignoring her.
"Try and get with him! Talk to him, flirt with him" Becca encouraged.
"Ugh you make it sound so easy, as if he doesn't already have a girlfriend, or if he would ever even consider feeling that way about me."
"I wouldn't call Sylvia his girlfriend—and of course he would want you, you're beautiful," reasoned Becca, trying to make her feel better.
"Thanks, but we both know I'm not the type of girl Dally likes."
"And what type of girl is that?"
"Gorgeous models who are flirty, confident and won't be concerned with his criminal tendencies or anger issues. Ones that don't expect anything more than casual sex," said Maeve, not hesitating.
"Oh. Well you don't need to be that. You just need to be yourself and if he doesn't like you then he's not the right one for you. But you have to put yourself out there, you can't just keep waiting around, make a move!"
She sighed. "Okay, maybe I will"
"Don't worry. It'll all work out fine." Becca reassured.
Maeve wished she could believe her.
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Every year the Curtis family did Thanksgiving the same way. No matter how early anyone in the house woke up, somehow Mrs. Curtis was always awake before everyone else. They would get woken up by the sound of dishes clanging in the sink, or the smell of cinnamon, and stuffing starting to cook. The three young boys would go outside with their father and play football, each brother fighting on who got their dad on their team. And if the team without their father on it lost, (it always did), they would always blame it on the unfair advantage. Eventually Mrs. Curtis would call them into the house and put them to work, whether it was cleaning, cooking or washing dishes—no one was sitting around. By noon the house was bustling with activity, neighbors, friends, and family were coming and going through the house, eating food and bringing some of their own.
The gang usually stayed the whole day, except for Two-bit, who liked to spend some of the day with his mom and little sister. Maeve and her mom were often out of town visiting family for the holidays, but in the years when she was in town, she always made sure to stop by, always baking some mediocre cookies so as to not come empty handed. Mrs. Curtis' pumpkin pie was to die for, and if she knew that Maeve would be coming, she would save her a slice. The house always had a warm, homey atmosphere, but even more so during the holidays.
Though none of the boys would say it outloud to the others, this year's holidays were something that they dreaded. This would be the first Thanksgiving without their parents. As a response, each brother had a different way of dealing with this fact. Darrys' was that he went a little overboard with the cooking, having started the night before, and pulled out all of his mother's old recipe cards to try and make everything exactly as it used to be.
Sodapop's solution was to try and be happier and more chipper than normal, trying to make it seem as though everything was perfectly normal. What he succeeded in doing was making both of his brothers even more annoyed and gloomy than they were before. Even still, he tried his best to cheer everyone up.
Ponyboy had just decided that Thanksgiving is stupid and he wasn't going to bother with it at all. He went to his room to be alone anytime Darry tried to get him to help with meals or sort through the recipe cards. This caused a good bit of arguing between the two brothers, which Soda tried to mediate—to no avail.
The day before Thanksgiving, the gang was piled into the house like they were most days. Today, the boys had pushed the couch and coffee table as close to the walls as they could get them, creating an open space in the middle of the room. Steve and Two-bit had decided the two of them were going to have a wrestling match after they had an argument about god knows what. Soda had elected himself referee and it was clear he was taking that very seriously.
"Alright you two," said Soda in a very serious voice, "I want a clean match—no funny business, you got it?" He looked between the two of them, waiting for confirmation. The rest of the gang, (with the exception of Darry, who was prepping in the kitchen,) were eagerly awaiting the "match".
Once the two of them nodded, Soda continued, "Alright let's get started!"
As soon as he said that, Two-bit leapt on top of Steve, trying to take him down. He succeeded, as the two were now rolling around on the floor. Everyone else–including Maeve–was cheering and shouting encouragement. Eventually Steve had managed to pin Two-bit to the ground, his flailing and feeble attempts making no difference.
Soda dropped down on the ground, slamming his hand against the floor with every number. "One, two, and three! We have a winner!"
There were various cheers and boos between the four bystanders as Soda took each of their hands, raising the arm linked with Steve's.
"You only won cause I'm hungover," Two-bit said to Steve, trying to make an excuse for his loss.
"When are you not hungover?" Maeve teased. Two-bit was almost always somewhat intoxicated, except for those brief mid-day hours when he was in-between hungover and drunk. Driving with him was always a last resort, and never was a pleasant experience. Although his driving sober wasn't that much better, it was a miracle he'd never gotten in a major car crash.
