Harlyn
There's something unique about American Thanksgivings, at least from what I've seen on TV and in movies, having never experienced one myself. Elly got it in her head a few days ago - when Finley mentioned off hand during a roommate-plus-me hang out that Thanksgiving was this week - that she was going to throw a surprise Thanksgiving for him.
"We'll recreate the magic, yeah?" she said at the time, whispering conspiratorially to Fran, Polly, and me while Finley was in the next room getting more popcorn. "We've all seen Friends. We can do it."
Fran, Polly, and I weren't so sure, but she managed to get almost everything on the "Traditional American Thanksgiving dinner" list she found on Pinterest early this morning while Finley was in class. Elly's ambitious plan is to get everything cooked, or at least close, by the time he gets home from work at five. I popped over after my morning lecture, so it's just the two of us at the moment. But Polly and Fran are supposed to be here soon to help, too.
"Alright," Elly exclaims from behind her phone. "The turkey has a few more hours, but that's perfectly fine. The stuffing and gravy won't take long. I just got the boxed stuff." Her voice drops to a mumble as she continues down her list. "Perfect. We're ahead of schedule. Oh! Do you know what kind of pie Finley likes by chance? I got cherry, apple, and pumpkin filling just in case. I don't know if I'll make all those tonight. That might be overkill."
I pull out my phone and tap into the group chat Elly and I made with Max for an American's perspective. "Um. I'll ask Max. I'm surprised you didn't get premade ones. Doesn't Sainsbury's have a bakery section?"
Elly rolls her eyes at me. "Store bought pies, Harlyn? Over Mum's pie crust recipe? Are you insane?"
"Oh..." My mouth - as if possessed - instantly starts watering. "I haven't had your mum's pie in... years." I don't say it's been since she passed. It's implied. But Elly's cheerful, not an ounce of sadness in her eyes.
"I know. I have all of her recipes, but I've...put off making them." Her smile droops infinitesimally. "Felt weird. But this is a good cause. And honestly, I'm really craving it."
Our phones chime in sync with a text from Max.
AMERICAN THANKSGIVING ADVISORY COMMITTEE
Max: Apple. Definitely. He'll say he likes any, but it's apple. I've seen him eat half an apple pie by himself. Did you get whipped cream/ice cream?
Elly: Yes. Both. Wasn't sure what everyone would want on theirs. Does he have a preference?
Max: Lol. He's got a sweet tooth. But I'm sure you already figured that out.
Max: Also, I've already told you this, but this is a really nice thing you're doing for him.
Me: It's all Elly's idea.
Elly: But we're all making it happen.
Elly: I don't know what your plans are today, but you should call later.
Elly: I'm sure Finley would love to talk to you. Especially on Thanksgiving.
Elly: And we'd like to talk to you too. It's been a bit.
Max: Yeah of course. Let me know when. After you break the news to him, though. Knowing me, I'll ruin the surprise. It's already been hard enough just texting.
Elly: Great. Love ya, Max.
Fran and Polly show up while we're assembling the pies. And as the time creeps closer to Finley getting home, the house gets progressively more frantic. The tiny kitchen is a disaster, flour everywhere and not a bare counter in sight. Somehow, though, we don't burn anything, and Elly and I are setting the table when the front door creaks open.
"I'm home! That smells amazing. What is that?" Finley calls.
I wander into the living room, hoping to keep his attention while Elly grabs Fran and Polly from the kitchen. "Hi, love."
His head snaps up from where he's untying his shoes. "Oh, hi. What are you doing here?" He winces and straightens completely. "Sorry. That's...That came out a lot less happy than I meant it to be. I'm just...I thought you worked today." He toes his shoes off the rest of the way.
"Yeah, well, I asked Martin if I could have the day off for a special occasion."
He blinks at me. "Special occasion?" I look over my shoulder where Elly, Fran, and Polly have crowded into the doorway. "What is going on?"
"It's Thanksgiving, babes," Elly reminds him, stepping forward and tugging on his arm. He gives me a look as she pulls him past me, and I grin. "I'm sure it's hard to be away from home on a big holiday like this, so we thought we'd try to...make Thanksgiving for you."
Finley stops just inside the dining room. "You...what?"
"Happy Thanksgiving, Finley." Elly smiles softly.
"You...you made Thanksgiving dinner for me?" Finley says quietly, slowly, like he can't quite believe it.
"We did," Polly says. "Well, Elly made most of it."
Elly rolls her eyes. "Everyone helped. We just wanted to see you happy, Fin."
Finley's breath stutters. "I... I love you guys." He laughs wetly, and immediately all three girls converge and squeeze.
