Walking Disaster

assigned to me. The first hour was awkward, but when the
twins arrived, everyone seemed to congregate in the kitchen, helping Abby to relax. Dad told Abby stories about us boys, and we laughed about tales of previous disastrous Thanksgivings when we
attempted to do something other than order pizza.
    “Diane was a hell of a cook,” Dad mused. “Trav doesn’t remember, but there was no sense trying after she passed.”
    “No pressure, Abby,” Trenton said. He chuckled, and then grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Let’s get out the cards. I want to try to make back some of my money that Abby
took.”
    Dad waved his finger. “No poker this weekend, Trent. I brought down the dominoes; go set those up. No betting, dammit. I mean it.”
    Trenton shook his head. “All right, old man, all right.” My brothers meandered from the kitchen, and Trenton followed, stopping to look back. “C’mon, Trav.”
    “I’m helping Pidge.”
    “There’s not much more to do, baby,” Abby said. “Go ahead.”
    I knew she had only said it for show, but it didn’t change the way it made me feel. I reached for her hip. “You sure?”
    She nodded and I leaned over to kiss her cheek, squeezing her hip with my fingers before following Trenton into the game room.
    We sat down in the card room, settling in for a friendly game of dominoes.
    Trenton broke out the box, cursing the cardboard for slicing the underside of his fingernail before dealing out the bones.
    Taylor snorted. “You’re such a fucking baby, Trent, just deal.”
    “You can’t count anyway, douche. What are you so eager about?”
    I laughed at Trenton’s comeback, drawing his attention to me.
    “You and Abby are getting along well,” he said. “How did this all work out?”
    I knew what he meant, and I shot him a glare for broaching the subject in front of the twins. “With much persuasion.”
    Dad arrived and sat down. “She’s a good girl, Travis. I’m happy for you, son.”
    “She is,” I said trying not to let the sadness show on my face.
    Abby was busy cleaning in the kitchen, and it seemed I spent every second fighting the urge to join her. It may have been a family holiday, but I wanted to spend every spare moment with her that
I could.
    A half hour later, grinding noises alerted me to the fact that the dishwasher had been started. Abby walked by to wave quickly before making her way to the stairs. I jumped up and took her
hand.
    “It’s early, Pidge. You’re not going to bed, are ya?”
    “It’s been a long day. I’m tired.”
    “We were getting ready to watch a movie. Why don’t you come back down and hang out?”
    She looked up the stairs and then down to me. “Okay.”
    I led her by the hand to the couch, and we sat together as the opening credits rolled.
    “Shut off that light, Taylor,” Dad ordered.
    I reached behind Abby, resting my arm on the back of the couch. I fought wrapping both my arms around her. I was wary about her reaction, and I didn’t want to take advantage of the
situation when she was doing me a favor.
    Halfway through the movie, the front door flew open, and Thomas rounded the corner, bags in hand.
    “Happy Thanksgiving!” he said, setting his luggage on the floor.
    Dad stood up and hugged him, and everyone but me stood to greet him.
    “You’re not going to say hi to Thomas?” Abby whispered.
    I watched my dad and brothers hug and laugh. “I got one night with you. I’m not going to waste a second of it.”
    “Hi there, Abby. It’s good to see you again.” Thomas smiled.
    I touched Abby’s knee. She looked down, and then back to me. Noticing her expression, I took my hand off her leg and interlocked my fingers in my lap.
    “Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?” Thomas asked.
    “Shut up, Tommy,” I grumbled.
    The mood in the room shifted, and all eyes fell on Abby, waiting for an explanation. She smiled nervously, and then took my hand into both of hers.
    “We’re just tired,” she said, smiling. “We’ve been working all evening on the food.” Her cheek pressed into my shoulder.
    I looked down at our hands and then squeezed, wishing there was some way I could say then how much I appreciated what she’d done.
    “Speaking of tired, I’m exhausted.” Abby breathed. “I’m gonna head to bed, baby.” She looked to everyone else. “Good night, guys.”
    “Night, sis,” Dad said.
    My brothers all said good night, and watched Abby make her way up the stairs.
    “I’m gonna turn in, too,”