Woa

(Kayla, 1988)

I suspected that somewhere, out there, there were Thanksgiving dinners like this. We laughed, savored the food, and enjoyed one another's company without tension as thick as lumpy gravy.

Cheyenne was on the other side of the pool, and Nikki had wondered off somewhere. Jeff nodded his head, saying hi.

"Scallion pancake?" Robin asked Fred.

"Why not?"

I started to explain my nutty friend and her traditions but Fred didn't seem to care. He piled his plate high and ate heartily. Tom reached under the table and squeezed my knee. My whole insides were flooded with light. I felt warm and astonishingly calm. I ate seconds of everything without once worrying that my satin shirt might pull at it's buttons. Thanksgiving came only once a year, after all.

As candles flickered atop the pool, paper lanterns swayed in the breeze, and garlic and ginger infused the air, I felt happier i've felt in a long time. It wasn't Tom or Cheyenne or Thanksgiving. It was more than that.

"Cheyenne?"

A man in a policeman's uniform stood behind me. Instantly, i panicked.

"Yes?" I said, weakly. "She's right over there, beside the pool." Heart pounding, i stood up and led the officer around the pool to Cheyenne. Her face darkened as he got closer.

"What happened?" she asked abruptly.

Quietly, he answered, "There's been an accident. Your boyfriend. He's okay, but he's in the hospital."

"My boyfriend?"

Cheyenne and I both spun around to look for Nikki. Another surge of panic rushed through my body. Where was Nikki?

"He must be in the bathroom," I blurted out.

The police officer placed his hand gently on Cheyenne's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said.

Cheyenne swung into action. "Kayla, get Tom and meet me at the gate."

In a daze, I did what i was told. I never said a word to Fred or Jeff, just followed Tom to the front gate where we silently waited for Cheyenne to pull the car around.

Nobody could speak. We were too stunned, too hurt, to form any words at all.

"I didn't want anyone smelling beer on my breath," Nikki explained drunkenly, from his bed at Birch Falls General Hospital. "I was going to order extra onions."

Nikki had left Thanksgiving dinner to drive to the only liquor store in town and buy a case of beer. He'd sat there, in the liquor store parking lot, chugging one can after the other.

Then, to cover his tracks, he'd headed for the McDonald's to order a burger, extra onions. Only he was too drunk to drive. Nikki's fender rammed the corner of McDonald's converted railroad car, knocking it off it's foundation.Thankfully, McDonald's was closed for the holiday. No one was there but Nikki. He broke his nose. The fire chief told us they found him passed out at the wheel.

"Why, Nikki?" Cheyenne asked him at the hospital.

It was a question we all wanted answered. He'd been doing so well. But Nikki didn't say anything. He hung his head and sat there, like a zombie.

♥♥♥

Nikki's accident made the local news that night and the front page of the paper the next morning. The newspaper photograph was too mortifying for words. Nikki was handcuffed and dazed, his nose bloody. Two uniformed police officers stood on either side of him. The caption read:

Fries with that? Motley Crue's own Nikki Sixx slams into McDonald's Restaurant.

"Your drivers license is suspended for six months," he said. "You'll pay restitution to McDonald's and go straight to the rehab center."

Cheyenne raised her hand.

"Yes?" the judge asked, looking annoyed.

"I was wondering, your honor, if you could order the two of us into counseling?"

Nikki stamped his foot.

The judge rolled his eyes. "I can't force you into anything, Ms. Kavan. But i will strongly suggest it to your boyfriend's rehab counselor."

Nikki exploded. "Mistrial!"

The judge narrowed his eyes at Nikki. "Next case." The judge's gavel came down hard.

On the way home, Cheyenne came down hard, too. "You are going to pull yourself together, Nikki, if it kills us!" Then she asked, "Kayla. Tom. Are you hungry?"

Tom and I exchanged glances, but said nothing.