"When I'm drunk," he said, like it was obvious. "And I'd like to hear what you have to say when it's you getting pummeled."
"Oh I would, but I don't feel like it right now," she said, pretending to be apologetic.
"Uh huh, sure"
Darry then emerged from the kitchen taking in the rearranged living room. "Y'all better put everything back the way it was before, it can't be like this tomorrow."
"Yeah, yeah we'll fix it," said Soda, brushing him off.
"As for you freeloaders," he said, referring to the non-residents of the house, "instead of eating all the food, maybe actually bring something this year...store bought," he quickly added, "I'm not trying to poison everyone on Thanksgiving," he mumbled, walking back off to the kitchen.
"Aw, so what, I gotta buy a pie or somethin'?" complained Two-bit.
Maeve noticed the worried look on Johnny's face. He didn't have the money to buy or make something. She knew that Darry wouldn't mind if he didn't bring anything, he would understand. But she also knew that he didn't want to be a burden to them, and never liked accepting help, (Ponyboy often having to force him to stay over for dinner).
She saw Dally make eye contact with him and give him a nod, as if to say 'don't worry, I got you covered.'
A couple seconds later, Dally made eye contact with her before looking away, unbothered.
Maeve and Dally had barely spoken to each other since the incident in the bathroom a few days ago. Sometimes she could feel him looking at her, but when she looked back, his eyes were elsewhere. Any other time, it almost felt like he was purposefully avoiding eye contact with her, looking anywhere but Maeve. It was as if the entire experience didn't mean anything to him, like he didn't want to acknowledge it or her.
She didn't expect for it to be some show stopping moment for him—she knew he'd probably had a lot more romantic experiences with other girls. But she wished that at the least he could treat her like a friend again, even if she knew it could never be more than that.
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The morning of Thanksgiving, Darry didn't wake up to the sound of his mom cooking, or the smell of pumpkin and cinnamon wafting through the house. There was only silence. He was apparently the first one up, so he decided to get started on the cooking as early as possible.
Sodapop and Ponyboy did however wake up to the sounds and smells of a normal Thanksgiving, only this time their mom wouldn't be in her apron making stuffing when they went into the kitchen. But just for a moment they allowed themselves to pretend.
This year was one of the few times when Maeve and her mom didn't have any plans for Thanksgiving, so she would be joining the rest of the gang bright and early to "help" Darry prepare the food. Her mom like most family friends would stop by later before the both of them would go home for their own dinner.
"I'll be there in a couple of hours to drop off the pie and chat a bit before we go home," her mom said, as Maeve was getting ready to leave.
"Also Maeve, who's all going to be there?" she asked. She knew what her mom was trying to ask, she had (mostly) no problem with the people that Maeve hung around with unless for the times when she got in trouble with them. But that didn't mean that she really liked the idea of her being around some of the other more dangerous greasers in town, the ones that frequented Buck's, or got into gang fights. Maeve tried to keep it hidden that most of her friends already did that sort of thing, but when it came to people like Dally and the Shepherd brothers who couldn't for the life of them stay out of jail and the paper, it was hard.
"Ah yes, Thanksgiving, when all the hoods and criminals come together for one big happy meal," said Maeve sarcastically, pretending as though she didn't describe exactly what it was. Her mom gave her a look that showed she wasn't falling for it.
"Fine. But if I find out there's a secret ingredient in the stuffing..." she said, obviously joking.
"Bye mom!"
As she made the short walk to the Curtis' she took in the scenery. The blanket of clouds covering the sun above her not allowing any warmth to seep through. There was an excess of kids playing in the street, parents and relatives cooking in the backyard or chatting on the porch. She greeted some of her neighbors as she passed by having got to know them over the years, wishing them a happy Thanksgiving.
As she walked up the porch of the Curtis she spotted Ponyboy running inside followed closely by Soda.
"Hey, Happy Thanksgiving!" she greeted.
"Whatever," grumbled Pony before moving past her to get inside.
She turned to see an apologetic look from Sodapop. "Don't pay him any mind, he's just grumpy today."
"Yeah I get it. How are you doing?" Maeve asked, concerned.
He sighed, "I'm alright. Doing better than Darry, who's turned into Betty Crocker."
She gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder before holding up her bag of cookies. "I brought cookies, you want a couple before I bring them in?" She knew that if anything could cheer him up, it was food.
He wasted no time grabbing the bag from her and shoving two cookies in his mouth before they both walked inside the house.
