Well, I cannot believe it is officially November, Thanksgiving month. I'm still working on my fanfic Beyond Routine, and hope it's getting better as it goes along.
I hope you like this story. It's based on a real experience that happened to my family, to our dad back in 2009...on Thanksgiving Day! Except that in our case, it was a four-wheeler, not a dirt bike. So, any details that seem impossible in real life, it happened! And since our dad acts a lot like Steve Sloan when it comes to being bed-ridden and when he's being moody, it seemed so perfect for this. I don't own Diagnosis Murder, but I do own my OC characters Stacy, Kat, and Annie. Story takes place between seasons 4 and 5 of DM, definitely after the episode Murder in the Family. I'm excited to share this fanfic with you. Feel free to leave a review. Oh, and guess who returns for the holiday?! If you like this story, please let me know.
It was unusually cloudy and gray for Thanksgiving Day, but the Sloan family didn't really care. For the first time in ages, they would all be able to spend the holiday together! Mark had been working too many extra shifts at the hospital for the passed month, and Norman Briggs actually demanded that he for once, should enjoy the holiday at home. Stacy and Kat were both on Thanksgiving vacation from school, and Steve had convinced one of his coworkers-who was looking for some overtime and a little extra pay-to take his place for the day at the station. Actually, his boss ordered Steve to stay home for the holiday because he was plain exhausted. 17-year-old Stacy and 15-year-old Kat had been dusting and polishing throughout the house the day before and Mark had cooked the turkey that night; Stacy had baked and decorated her turkey, leaf, and pumpkin shaped sugar cookies; Kat and Mark had worked together on the mashed potatoes, so they'd have less hassle in preparations today.
This morning had begun with a sense of anticipation in the air. Mark and the girls, along with their dog, Annie had gotten up together for breakfast, then tackled projects. They let Steve sleep in, also to keep him from getting under foot as they finished getting things ready for company. He'd been working way too hard with the grueling tasks he'd been assigned, and his family had promised to ruthlessly insure that he had lots of relaxation. By mid-morning, Steve emerged out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. The wonderful smells of cinnamon, nutmeg, and apple pie spice cooking altogether made his stomach growl hard and his mouth water. He could see that the house was mostly spik and span. Annie was sitting on the kitchen floor, eagerly keeping an eye on the oven, sniffing the scrumptious scent of pumpkin pie baking! Kat walked in with a bag of candy corn and candy pumpkins and set them on the counter. "Morning." She greeted Steve.
"Morning." Steve smiled. "What smells so good? My breakfast I hope."
"Not 'til tomorrow." Kat teased, referring to all the rich leftovers they were guaranteed to be stuck with for at least a week.
"The house looks great." Steve smiled, looking around.
"Thanks." Kat smiled. Just then, Mark and Stacy appeared.
"Morning, Steve!" Mark smiled widely at his son.
"Hey." Steve responded.
"How did you sleep?" Stacy asked.
"Pretty good, actually." Steve answered, scratching the back of his head, running his fingers through his tousled hair. "Things look nice, Dad. What else needs to be done?"
"Just the vacuuming, cleaning the bathrooms, and spraying the windows." Mark replied.
"Hmm. Maybe I can help with that. Looks like you guys have been working hard."
"Dad, it's your day off." Kat protested.
"Yeah, which means I can do anything I want. And I want to help." Steve smirked.
"Steve, we promised that you'd get lots of rest." Mark argued.
"Please." Steve rolled his eyes."You guys are making me look bad. All this party progress you've done is making me feel lazy." His family giggled.
"We also still need to make the pumpkin crunch, and I need to make my triple-layer spice pie." Stacy stated. "Plus the stuffing and green bean casserole."
"Boy, and we still asked our guests to bring food to contribute?" Steve interjected. "Dad, do you realize what all that starch, sugar, butter, and carbohydrates could do to us?" Mark chuckled.
"Steve, it's only once a year." He grinned. "We've made it this far, I don't think another splurge will kill us right off."
"Okay, you're the doctor." Steve raised his eyebrows.
