Knight

30

Mason Maloney

The tension in the house on Thanksgiving morning was palpable. Nathan was obviously already in game-mode, blocking everyone out as he maneuvered through the kitchen to get himself some breakfast. His red football bag was laying on the floor next to the kitchen table, a clear sign that he would be leaving at any moment.

My father glanced at Nathan, taking a sip of coffee. He didn't say anything to him, he knew better. We all did. Nathan was going to be in a mood until after the game today, unless he lost. Then he would be in a mood for God knows how long.

My mother sent Nathan a concerned look. She hated when he was like this, taking himself too seriously. She thought he stressed himself out too much, and I couldn't help but agree with her.

Nathan shoved a piece of toast along with the rest of his eggs down his throat as he leaned against the counter, holding his plate only inches from his face. I sipped on my coffee, watching him closely. Once he finished his breakfast, he looked at each of us with a hard expression before walking over to where his bag was on the floor and slinging it over his shoulder.

"I'm heading to the field," Nathan said, standing in the kitchen doorway.

Mom nodded. "Okay. Good luck sweetie. You'll do great." Her voice was soothing, but her words did little to help Nathan as he gave her a tight, close-lipped smile.

"Good luck, Nathan, not that you need it," Dad said with a smirk, taking another sip of his coffee.

Nathan let out a breathy laugh. "Thanks."

I stood up and followed Nathan as he walked out of the kitchen and through the living room to get to the front door.

"Can I help you?" he asked in annoyance.

"Just wanted to tell you to not psyche yourself out," I admitted, leaning against the door after he opened it.

Nathan rolled his eyes. "I'm fine."

"Whatever," I said. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Nathan replied, standing out on the porch. "Do Mom and Dad know you're going to your man's house for Thanksgiving?"

I had told Nathan the night before that I would need him to cover for me while I went to my man's house in the evening. While I would still be having Thanksgiving dinner with my family, I knew my parents would skeptical about me going somewhere else for the rest of the night. So, I told Nathan what I would be doing, without the specifics, and he agreed to go along with what ever story I came up with.

"They think I'm going to Pete's," I told him quietly, turning around to make sure our parents weren't listening in.

"Okay," Nathan responded with a sigh. "I gotta go."

I told Nathan "good luck" one last time before he descended the porch steps and made his way out to our car. I closed the door and headed back to the kitchen where my mother was beginning to prepare food for our early dinner.

We were usually the ones to host dinner, but the people who came every year varied. This year it was just going to be us, along with my mother's brother, my aunt, and my three cousins.

"Mase, are you still going to bake something?" Mom asked when I entered the kitchen.

"I was just going to do a quick pie," I told her, making my way to her side at the stove.

"Mmm," Dad hummed. "What kind of pie?"

"Apple-cranberry," I answered, turning my head to look at my father. He nodded in approval, downing the rest of his coffee.