Cold Turkey
“I know you were surprised, Bri, but I hope you’re happy,” Justin broached the subject. “Was everything OK?”
“Yeah, I’m happy,” Brian responded. “Everything was better than OK. The turkey was exceptional. I never tasted anything like it before. Is it OK to ask why it was so different? I did like it though so don’t take that question as a criticism.”
“Like you would ever criticize me,” Justin laughed. “Never happen, Brian. But the turkey was prepared Polynesian style. You don’t get very much Polynesian style turkey in Pittsburgh so it was probably the first time you ever tasted it, but I thought you’d like it.”
“And I did like it,” Brian reasserted, “But since you don’t often get Polynesian turkey around here, I might just wonder how you tasted it, and how you’d know I’d like it, and, even more interestingly, how you learned to cook it. I don’t think Debbie or Vic is an expert in Polynesian cuisine.”
“There’s this kid at school, Mike Murphy,” Justin enlightened him. “He’s Polynesian and I ate it once over at his place. I liked it so I thought I’d want to prepare it for you.”
“Mike Murphy is Polynesian?” Brian conjectured. “I wonder what nationality Brian Kinney might be. Could he be Polynesian too?”
“He could easily be if his mother was Polynesian like Mrs. Murphy is,” Justin grinned. “Or at least half Polynesian like Mike is.”
“I’ll bet Mrs. Murphy is the one who cooked up that delicious turkey then,” Brian jibed. “An amateur couldn’t have done it up so perfectly.”
“Wrong, Kinney,” Justin moped good-naturedly. “Justin Taylor is no amateur in the kitchen, let me remind you. Now I will admit Mike was here when I did it, but I cooked it all myself and I can do it again too whenever you want me to.”
“Sometime soon,” Brian responded, “And maybe we can have the whole gang over. They’ll be impressed and now that you’ve tried it out on me….”
“I didn’t try it out on you, Bri,” Justin maintained stoically. “I prepared it for you. I know how you like us to have a private Thanksgiving dinner – just the two of us – and you’ve always tried to arrange that….”
“With mixed results,” Brian interrupted the kid back, grinning at him. “So you decided to do it right.”
“Oh no, Bri,” Justin assured him. “I wasn’t trying to take that pleasure away from you. I just wanted to do a Thanksgiving dinner here in the loft for just us two. You told me to save Sunday through Tuesday of next week and I did. I figured you had some kind of surprise in mind, and I felt sure it involved a Thanksgiving dinner too. I have those days reserved for you and I want us to do whatever you have in mind. I really do.”
“So you can see how much better your plan was than mine, I guess?” Brian conjectured.
“Brian Kinney is getting paranoid,” Justin laughed. “It won’t work, BK. I know you too well. You enjoyed that dinner and I knew it all along. You’re real happy and proud of me too. I know you, you know.”
“Yeah, I guess you do,” Brian admitted. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have ever asked me if I liked the Polynesian turkey. I think I know you pretty well too, Baby.”
Justin did not respond and the conversation tailed off for a while. The guys just sat there happily in contented silence. They both knew the conversation was not over. It could have been that they were plotting strategies but probably not.
Finally, Brian revived the discussion. “I don’t think I can top your dinner, Sweetheart,” he opened, “So maybe I’ll just cancel my plans for next week. After all, we had our little private Thanksgiving dinner already.”
“So one little private Thanksgiving dinner is enough for you, eh?” Justin came back. “There was a time when you’d have wanted more than that. I still think a second private Thanksgiving dinner would be a great idea, so I guess I love you more than you love me.”
“No you don’t,” Brian responded, “But I’m sure you like to argue with me more than you love me.”
“You are crazy, Brian,” Justin laughed. “You know darn well I like to argue with you because I love you. I don’t like to argue with anybody else and I don’t love anybody else either – at least not the way I love you.”
“You, Justin Taylor,” Brian mused, “Are a very peculiar person.”
“Not ‘peculiar,’ Bri,” Justin corrected him. “The word you’re looking for is ‘special.’”
“That too,” Brian smiled. “But I don’t want to compete with your excellent dinner,” Brian answered, “So I think I’ll cancel the Las Vegas trip.”
“The Las Vegas trip?” Justin stammered. “What Las Vegas trip?”
“I thought we’d fly out to Vegas on Sunday and back on Tuesday,” Brian elaborated, “And maybe have our Thanksgiving dinner on the Strip somewhere. But we don’t need to bother now.”
“It’s no bother at all, Brian,” Justin decided. “It will be a great trip. I think we should go. You think up the greatest things for us to do.”
“Well I guess we could still go,” Brian suggested, “If you really want to. Maybe we could find Polynesian turkey on the menu somewhere out there if you want to.”
“Cut it out, Kinney,” Justin stopped him. “I have decided to quit arguing with you. If you decide on Polynesian style turkey out there, that’s what we’ll have. It won’t be as good as mine though. You’ll see”
“I’ll let you pick out what kind of turkey we eat,” Brian told him. “Now did you just say you’re going to quit arguing with me. I bet you won’t be able to do it. I’m not even sure I want you to do it.”
“Well then I’ll leave the whole thing up to you, Bri,” Justin replied. “Just tell me when you want me to quit arguing with you and I’ll quit completely. Cold turkey.”
“Cold turkey?” Brian echoed.
“Yeah, cold turkey,” Justin answered. “Don’t you think I can do it – cold turkey?”
“No,” Brian laughed at him. “I really think you can do it. Two sandwiches, please – tomato and lettuce.
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