Steve got dressed and his family members continued to get things ready for the family gathering tonight and shared a light lunch. Their guests were arriving at 4:30 P.M. Amanda was coming with her toddler CJ, and she was bringing the dinner rolls; Jessie was bringing himself and sodas, along with a few of their favorite games; Norman had been invited, but he was going to spend Thanksgiving with his mother. Delores was bringing sparkling white grape juice, and she had the cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, and more green bean casserole; and best of all, Jack Stewart was in town for the holiday and promised to come early! Everyone was so excited to be seeing him again. Sadly, Mark's daughter Carol Sloan-Hilton said that she couldn't make it, but she had talked with her dad, brother, and nieces on the phone, wishing them each a blessed Thanksgiving. Mark was disappointed that she wouldn't be here, but the house would still be filled to the brim with loved ones, so that helped warm the longing in his heart.
Steve smiled as he heard happy voices through the house singing. Mark had turned on a Christmas CD to get them in the mood for excitement. It reminded Steve of his wife, Julie when they were getting to know each other and he'd bring her over to his apartment or Mark's house: she could at times be found singing and dancing around the kitchen or house with Mark as they cooked or cleaned. It had been eleven years since she'd passed away, but different parts of her still lived on in Steve's two daughters, which made him proud.
It was only an hour and a half before company was supposed to arrive. Most of everything was practically ready, just the last minute things needed attention. Kat and Stacy were setting the counters and tables with the food and decorations. Steve snuck up behind them and dug his hand into the candy dish of candy corns and pumpkins. He took a large handful and smirked, dropping them into his mouth. "Dad!" The girls scolded, half-laughing.
"Hey, you know I like my candy corn." Steve smiled defensively. "It's my favorite."
"Yeah," Stacy interjected, "but don't eat all of it!"
"Anything else I can do to help?" Steve offered.
"No." Kat shook her head.
"Well, I guess I'll go take a quick shower and change into something nicer." Mark stated.
"Okay. We've got this." Kat agreed, and Mark walked out. Steve sat on the edge of the counter, snacking. He couldn't help admire how much his daughters were growing up as he watched them. To him, they were still like little girls playing house. "I need to get dressed too."
"So do I." Stacy nodded. "I can't wait for Jack to get here!"
"Me either." Kat agreed. Though he'd been living in Colorado for some time and it had been ages since they'd seen him, Jack had always felt like an older brother to the Sloan girls, especially Kat. "Uh, Dad?"
"Hmm? What did I do now?" Steve asked innocently, slipping one of Stacy's sugar cookies between his fingers.
"We, uh, kind of need the..." Kat pointed to where he was sitting, hinting that they needed the counter space.
"Oh." Steve stood up. He opened the lid on the pot of mashed potatoes sitting on the stove warming up and was about to dip his fingers in.
"Ah, ah, aha! Here, use this." Kat protested and handed him a spoon. Steve lifted a spoonful to his mouth. The girls watched him.
"Well, how are they?" Stacy asked.
"Mmm. They're good!" Steve nodded, licking the spoon.
"Doesn't need any more salt?" Kat inquired.
"No. They're perfect." Steve licked his lips.
"Good. I'm just glad that they're all done and I don't have to make anymore!" Kat exclaimed in relief. Peeling and cutting potatoes was NOT her favorite part of cooking, but that was also mostly because Stacy was allergic to potato skins. Mark had run many tests to rule out the cause, but all they could figure out was that her sinuses and fair skin were very sensitive to the dirt and raw potato skin. She could poke potatoes for baking if she washed her hands after, but peeling she couldn't handle. Her fingers would puff up, her nose would get runny, her eyes would water, and she would start wheezing. So, from now on if Mark or Steve wasn't around to assist, all potato peeling fell on Kat's shoulders and it was overwhelming especially for a holiday like this!
Steve chuckled. "At least Dad helped this time." Kat nodded, wide-eyed in agreement.
"They're delicious." Then he grabbed another cookie.
"Hey, those are for later." Stacy grinned.
"Hey, what's a good cook without taste-testers?" Steve asked with a mouthful of cookie and icing. "Mmm!" He grunted, shaking his head. "You know, you really need to hide these. They're addicting. Bad for my blood sugar."
"Well, you don't have to eat them." Kat said.
"I've got nothing better to do." Steve shrugged. "Anything else I can help with?"