I watch from the door, smiling, and think back to the day Finley moved in. I saw how excited the girls were to have him move in, how ready they were to take care of him. At the time, I didn't realize how stressed I was that I was all Finley had here. He had Elly, of course, and Amelia. And my parents. There was never any question that he would be supported and taken care of if I couldn't. But there was a worry that I didn't realize until just now that he wouldn't be comfortable here, wouldn't settle in, wouldn't find more people. And watching him be loved so deeply makes my entire body go all warm and fuzzy. And the little watery smile he gives me over the top of Polly's head just amplifies it tenfold.
"Alright, enough soppiness," Elly says, pulling away and wiping at her eyes. "Go shower and change. The turkey has a bit of time left."
Finley nods and turns to me, a tear making its way down his cheek. I swipe it away when he's close enough for me to reach. "You were in on this, too?"
"Of course. And Max."
His jaw drops a little. "He kept this a secret? That's impressive." I huff a laugh, and he steps closer. "Thank you."
"No need to thank us, love. Like Elly said, we just want to see you happy."
There's something in his eyes I can't quite read, but he's smiling. And he pushes up on his toes to peck me on the lips. "I'm going to thank you anyway. Come upstairs with me? Or are you need -"
"No, he's all yours," Elly interrupts. "I'll call you when everything's ready."
Finley darts forward and kisses her on the cheek. "Thanks, El." Elly shoots me a little surprised smile as he starts up the stairs.
"I think you made him really happy," I tell her and kiss her on the cheek, too. "Love you."
"Love you, too, babes."
***
Elly stands once everyone is situated at the table and raises her glass of wine. "I've never participated in an American Thanksgiving before. But from what I've seen in movies, you go around and say what you're thankful for, yeah?" Finley nods. "Well, I'm thankful for all of you. This term, living with you, having Harlyn here all the time..." She winks at me. "It's been amazing. The best three months of my life. We're gonna miss you, Fran, but I'm glad we've had this." We toast and Elly sits back down. "Fran's turn."
"Well, I second all of that," Fran says, glass still raised. "And I'm grateful for my amazing boyfriend. Who, of course, couldn't be here because he has to work."
"Stupid work," Polly grumbles. She shakes her head and perks up. "Well, I'm grateful for all of you. And all of the people in my life who make it bearable."
Finley snorts. "Bearable. What a compliment." Polly makes a face at him. He returns it and turns to me. "What about you, love?"
I can't help the little smile that lifts the corners of my mouth. He's called me "love" a couple times in the week since he did it the first time. I've also seen him a lot more in the last week than I have in almost a month. It's felt almost normal again, like I don't have to tiptoe or be cautious. I hope it's that the tension has resolved itself, but I know deep down there are still things simmering in the background that we're just ignoring.
But tonight, I let myself bask in the warmth of my favorite people and good food and Finley's eyes on me. "Well, obviously, I'm grateful for you." I catch Elly rolling her eyes and give her a pointed look. "And Elly, for being my best friend even after all the stuff I've put her through. And... for all of you. You've all been so good to me." I peck Finley on the cheek. "Your turn."
"I feel like I'm just a tiny repeating machine." I snort, and he whacks me on the thigh. "Shut up. Anyway...you guys are so special to me. I was - moving to a new country was a lot, is a lot. But you've made it bearable." He shoots Polly a look. "And even enjoyable. I still can't believe you guys did this for me."
There's something in his voice that makes me frown - an awe, a wonder that seems just a bit out of place. It's not just surprise because he didn't know or gratitude that we did it. It's more than that, like he doesn't think he deserves it. Like it's some sort of prank we pulled, and we're going to yell "Gotcha!" at any moment. I can't exactly ask him about it now, but that doesn't stop me from thinking about it while we toast and start eating and chatter mindlessly about school and FRIENDS and work.
I know Finley can be self-deprecating, and he can have a hard time doing things for himself, things that make him happy. But I never considered the possibility that he doesn't think he deserves those things. That just makes me unbelievably, unbearably sad. What do I do with that? How do I show him I love him and want him and that he deserves all the good things in his life and also respect his boundaries and make sure I'm not pushing too hard?
I know I try too hard sometimes, sacrifice myself to take care of others. But it's always because of something like this. Because I feel like I'm not doing enough to make sure the people in my life are loved and cared for. This is exactly what I was afraid of at the beginning of the term. I've never been in a romantic relationship for this long and certainly not this deeply invested. And it's what I worry about moving in here. That adds a whole new layer of depth and complexity to our relationship, even if we're just "roommates." It's not just the fear of moving out of my childhood home anymore. It's about moving in with my boyfriend.
See, this is why I've been ignoring all of this.
"Harlyn?" I raise my eyes from where I've been pushing around my last bite of mashed potatoes. Finley is standing, staring at me with his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you ok?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah. Fine." I force a smile that I know he can see right through.
"Ok. Are you done?" He points at my mostly empty plate, and I scoop the last bite into my mouth before handing it to him.
"I'll help you clean up."