"Honey I'm home!" Maeve called out as she walked through the door. Not everyone had arrived yet but it seemed Steve came early to make sure he got plenty of food before it ran out. Darry popped out from the kitchen wearing a purple apron that was clearly his moms.
"Now be a dear and make sure dinner is ready by 7," she said, smiling.
"Oh, haha," he said sarcastically, taking off his apron and throwing it on the counter. "You know you could be nicer to the person who's giving you free food."
"Yes yes thank you. I brought cookies," he said, holding them out to Darry before Steve snatched them out her hands. At least he gave a mumbled "thanks" after he stuffed the cookies into his mouth.
She went to the kitchen to help Darry with the food while people slowly started trickling in. Johnny and Dally came in together holding matching–clearly store bought–pies. Maeve came out to greet them as they dropped them on the table.
"You know I actually made these cookies myself, instead of buying some at the store," she said to Dally, making fun of him for the clearance sticker he left on the box.
"Hey, do you know how hard it was to walk out with two pies in my jacket without anyone noticing?" he quipped back.
"You couldn't have bought them? They were on sale!" she said in disbelief.
"What can I say, I like to save my money," he said, unbothered, walking into the kitchen to talk to Darry. Maeve was relieved that he was talking to her again instead of not even bothering to look at her. It was clear that they weren't going to talk about what happened, but at least he was acknowledging her again. She would take what she could get.
"Hey Soda, you got the nutmeg right?" Darry asked from the kitchen.
"Uhh, no?" said Soda in confusion.
Darry stuck his head out of the kitchen with a look on his face that never meant anything good. "I told you yesterday to go to the store to get nutmeg, you didn't go?"
"You never told me that!"
"Yes I did!"
"See, Steve doesn't remember–Steve do you remember him telling me that?"
"Huh?" Steve said, looking up from the tv.
"He doesn't count. What are we going to do, I need it to make moms pie!" Darry yelled.
"It's not that big of a deal—we don't have to make it," said Soda, trying to calm him down.
"Yes we do, mom made it every year, I have to make it!"
There was silence. Darry wanted everything to be perfect. To be exactly as it was when there parents were here, but nothing anyone could say would change that.
Darry grabbed his jacket, put on his shoes and opened the door. He looked back at all of them waiting before he said, "well come on!" Everyone complied, even Steve and Dally who were clearly not happy about it, but no one wanted to argue with him.
Once they got outside Darry started making a battle strategy, putting people in teams and telling them where to go.
"Okay. Me and Steve'll hit Winn-Dixie. Ponyboy and Soda, you two hit Food Fair. Dally, Johnny, and Maeve, you three got the grocery on Second Street. When we all get back, one of y'all better have nutmeg."
"Are we seriously doing this? What the hell even is nutmeg?" Pony asked Soda. In response, he just shushed him. Darry was having a hard time, and if a manhunt for nutmeg was going to make him feel better, so be it.
Everyone headed in their separate directions , the three of them getting into Buck's car that he—reluctantly—let Dally borrow. He was still not over the race. Maeve tried to get in the front seat, but Johnny beat her to it, giving her a little smirk that she returned with a half hearted glare.
"Man I think Darry's finally lost it," Dally said, while driving to the store.
"I don't know, it's gotta be hard for them," said Johnny.
"He just wants everything to be like it used to be," she said.
They made small talk the rest of the way there, talking about the latest run-ins with Dave and his outfit, the tension becoming higher between the two gangs. The topic soon turned to Curly, and how he was doing with his condition.
It had been a few days since Curly was stabbed. Tim still refused to take him to a hospital but luckily he seemed to be doing alright on his own. He wasn't up and moving around yet, but he seemed to be stable.
They eventually pulled up to the grocery store and got out of the car. It seemed to be busy with people that, like them, had to get last minute items for Thanksgiving.
"We could just drive around and say we didn't find anything," said Dally.
"You want to be the one to tell Darry that Thanksgiving is ruined?" Maeve said, giving him a look. He sighed and the three of them walked into the store.
They each split up, Maeve heading to the spices section, and Dally seeming to think that he would find it in the cigarettes. Of course Johnny went with him, and once Maeve was out of earshot he turned to Dally.
"So what's the deal with you and Maeve?" he asked.
Without even looking up at him, Dally curtly replied, "don't know what you're talking about."
Johnny decided not to press further, and broke away from him to go find Maeve.
