Family
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A/N — for MoparGirl1, because I've been thinking about her. This one went in a different direction than planned, but I hope you enjoy. Happy Thanksgiving. xoxo — kals
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Sasha stepped inside the simple split level, allowing Eric to shut the door behind her. Instead of his uniform, he was wearing a pair of black dress pants with a button-down white shirt, covered by an orange-ish vest and a bright pink fluffy apron. Sasha immediately questioned her decision to wear brown corduroys with a black sweater, hoping that everyone else wasn't quite so dressed up. Despite having listened to Eric talk about his mother's Thanksgiving feasts for the last six months, Sasha had been somewhat surprised to find herself invited today. After all, she was still, in many ways, the "new" member of the team.
She held out the bottle of wine she managed to get for triple the pre-pandemic price. "My contribution to dinner."
Eric flushed, almost dropping the bottle on the floor, doing an excellent impression of a scared rabbit. "Thank you. I'll introduce you to my mother."
Sasha followed Eric through the house, assuming it had been assigned to Miller upon the Nathan James reaching St. Louis. She knew that the kid was originally from Iowa, but his mother must have helped set the place up while Miller was still on the Nathan James. She somehow doubted that a nineteen-year-old guy would think to hang a Norman Rockwell picture in the entry. The hallway opened into the living room where Sasha saw most of the TAC team, as well as a few other assorted faces from the Nathan James. An older woman came towards them, wiping her hands on an apron that looked identical to the one Eric was wearing, a bright smile on her face as Miller stumbled through the introduction. The resemblance between the two was plain to see, all the way down to the handwringing.
Mrs. Miller took the bottle. "Thank you, Mrs. Cooper! I'm so glad that you could join us."
Thrown by the idea of anyone calling her Mrs. Cooper, Sasha blinked. "Sasha, please."
"And you must call me Barbara," the woman replied. "Dinner should be ready in half an hour."
"I'm happy to help," Sasha offered.
Mrs. Miller, Barbara, looked aghast at the idea. "No, no, you're guests. Please go sit. Eric can get you a drink."
Sasha sat down between Wolf and Carlton, pretending not to notice Eric struggling to figure out the wine opener, regretting the impulse to bring something that neither screwed off or involved a can.
Wolf leaned forward. "Miller, is this what you call a Friendsgiving?"
"Hm?" Eric asked, still working on the bottle.
"Nah, that's when friends get together to celebrate without family," Carlton explained, jumping in.
Wolf took his time looking around the room. "And that's not what this is because..."
"This is regular Thanksgiving," Eric said, finally getting the bottle open and pouring extremely generous glasses that he passed to Alisha, Kara and Sasha. Carlton and Danny declined, but Wolf took a glass, taking a tentative sip before lifting his glass in Sasha's direction.
At least someone appreciated good wine.
"Are we going to watch a parade?" Wolf asked the room and Sasha was fairly certain that she saw Danny roll his eyes before he slid his arm around Kara's shoulders, whispering something in her ear that had the woman giggling — actually giggling. Sasha wondered if she was already sloshed. Wolf was still talking. "I heard that was tradition."
"I loved the Macy's Day Parade," Kara said, voice soft, presumably in an effort to keep from waking her son, who was sleeping on her shoulder. "I used to watch it every year with my mother. I hope that they bring the tradition back."
"Where is Debbie?" Sasha asked, glancing around. Although she had been somewhat surprised to receive an invitation herself, Sasha assumed that Debbie would have been included in the invitation extended to the Greens.
Kara smiled. "Peter is preparing the Presidential Dinner and Debbie offered to help. This is a lovely cabernet, by the way. I'm impressed that you were able to find it."
Two people who enjoyed good wine, Sasha amended. She noticed that Danny was drinking beer.
"Wait," Wolf said, forehead furrowing. "I thought that the President pardoned the turkey. He eats it?"
"He pardons one," Eric rushed to explain. "The other one goes free."
Wolf took another sip of wine and Sasha thought she glimpsed a smile cross his face, but he appeared deadpan when he looked at Eric. "Where it gets eaten by the local wildlife? Like an offering?"
"No!" Eric seemed horrified. "Where it ..."
"Lives in the stables with the chickens and never has to do anything again in its life," Alisha jumped in. Sasha wondered if that was correct or if the woman was humoring Miller. Either way, she wasn't going to ask, not when Eric seemed so relieved.
"Ah." Wolf took another drink of his wine. "I've seen pictures of Thanksgiving. I know there is turkey and mashed potatoes and vegemite ..."
"What the hell is vegemite?" Carlton asked.
"Is that not a traditional food here?" Wolf asked, and this time Sasha was sure there was a flash of amusement in his eyes.
"Nope," Danny replied, not bothering to sugar-coat the answer but Sasha could have sworn that he winked at Wolf. "Doubt Miller knows what vegemite is."
"Pity. It's seriously the most delicious food known to man," Wolf replied, eyes closing as he — presumably — recalled the food that most certainly would not be at the Miller's Thanksgiving dinner.
Eric actually looked distressed. "Sorry, Wolfman. If I knew you loved this vegestuff, I would have tried to get some. Is it like asparagus? 'Cause Mom found some of that. Oh, and she made green bean casserole. Plus, she found marshmallows for the sweet potatoes."
Danny perked up at that last. "She found marshmallows? I thought those might be gone permanently."
Wolf looked between Eric and Danny. "You put marshmallows on potatoes? On purpose?"
"Sweet potatoes," Eric corrected.
"Or yams," Kara added.
Wolf gazed around the room. "What's the difference between yams and sweet potatoes?"
There was a round of heads shaking and shrugging before Mrs. Miller — Barbara — appeared without her apron. "Time for dinner! Let's all head to the table."
Sasha hung back, waiting until Wolf stood, making sure that they were the last to leave the room. She lifted her glass, murmuring quietly enough that nobody else could hear. "Your mother was American and you've never celebrated Thanksgiving before?"
Wolf winked. "What can I say, Cooper. My boy was a nervous wreck and nothing breaks the ice better than a clueless Aussie."
Sasha blinked, before reaching out to squeeze Wolf's arm. "You're a good friend."
Wolf draped an arm around Sasha's shoulders, barking out a laugh. "Haven't you figured it out yet, Cooper? We're not just friends. We're family, and family sticks together."
As she settled into her chair, Sasha looked around the room at the faces of people who had been unknown to her a year ago and now were the most important people in her life.
Wolf was right. This was regular Thanksgiving — and she was celebrating it with family after all.