what now? | outerbanks

• thirty •

JJ

"Hey, can you pass me the salt?" Kie calls from over the dining table, and Sarah, having to stand up a little to do so, hands her the rooster-shaped salt shaker.
After salting her food, Kie places her hand down to grab her fork, but before she can complete her movements, I intercede and take hold of her hand, kissing it.
"Let's say Grace," I suggest, keeping her hand in mine and grabbing Cleo's in the other. The others take a hint and hold hands in a circular motion, waiting for me to begin the simple prayer.
My father was never religious, and I didn't grow up going to church, but having faith was the only thing that kept me alive in my father's house. I didn't pray, feeling unheard and uncared for by a God who was supposed to keep me safe, but the thought was always in the back of my mind, and I never stopped believing.
I say a short, thankful prayer to kick off our dinner, and John B. is quick to dive into his plate when my mouth mutters a final amen.
    "Thanks, J," Sarah hums, and I nod at her in response. Cleo picks her glass up, takes a big swig of her drink, and then places it down with a loud clink, looking around to let us know she has something to say.
    "Floor's yours, babe," Pope tells her.
    "So, I've been trying to form plans for Thanksgiving, but I can't do it all on my own. Anyone have any ideas?" She sits back a little in her chair, crossing her legs.
    "Wait, when's Thanksgiving?" I ask nervously, not realizing the nearness of the occasion.
    "JJ it's literally in a week. How do you not know this?" Kie's entire face scrunches, looking at me with utmost confusion before shaking her head rapidly and going back to her plate.
   
    It's been three weeks since Sarah and John B's wedding, and now we're well into November. Business has been slow, the waters and winds being too cold for most fishermen's taste. Crabbing has been plentiful, though, so we've been catching and selling to restaurants for an extra buck. Pope and Cleo have been staying at his parents' more and more, and I don't blame him, understanding how nice it is to have alone time every now and again.

    "Don't kill me, but I could try to invite Rafe. He might agree." Sarah offers, her lips pulling into a tight line as she furrows her brows ever-so-slightly. I shoot her a glare, a silent understanding of distaste strung around the table. "I get it, but you know he's been doing really well, and it's only right to invite him. Especially with Sofia and Wheezie."
    "Sure," Kie mutters under her breath, getting up from the table to refill her cup. I try to follow her eyes, but they're trained too definitely on the ground, and I know from her outburst that she's already dreading a Thanksgiving spent with me and her ex.
    "I, for one, think that's a great idea. Very kind of you, Sarah." Pope's voice is honeyed and sweet amongst my girlfriend's attitude, and his smile is nothing short of enchanting.
    "Thanks, Popey."
    "And I can invite my parents; I'm sure they'd love to be included."
    "Oh yeah, gotta have Momma Heyward's mac and cheese or I'm not showing up," I joke, pointing a finger at Pope, my eyebrows raised high on my forehead.
    "You could say that again," says John B, and when he looks around the table in laughter, I see his eye get caught on Sarah who sits directly next to him. He whispers something in her ear, and as she uninterestedly pokes at the food on her plate, she whispers something back, her mouth forming a sweet, but obviously fabricated smile.
    I wait a few minutes for Kie to come back to the table, but when I realize she's lingering in the kitchen, I get up from my seat to find her.
    "Something up?" I ask quietly when I find her, trying to keep our conversation out of the other room. She leans her back against the kitchen counter, facing me and running her hands down her face.
    "Yeah, no, I'm fine, I just don't love the idea of spending Thanksgiving with Rafe, really." She crosses her arms, and her face tugs into a frown.
"I know, baby, but he's Sarah's brother, and we can't avoid him forever." I put out my arms for her, and she walks into them, wrapping hers around my body in a hug. "I would totally suggest another option, but we don't really know anyone else," I tell her, kissing her curly, sun-bleached hair. She steps back for a second, and the pensive look on her face is clear as she chooses her words carefully.
"I could try talking to my parents," she says shyly, obviously nervous for my reaction. "My mom's texted me a few times recently, but I haven't had the gut to answer. I think I should go over there, just me, and sort things out. Start it all fresh."
"Look, if that's really what you want, I'll support you all the way." I'd be lying if I said this was an easy choice, but I know mending their relationship will make her happier, and that's all that matters to me.
"Are you sure? I know how you feel about them."
"They're your parents. You deserve to be happy with them." Kie's once-frown lightens slightly into a smile. I know she still isn't completely there, but it's enough for now. She leans forward and kisses me, and then holds my hand as we walk back into the sunlit dining room.
"Everything good?" John B. asks me somewhat discreetly, and I shoot him a thumbs up. The two of us, despite our abrupt leave, flow seamlessly back into the conversation, laughs and jokes bringing us into the present.