"No thanks. We're good." Both girls answered. Steve was bored, and everything was just about ready for company. He had to do something to occupy himself, besides stuffing himself with all the delicious goodies in the kitchen.
"Well, guess I'll go find something to do, seeing as I'm not needed here." Steve muttered sarcastically, grabbing another cookie. "Maybe I'll take the bike for a spin." He said, starting to walk away.
"Oh, be careful!" Stacy warned, wide-eyed.
"Of what?" Steve retorted, the same way he always did.
"Just be careful." Stacy answered, the same way she always did.
"Yes, mommy." Steve smirked, rolling his eyes and grabbed another cookie.
"Dad," Stacy sighed.
"Have fun." Kat added. Steve just smiled mischievously and headed outside. The minute he shut the door behind him, the girls burst out giggling.
Steve put on his riding gear and zoomed out of the garage on his dirt bike, cheering and hollering like a wild teenage boy. He took it down on the sand, racing along the shoreline back and forth. Seeing as most of the neighbors who lived on the beach were most likely preparing for their own Thanksgiving family gatherings, there was really nobody on the beach, so Steve had free way of the sand.
Kat and Stacy heard the roar of the dirt bike down the hill on the sand and both peeked out the window. It was cloudy outside and with no pedestrians down there, it was easy to spot their father, acting like a kid. "Ohhh, be careful, Dad," Stacy gritted her teeth with worry as she watched the speed he was zooming at.
"He's fine." Kat muttered. Steve had played on the dirt bike for years, and he'd usually turned up back in one piece. Stacy and Mark just wanted to make sure it stayed that way. Steve did a few high jumps and very sharp spins.
"Eee," Stacy gulped. "Dad, watch it!"
"He's okay." Kat shook her head in annoyance. Then Steve took a few high flying jumps.
"Oh," Stacy covered her eyes with her hands, cringing. "I can't look anymore!" She sputtered dramatically, shaking her head and walked away from the French patio door. Kat just laughed and rolled her eyes.
"I think it's cool." She said casually as she watched Steve ride perched up on one tire. "Oh, he's doing a wheely," Kat said on purpose, pushing Stacy's buttons.
"How?" Stacy asked.
"Upwards," Kat grinned. "He better not fall backwards..."
"Stop!" Stacy raised her hands in the air.
"Oh, he's doing another one."
"I think I'll finish cleaning the main bathroom, then get dressed." Stacy groaned, walking away.
"Okay." Kat shrugged. "I'm gonna watch the fun." Then Steve slowed down a bit and headed back up towards the house, heading for the garage. "Aw, rats." Kat muttered. "He stopped too soon." Then she walked away from the door too.
Steve halted inside the garage, and threw off his helmet and gloves. He sat there, trying to figure out what to do next. He still had some leisure time to spare, and after all, he was on vacation. It was time to do what he wanted, and he felt like playing some more on the bike. "Why don't we take a little ride down the street, nice and slow?" he asked himself. "No tricks, I promise." Leaving the helmet and the gloves, he drove out on low speed around the block, wondering if he'd possibly spot Jack's car on the way.
Steve had almost finished his second lap around the block and was carefully driving up the street towards his house, proudly gloating over how he could brag to everyone, especially Mark, that he had taken the bike out to have some fun and had returned without a scratch. The street was smooth with no potholes. He was a house away from his residence when it happened, whatever it was! One second he was driving along slowly, and then? The bike went completely whack before Steve had time to realize what was happening and he blacked out for a few seconds.
When he opened his eyes, he saw the merged gray and white of the cloudy sky above him. He grunted in pain. "W-what...what just happened?" He asked no one in particular. He was flat on his back, lying in the grass of someone's lawn and his right leg felt like it was on fire. He tried to move his head and look around to get his bearings, but his thoughts felt foggy. His left leg was perched atop the dirt bike, which was laying on top of his right leg. From what he could barely see, thankfully, his leg wasn't on fire, but man, it hurt! And the whole right side of his body felt as if it was being roughly rubbed back and forth with sandpaper. "Ohhh," Steve groaned in pain and aggravation, rolling his eyes, "I am never gonna hear the end of this!" He winced.