He spotted her scanning the spices and awkwardly joined her, pretending to search with her.
"So...what's the deal with you and Dally?" he asked, testing his luck with her.
"Nothing. Why?" she replied, suddenly finding the chili powder very interesting.
"It's just, you know, y'all are acting weird."
"What do you mean?"
"Well you've been looking at each other," he said. She'd forgotten how observant Johnny was. He noticed things most others didn't.
She finally tore her gaze from the spices to look at him. "I'm looking at you."
"Not like that, just, different," he said. She always liked talking to Johnny, he was a good listener and was always understanding, even if it was impossible for him to know what she was going through. She would often be more open to him than other members of the gang, telling him about her problems and her ambitions. But this, this is something she wouldn't tell him, for many reasons.
She decided to ignore him and just say, "I don't think they have any here, we should just head back."
They went to go get Dally who hadn't moved from his previous spot, making sure to stuff a few packs of cigarettes in his jacket before leaving.
"You guys didn't find it?" he asked, lighting up a smoke in the car.
"Nah," said Johnny. Maeve reached out her hand gesturing for a cig, which Dally handed over with mild annoyance. As he handed it to her there hands briefly brushed in a way that didn't go unnoticed by the two, both of them looking up at the other quickly before pulling apart. Apparently, it didn't go unnoticed by Johnny either.
They were the first ones back at the house, the others having not yet arrived. Darry and Steve came through the store next, Darry immediately asking them if they found anything, as they were also out of luck. Finally Soda came barreling through the door, a less enthusiastic Ponyboy in tow.
"I got it!" Sodapop said grinning, holding up the nutmeg proudly.
"Thank god, you're lucky, kid," he said, giving his younger brother a warning glance.
Once the whole issue was resolved, Thanksgiving resumed. A couple others trickled in, friends of Darry and the boys, even Becca stopped by. She didn't stay for long as she wasn't as close with the boys as Maeve was, but she brought some pumpkin bread and chatted with the others–particularly Sodapop.
"So," she said quietly enough so that only Maeve could hear, "you make progress with McMacho yet?"
Laughing at the nickname, Maeve replied, "no not really. I mean he started acknowledging my existence again if that counts."
"See! That's progress!" Becca exclaimed. Maeve sighed, wishing she could be as eager as she was.
"How's things between you and Luke? Did he ever break it off with his 'not girlfriend'?" Maeve asked, changing the subject.
"Nope. I told him if he doesn't by tomorrow, I'm done," said Becca proudly.
"Good for you, stand up to him."
A little while later, Two-bit finally showed up, bringing his little sister with him. Rose was only eight years old and had only ever been to the Curtis house a few times before, but apparently she really wanted to come with him. She was very talkative and confident, like her older brother, and wanted to meet all of his friends. For some reason she seemed to like hanging around Dally the most, which was ironic giving how he had a prejudice against little kids.
"My brother said you used to live in New York, is it true?" she asked him.
"Yep," he replied, not wanting to be mean to his friend's little sister, but desperately wanting her to leave him alone.
"Wow! Did you see the Statue of Liberty?" she asked, intrigued.
"Yeah, wasn't all that special. Hey why don't you go find your brother-" Dally said, before she interrupted him.
"I've always wanted to go to New York, and all over the whole world."
Rose continued chatting away enthusiastically while Maeve watched it all in amusement.
A couple others briefly stopped by, such as Sandy and Evie who came for Sodapop and Steve. Maeve didn't know Sandy all that well, she seemed nice enough from the few times she'd talked to her. But Sodapop was clearly love-struck by her, and it was no doubt she made him happy.
Tim and Angela stopped by a little later, the middle sibling glaringly absent, still recovering from being stabbed in the stomach.
"I swear, I'm going to have to glue that kid to his bed," Tim answered after being asked how Curly was doing. "He keeps saying he's fine, as if he didn't get himself stabbed, fucking kid."
More people walked in and out, eating and laughing, filling the house with a joyous atmosphere. She even saw Ponyboy wearing a smile she didn't see earlier.
She was sitting on the couch, eating Mrs. Curtis' famous pumpkin pie, surrounded by her friend's chatter, feeling as though she was right where she was supposed to be.
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A/N
I know the whole nutmeg manhunt was kinda stupid but I wanted a funny fluffy chapter after all the angst in the last one
Also thank you so much for 1k reads!
Here's a picture of my celebratory croissant
-Lilly <3