Thanksgiving is a low-key affair for 719 Corona Street. Compared to the usual sort of parties that go on there. That require, sometimes, a fucking sound barrier to keep the revelry in and the cops out.
A few dozen people cycle in and cycle out. Some stay for dinner, some spend the night. Everyone gets welcomed. There is turkey, brined in ale and sea salt someone brought back from somewhere, and these heirloom purple potatoes mashed with a ridiculous amount of milk and butter, yams whipped together with parsnips and an asparagus, potato, and goat cheese galette for the vegetarians. Stuffing both in and out of the bird, made with stale whole grain bread from Dee's deli, and sweet potato pie, and sweet potato casserole, and pumpkin pie, and pecan pie, and apple pie without any added sugar because the Granny Smith's were just that sweet, and there are bottles of red wine and bottles of white wine and bottles of pink wine and bottles of champagne. Stranahan's yes but also three kinds of Scotch for people who want to savor that, and Dan is an adventurous bartender and he makes a mean martini and so everyone drinks whatever they want and maybe a little too much of it and the folks who drink too much spend the night, or at least get cab fare home.
Dan greets everyone. Kiara and her friends. Danny. Hawksley, Grace. Hawksley knows everyone, half the derby team is here, including Emily Honey Bunches of Chokes. More people in this house know Grace than she realizes, and so she's not especially noticeable, right? but that doesn't make her invisible and more than once she gets an "Oh hey! I didn't see you there - it's been a while - " sort of thing from someone Grace herself might consider a complete stranger.
But she's partied here more than she herself might admit, and these folks aren't complete strangers so much as passing acquaintances by now.
Okay, Hawksley probably does get introduced, perhaps by Dan but it could be by Dee, to Kiara, and he gets introduced as Davie and by then he has had so much to drink that he's not going to remember or, yeah, he just doesn't care to and Kiara may not piece Hawksley together with the Hawksley about whom Sera enthused because that's not the name she's given but then look at him. Look at his profile, the way he fills a room.
Whom else could he be?
Kiara and Danny, Kiara and Grace, Grace and Danny - somehow Dan finds ways to maneuver them all together to ensure that they can shake hands, if they want, exchange names, if they want. Just be aware of each other, too, if that's all they want.
He manages that with a certain subtle aplomb that never feels forced. Laughter, warmth, conviviality. An actual up and coming glam rock star playing his guitar in the living room. Pie pie pie pie pie and enough alcohol to flood the city, or at least Cap Hill.
What more could one want from a holiday?
A few dozen people cycle in and cycle out. Some stay for dinner, some spend the night. Everyone gets welcomed. There is turkey, brined in ale and sea salt someone brought back from somewhere, and these heirloom purple potatoes mashed with a ridiculous amount of milk and butter, yams whipped together with parsnips and an asparagus, potato, and goat cheese galette for the vegetarians. Stuffing both in and out of the bird, made with stale whole grain bread from Dee's deli, and sweet potato pie, and sweet potato casserole, and pumpkin pie, and pecan pie, and apple pie without any added sugar because the Granny Smith's were just that sweet, and there are bottles of red wine and bottles of white wine and bottles of pink wine and bottles of champagne. Stranahan's yes but also three kinds of Scotch for people who want to savor that, and Dan is an adventurous bartender and he makes a mean martini and so everyone drinks whatever they want and maybe a little too much of it and the folks who drink too much spend the night, or at least get cab fare home.
Dan greets everyone. Kiara and her friends. Danny. Hawksley, Grace. Hawksley knows everyone, half the derby team is here, including Emily Honey Bunches of Chokes. More people in this house know Grace than she realizes, and so she's not especially noticeable, right? but that doesn't make her invisible and more than once she gets an "Oh hey! I didn't see you there - it's been a while - " sort of thing from someone Grace herself might consider a complete stranger.
But she's partied here more than she herself might admit, and these folks aren't complete strangers so much as passing acquaintances by now.
Okay, Hawksley probably does get introduced, perhaps by Dan but it could be by Dee, to Kiara, and he gets introduced as Davie and by then he has had so much to drink that he's not going to remember or, yeah, he just doesn't care to and Kiara may not piece Hawksley together with the Hawksley about whom Sera enthused because that's not the name she's given but then look at him. Look at his profile, the way he fills a room.
Whom else could he be?
Kiara and Danny, Kiara and Grace, Grace and Danny - somehow Dan finds ways to maneuver them all together to ensure that they can shake hands, if they want, exchange names, if they want. Just be aware of each other, too, if that's all they want.
He manages that with a certain subtle aplomb that never feels forced. Laughter, warmth, conviviality. An actual up and coming glam rock star playing his guitar in the living room. Pie pie pie pie pie and enough alcohol to flood the city, or at least Cap Hill.
What more could one want from a holiday?
But my heart is wild and my bones are steel
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula