He watches her come in with the cold, November rain, shaking out her umbrella in the entry way and shrugging out of her coat. The forecast has it predicted to turn to snow in a few hours, leaving them with a white-blanketed Thanksgiving tomorrow. She cradles a small box into her chest as she pulls her rain boots off one by one. He'd thought she'd be home from work an hour ago and finds himself wondering if the contents of that box are the culprit.
"Watcha got there?" Rick asks from his spot in one of the overstuffed chairs in the living room.
Her gaze lifts at the sound of his voice as she finger combs through the wet ends of her hair. He can hear the wind howling from in here, and by the looks of it, her umbrella wasn't much help.
"Mom's recipe box," Kate says, glancing down at it briefly. "My dad called, said I should have it for tomorrow."
"Something in particular he wants you to make?"
She sighs, carrying it with her over to the couch. "He didn't say. I think it's just because we haven't really had a real Thanksgiving since she died, you know? I usually just end up working. But this year -"
"I offered to cook all of it," he interjects. "Allow you to have your traditional holiday day at work, but someone insisted on helping me."
"There's too much for you to do all on your own," Kate protests, pulling the throw blanket draped over the back of the couch into her lap.
"Oh yes such a crowd to cook for," he smirks. "One parent each, the two of us, and a teenager."
"And I can't risk you experimenting with strange foods again," she keeps talking like he hadn't said anything.
"The truth comes out," Rick says, holding a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "You just want to babysit me."
"I don't want marshmallows in my mashed potatoes. So sue me."
"Maybe I will. I happen to know of a lawyer joining us for dinner tomorrow night."
"Get your own lawyer," she scoffs. "I have dibs on this one."
He wishes he had a pillow to throw at her playfully, but the closest one to him is currently nestled under her elbow.
"So what sort of recipes are in that thing?" he asks, nodding at the box.
She skims her fingers over the gold and red striped lid. "All of her best dishes."
His eyes widen. "Kate. Are her cookie recipes in there? Like the double chocolate peppermint one? I crave those things every Christmas."
She lifts the lid, running her index finger over the row of cards. "It should be."
"Oh man, this is so exciting! I haven't had those since -" He stops midsentence, taking note of the potentially dangerous territory he may have just entered into.
"Neither have I," she replies without looking up.
He knows how hard the holidays are for her. Knows that Thanksgiving is only the tip of the emotional iceberg. Knows that's why she chooses to work holidays instead of celebrate them without the person she misses most. He watches her pull out a card at random and watches as her eyes start to fill with tears. Instinctively, he moves to join her on the couch.
"This is ridiculous," she says, attempting a laugh as she wipes at her eyes. "I'm getting emotional over her handwriting."
"Well it's not like it's something you see every day," Rick tries, slipping an arm around her shoulders.
Kate leans into his side, holding the card up for him to see. "Her lasagna. A favorite of yours if I'm remembering correctly."
He grins, taking the card from her and glancing at the ingredients. "Ooo yes. I loved Italian Night at the Beckett house."
"I'd forgotten just how often you used to eat with us."
"Well you've met my mother," he starts, sifting through the cards to try and find the cookie recipe. "She shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a stove. There's a reason I learned how to cook, after all. And it wasn't just so I could feed my kid."
She laughs, tucking the lasagna card back among the others. "Martha means well."
"Oh yes. I'm well aware." Rick keeps flipping through the stack until he finds the cookie card he was searching for. "Aha! Am I allowed to make these?"
Kate stretches up to kiss his cheek. "She'd want you to. I'm sure of it."
"You two have certainly outdone yourselves," Martha whistles as she takes in the spread of food on the dining room table. "Are you sure you only cooked for five?"
"I was using my mother's recipe cards," Kate explains as she brings the green bean casserole to the table. "She was used to cooking for extended family at the holidays and I wasn't sure if halving them would make enough. I hope everyone likes leftovers."
"I will gladly take leftovers, Katie," Jim says, sliding out a chair at the table. "No one ever cooks for me anymore."
"I've told you that you're welcome to come eat dinner with us dozens of times, Dad."
"Yes, but you end up working such odd hours, I wouldn't know when to be here."
Kate rolls her eyes at him before stepping back into the kitchen to retrieve her wine glass.
"So, what's everyone thankful for this year?" Alexis asks, taking a seat at the table. "Besides the obvious answers."
"The laundry room," Rick shrugs, reaching to take his wine glass from Kate. She smacks his shoulder with her free hand.
"Richard, honestly," Martha says, shaking her head.
"But it's where I was reunited with Kate," he protests.
"Thank fate for that," his mother tells him. "Thanking the laundry room just sounds ridiculous."
Alexis laughs, unfurling the cloth napkin across her lap.
"I'd like to thank fate too," Jim says. "I have an excuse not to visit Aunt Theresa on the holidays anymore."
"Dad," Kate groans.
"That woman is incorrigible. And she's never liked me. Plus she's the nosiest person I've ever met. She was already complaining about how hot it's going to be at your wedding and why couldn't you have a nice April wedding, and then I just stopped listening. You had the right idea all these years, telling them murder doesn't stop for the holidays. It got you out of a lot of uncomfortable dinners."
"Ladies and gentlemen, my father," Kate sighs, shaking her head.
"I've got to say, Jim," Rick starts. "I never thought I'd see the day when you would be thankful for me."
"Yeah well it's hard for me to be a huge fan when I catch you sneaking out of my teenage daughter's room in the middle of the night."
"Dad!" Alexis exclaims, her eyes wide.
"Do me favor, don't give her any ideas," Rick groans.
"Oh don't worry. You weren't the only one who caught them," Martha says, shooting Kate a knowing look.
"Okay, new topic," Kate says, feeling her face flush red.
"What about you, Alexis? What are you thankful for this year?" Rick asks.
"Honestly? The four of you. And I know I said no obvious answers, but having Kate and Jim with us...it's a new tradition I'm becoming quite fond of."
Kate leans in closer to Rick, overdramatizing her whisper. "Oh good, she hasn't caught onto my evil stepmother bit yet."
"Oh right. Your plan to off me, steal my fortune, and ship her off to boarding school?" Rick asks, playing along.
"I think you guys have been hanging around Gram too often," Alexis groans, rolling her eyes.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Martha asks, taking offence.
"Nothing! Just that you have a tendency to be overdramatic."
Rick nudges Kate with his elbow as his mother and daughter start arguing while Jim starts to load his plate up with food.
"Glad you took off work for this?" he asks.
She smiles, nodding. "Yeah. I really am."
Rick helps Kate clear the table while Alexis and Martha pester Jim about his insistence to watch football.
"Well I think that was pretty perfect," Rick says, carrying the remnants of the turkey into the kitchen. "Well done, the future Mrs. Castle. Even if you wouldn't let me put marshmallows in the potatoes."
She picks up one of the marshmallows left on his plate and chucks it at him. "They were for the yams."
"I have an eclectic taste," he laughs.
"More like a disgusting one."
He steps behind her at the sink, wrapping his arms around her torso. "I also have a taste for you," he whispers into her ear.
"What a line," she laughs, elbowing him in the side.
"Oh you like it, don't even try to deny it."
"Apparently I do. Why else would I agree to marry you, setting myself up for a lifetime of lines like that?"
"Oh wow, really feeling the love here, Kate."
She laughs again, turning her head to kiss his cheek. "Happy Thanksgiving, babe. I promise I'm thankful for you most of all."