Angels Like You

Thanksgiving

"It's about time you get up!" Hunter exclaimed as I padded into the kitchen Thanksgiving morning. I ran a hand over my face, trying to comprehend the mess he had made in the Gomez's kitchen. "I need another set of hands! The fucking turkey was still frozen when I took it out, so since it's small, I decided to try to microwave it. Then fucking blood ran all over the place and everything is just a mess!"

I stared at him. There were restaurants that sold pre-made Thanksgiving dinners. He should have just ordered one instead of working himself to deal. My mom just bought the fancier TV dinners with the turkey lunch meat, some boxed stuffing, frozen vegetables of some kind, and, if we had extra cash, a premade pie. I would have just been happy with cold pizza. From the exasperated look on his face, I knew that wasn't the right thing to say. Especially while he was holding a wicked-looking knife in one hand and an onion in the other.

"I think I need a cigarette," I mumbled instead. I turned and was out of the kitchen before his hand clasped my bare shoulder and spun me around. "Hey!"

"If you want to eat, you're helping," Hunter said as he shoved me into the kitchen.

"I think I'll just starve," I said before I turned and tried to duck around him, but his cold, onion-smelling hand on my chest stopped me.

"I saved your ass from juvie. You can help me cook," he said. There was no way I could argue with that logic.

He tossed me his discarded hoodie from the back of a stool at the bar before he turned back to the stove. As I pulled it on, he started cursing at whatever he was boiling.

I hovered behind him. "The fuck is that?"

"Potatoes."

I arched an eyebrow. "More like mush."

"Less mashing," he replied as he turned off the stove. "Please clean out the microwave. I've seen your cooking abilities."

"My abilities," I said as I grabbed the disinfectant from under the sink and a wad of paper towels, "seem to not be far beneath yours."

"We always went to my grandparents," Hunter said as he drained the water off the potatoes. I sprayed a hefty amount of disinfectant into the microwave and waited for it to soak up some of the blood. "But they live in Oregon and my parents didn't want me to go there by myself."

"And leave me to fend for myself," I added. I carefully placed the paper towels into the microwave and added more as they soaked up the liquids.

"Well...you would have had to go to your dad's and we all know how that would have ended," he said with a sigh. He dumped the potatoes into a mixing bowl and pulled out a hand mixer. "My grandparents aren't able, financially, to come here. Grandma sent some treats for us to eat. At least those will be edible. Hell...she'd probably have sent an entire meal if she could have figured out how for cheap."

I grabbed a plastic bag, dodging him as he stepped back to plug the cord in. I didn't respond as he started the mixer and I dumped the paper towels into the bag. Most of the mess was cleaned up by the time he turned off the mixer.

"My mom," I told him as I ran one last paper towel around the microwave to make sure nothing was left behind. I was good at destroying evidence. "My mom would just treat it like a normal day. Same with Christmas. She'd get us something small, but there wasn't enough money to pay the bills let alone pay for Christmas presents for nine."

"And you were too busy getting high to help out financially?" he asked as he poured milk and butter into the potatoes and stirred them. I washed my hands and leaned against the counter, wiping them off, before I responded.