Last Summer(66)

“Would you like me to uncork the wine?” The attendant spoke quietly.

“No, I’ll do it,” Damien answered, not taking his eyes off her. “Talk to me, El. You don’t look well.”

“Of course, sir.” The attendant removed the domes and Ella peeked over Damien’s shoulder to see. On the table was a small roasted turkey, barely larger than a chicken, and all the dressings that came with a Thanksgiving meal at a five-star resort hotel. Mashed potatoes and savory gravy, cranberry relish, string beans with caramelized onions, and an assortment of root vegetables: parsnips, carrots, and sweet potatoes. Damien had gone all out. Steam rose from the plates and the smell of roasted turkey overwhelmed Ella. Warm, juicy, and nasty.

Her stomach roiled and she gagged. Cupping a hand over her mouth, Ella ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet. What had to be less than a minute later, Ella heard the hotel suite door close, then felt Damien’s presence in the bathroom. He knelt beside her. His strong hands gently scooped her hair, holding it away from her face.

Ella’s stomach had emptied and her throat was raw. She felt like she’d been run over by a snowplow.

“I’m sorry,” she said, hoarse. She’d ruined the romantic meal he’d planned.

“Don’t be.” He handed her a towel. She blotted her face. “Did you eat something earlier?”

He thought she had food poisoning. She shook her head. “I don’t like turkey.”

He smiled. “That’s quite a reaction for something you don’t like. Sure you aren’t allergic? I’ve heard that the smell of something can be strong enough to—”

She shook her head. She wasn’t allergic to turkey, but she owed Damien an explanation. The smell of turkey was a powerful reminder of the worst day of Ella’s life. She hadn’t eaten turkey since she was six. She hadn’t celebrated Thanksgiving since then either.

“My parents died on Thanksgiving.”

“God, El, I’m sorry. I wish I’d known.”

Damien knew her parents had died when she was a kid, but she hadn’t gone into details. She hadn’t seen a point. Damien was estranged from his parents and hers were gone. They just didn’t talk about them.

But she now owed him an explanation as to why she despised the holiday, especially if they were going to spend the rest of them together. That dinner hadn’t been cheap, and she felt awful that she’d ruined his plans.

He handed her a glass of water.

“Thanks,” she said after swishing and spitting into the sink. “I hate Thanksgiving.”

“I gathered that,” he said on a laugh. “Wait here, then we’ll talk.”

Damien left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Ella heard the clang of dishes, the squeak of wheels, and the hotel room door open and shut. He returned a moment later, holding out a hand for hers. He led her into the room and Ella noticed the cart was gone. The window was also cracked and the heater circulating, diffusing the smell. Tears beaded in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She felt stupid and silly. She couldn’t believe she threw up. It had been years since she’d had such a strong reaction to the smell.

“Don’t be. We’ll order steaks later. Feel up to having a glass of wine?” She nodded and he uncorked the bottle, pouring their glasses. Giving her one, he raised his in a toast. “Happy Un-Thanksgiving.”

Watery laughter bubbled from Ella. “Happy Un-Thanksgiving.”

Damien settled onto the love seat and patted the cushion for her to join him. He draped a blanket over their laps and his arm around her shoulders. For a short time, they drank their wine and watched the snow fall. She knew he was waiting for her to tell him why they’d never celebrate Thanksgiving, and she loved him even more for not pushing her. But she was ready to talk.

“I don’t remember much about my parents, mostly what Aunt Kathy told me. But I do remember that they argued, a lot. Well, Mom argued. Dad just took it. Aunt Kathy said he loved my mom above anyone else and that he tried hard to keep her happy. Anyway, Mom got pregnant with me in high school. Her parents wanted her to get an abortion and threatened to donate the college tuition they’d saved for her to a charity.”

“I take it some random charity received a hefty donation since you’re here with me.” Damien gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“It did. And Mom made the situation worse by marrying my dad. My grandparents disowned her.”

“Ouch.”

“Aunt Kathy felt my mom was better off without them. They weren’t nice people. But my mom took it hard. I think she loved my dad at one time, but she definitely came to resent him.

“I was six and Andrew four when we went to Aunt Kathy’s for Thanksgiving that year. We’d go every year. She practically raised my dad after his parents died. But that year, my parents drank all day, and so did my aunt. She passed out before we left that night; otherwise, I’d like to think she would have told my parents to spend the night.

“We spent the day playing games and my parents at least acted civilly toward each other. I remember the five of us playing charades. That was fun. But the more they drank, the more Mom bickered. By the time we got into the car, they were both smashed and my mom was spewing such hateful things at my dad.”

“He drove drunk with two kids in the car?” Damien asked, aghast.