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November 24th, 1994.
Beard grew up in a house, not a home.
He was the youngest of six, his oldest brother twelve years his senior. He always felt his siblings raised him better than his parents ever tried to.
His father wasn’t very present for most of his life. Sometimes, he would come home and stay for a couple of weeks before leaving again for months. When he was home, however, it got louder. Scarier.
Beard was only thirteen years old the last time his father was home.
His mother tried her best—he knew that—but raising six children alone was too much for her. As the youngest, Beard often felt she left that responsibility behind and expected his older siblings to take care of him. But they were kids who grew up in the same broken home, trying their best to manage school and work while caring for their baby brother.
So, Beard found comfort in knowledge. He grew to love books, and reading became his refuge. As he got older, he spent more and more time at the library.
That lasted until he was old enough to go to college. After graduating high school, he worked multiple jobs for about a year until he had saved enough money to move to Kansas. Wichita State University had offered him a great scholarship, and it was close enough to Peoria for emergencies but far enough away to give him an excuse not to visit unless absolutely necessary.
The truth was, he had never celebrated Thanksgiving, so when Ted asked if he was going home for Thanksgiving dinner with his family, he didn’t think it was a big deal when he said no. But apparently, Thanksgiving was a huge deal to Ted. As was any other holiday.
It was Ted’s third Thanksgiving since his father passed, and his extended family had gone on a trip that Dottie couldn’t afford. Ted thought it would be a great idea to have Beard over, so it wouldn’t just be him and his mom, and so Beard would have someone to celebrate with.
Now, Beard sat at Ted’s kitchen table, filled with delicious food—far too much for just three people—as Ted went on and on about everything he was thankful for: the food, his house, his mom, his friends, football, and more.
“What about you, Beardo? What are you thankful for?” Dottie asked, a warm smile on her face.
“Uhh, I don’t know. I’m thankful for this food, I’m thankful for my friends, and um… I’m thankful that I was invited to join you for Thanksgiving.”
Ted and Dottie looked at him, expecting him to keep going, but Beard only stared back in silence.
“Is that it?” Ted asked, surprised that Beard had only named three things when he’d been listing things he was thankful for for the past ten minutes.
“That’s it.”
“Okay,” Dottie said after a few moments, “those are all great things to be thankful for!”
Beard smiled at her, and they continued talking, laughing, and enjoying the food she’d prepared.
After they were done, Ted and Beard helped Dottie clean up, putting away the leftovers they knew they’d be eating for the next week.
As Ted got ready for bed, he heard a knock on the door.
“Come in!”
“Ted? I lied earlier,” Beard said, leaning on the doorway of Ted’s room.
“What do you mean?”
“When I said what I was thankful for, you asked if that was it. It wasn’t.”
“Okay,” Ted nodded, “d’ya wanna tell me what you’re thankful for?”
“You.”
“Huh?”
“I’m thankful for you.”
“Oh, come on,” Ted blushed softly, smiling at Beard.
“It’s true. It’s the first time I’ve ever sat down and had a proper Thanksgiving dinner, and it was thanks to you. I could go on about all the ways you’ve made this past year better, but it would take way too long. So just—thank you.”
“Thank you too, that’s very sweet of you,” he said as his smile got wider, “anything else you’re thankful for?”
“I’m thankful that, for the first time in my life, I have someone to be thankful for. Not just something.”
“And I’m thankful that you’re here.”
Beard walked up to Ted and hugged him, a warm embrace that made him feel all fuzzy inside as Ted held him close and let him melt in his arms. They stayed there for a little while, relishing each other’s company.
“I love you, Ted.”
“I love you too, Willis,” he whispered, releasing him gently. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”