"Nope." Elly grabs Polly's plate from her. "We're not cleaning up until we have pie."
She and Finley disappear and come back with two pies and a stack of smaller plates. Finley is eyeing the apple like he wants to marry it.
"Max said you like apple pie, but I think obsessed might be a better word," I say.
His eyes move from the pie to me, and he blushes deeply. "I do love apple pie."
"Do I have competition?"
"No," he scoffs, finally setting down the stack of plates so Elly can dish up.
Polly leans her head on her hand. "Did you ever expect to fall in love when you came here last term?"
Finley snorts. "No. I was dead set against it, actually. Ask Max." He smirks. "I mean, I was hoping to catch Prince Harry's eye, but...I guess he's a bit too old for me. And taken. He's already got his American." I blink at him, and something stabs in my chest. I push it away.
"He's also in America, babes. You wouldn't catch his eye coming here," Elly reminds him, handing me my plate of pie. She dishes Finley's next, piling a huge piece onto his plate. "Oh, I need to text Max. He said he was going to call you. But only after we surprised you, because he didn't want to ruin it."
"I was wondering why he'd been all squirrely this week. He kept sending me those creepy 'I know something you don't know' emojis. Now I know why." Before Finley can sit back in his chair, I hook my hand around his hip and tug him toward me. "What?" I tug harder, and he seems to get the picture, sliding onto my lap and pulling his pie closer. "Better?"
"Mmhm." I press my lips to his shoulder. "Prince Harry, hm?"
He turns to look at me, eyes twinkling. "What can I say? I have a weakness for redheads."
"Awkward."
"Don't worry," he whispers, kissing my forehead. "I also have a weakness for you."
Polly fake gags across the table. "Get a room."
Finley blushes again and turns back to his pie. But he's still smiling.
"Speaking of rooms," Elly says, adding an absurd amount of whipped cream to her pie. "Any decision on moving in here, Harley?"
The smile falls from Finley's face, and he tenses in my arms. I'm so distracted by it that it takes me a minute to get my answer out. "Um, well, uh, not yet. When, uh, when do you need an answer?"
Elly's eyes dart back and forth between me and Finley. "Well, preferably soon. If you decide not to, we need to find someone else. Start posting on roommate sites, ask around, that sort of thing. People are already looking for housing for next term."
"I'm moving out probably in the next couple weeks," Fran says. "Nate and I found a nice place, but we're just still in the application process. As soon as it's ours, we'll be moving in."
I swallow. "Alright. Well, I'll let you know by the end of next week. Is that ok?"
"Of course, babes," Elly says. "I'm not trying to pressure you, I promise."
"No, I know."
There's a tense silence until Finley's phone vibrates on the table. "Oh, it's Max," he says when he picks it up. He swipes to answer, and Max's face pops up on the screen. I can just barely see myself over Finley's shoulder. "Hey, Maxie!"
"Fin! Did they surprise you?" Max demands, pushing his glasses up his nose and crowding close to the camera. Dana is behind him, rolling her eyes.
"They did," Finley chuckles. He tilts the phone so I'm farther into view, and Max grins. "I can't believe you kept this from me. You're terrible at keeping secrets."
"I am. I'm surprised you didn't press me about all those emojis to be honest."
Something flashes across Finley's face, but it's gone before I can read it completely. "Yeah, well. Glad I didn't. It was a good surprise."
Finley's phone is passed around, and Max falls into the conversation so naturally it feels like he's actually here. He stays on the phone all the way through cleaning up, passed from person to person again. Eventually, he hangs up to go to his own Thanksgiving dinner, and everyone slowly makes their way up to their rooms with another round of hugs and thank yous from Finley.
"I should head home, love," I tell him when he gets to me.
He pouts slightly. "Are you sure?"
"Unless...you want me to stay?"
"Do you..." His eyes skitter to the ground, and my stomach sinks. "Do you want to stay?"
I pull his chin up to look him in the eyes. "Finley, do you want me to stay over?"
He swallows. "It's up to you."
I try not to react to the full body shift he's just gone through, but I think he still catches the way my face twitches. "Sure, I'll stay over. I'm going to use the bathroom. I'll meet you upstairs?"
"Ok." He smiles - genuinely, I think, but I don't know if I can tell anymore - and kisses me softly.
Elly, standing against the sink across the kitchen, watches me watch him leave. When his footsteps sound on the stairs, she looks me over. "You two haven't talked about you moving here, have you?"
"We did. Once. When Fran first told you she was moving. He just...said it was up to me." I let my eyes fall closed. "But beyond that, no. We haven't. We need to, though. It's not all up to me."
"No, it's not." She presses her lips together. "I'm sorry I brought it up earlier. Kinda ruined the mood. I've just been meaning to, and -"
"It's fine, El. You didn't know."
She gazes at the kitchen door. "You two will figure it out."
"I hope so."