Lazaretto (Camren)

F I F T E E N

"We know what we are, but know not what we may be." –William Shakespeare

LAUREN

Thanksgiving. A holiday I always dreaded. I hated having to go home and have dinner with my family who I pretended to "be thankful" for. The only person I truly was thankful for was my father. I was thankful that he didn't fall under the wrath of my mother. I was thankful that he took me out of it before my mother had the chance to brainwash me like she had done to Val. And most of all I was thankful that my father showed me the meaning of love from a very young age, and that it was okay to be in love and be loved in return.

Once I was finished with Thanksgiving at my parent's house, I would return to the warehouse and join them for the annual bonfire. But first, I had to endure a couple of hours with the she-devil and her spawn.

"Lauren, could you help your father in the kitchen?" My mother asked while she typed away at her computer. She could never quite leave her work even when it was a family holiday. Without a word, I stood up from the couch I was sitting on. I turned off the television and tossed the remote on the cushions, walking past her open office and into the kitchen. "Thank you dear, I'll only be a minute," she said once she heard my footsteps. I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I entered the oversized kitchen to see my father stirring various pots, steam rising towards the high ceiling.

"Need any help?" I asked. Just then, I heard a timer going off. He threw a small hand towel that was draped over his shoulder in my direction. I swiftly caught the cloth in my hand.

"Take the turkey out of the oven. It should be finished," he said, never meeting my eyes. I walked over towards the oven and opened it, instantly being hit with a hot aroma that filled my nose and lungs. As much as I hated the idea of the holiday, I sure did love the food.

I carefully took the turkey out of the oven so I wouldn't burn myself. I placed the large bird down on top of the stove and closed the door with my knee. My father finished sorting the other cooked foods into bowls. I helped him cut the turkey and place the sliced pieces on a decorative plate. We both carried the hot food out to the dining table and patiently waited for my mother and Val to join us. Once they did, they didn't waste any time diving into the food. Usually families would say a prayer and what they were thankful for, but my family was anything other than traditional.

"So," my mother said in between bites. "How's Ally doing?"

I started "dating" Ally as a cover up about two years ago. I met her one day at the warehouse when we were younger, and we had been friends ever since. I used the excuse of dating her when I turned seventeen so that my parents would let me have my own place instead of staying at home. Ally was two years older than me, and my mother was beyond elated that I had found someone and agreed to it, even if it wasn't for real. Once Ally and I purchased the loft, I helped Troy escape, and he moved in with us. Troy and Ally hit it off almost immediately and started dating shortly after, but neither my mother nor my sister knew that. My father was the only one that knew, and I planned on keeping it that way.

"She's doing well," I returned, shoveling another bite in. I kept my eyes glued to my food, hoping she wouldn't push the subject. No such luck.

"Do you think you'll propose soon?" she asked as she took a sip of her red wine. I began to push the food around on my plate with my fork, not wanting to answer. My father could sense my uneasiness and spoke up.

"Don't you think she's a little young to be thinking about marriage, Clara?"

"Times have changed, dear. It's all the craze these days." She waved her hand in the air as if to dismiss his question. "Why, don't you love her?" she countered, giving the attention back to me. I took a long drink of my water before answering.