CHAPTER FOURTEEN
thanks for the memories.
season two, episode nine.

THANKSGIVING WAS IN FULL SWING, AS WERE CASSIE'S DRINKING HABITS. While she didn't celebrate the holiday, any excuse to get drunk was a good enough reason for her to be in a good mood. Besides, with Izzie in full festive mode, Cassie knew she didn't want to be sober.

While Cassie finished her third shot of tequila that morning, Meredith descended the stairs, tiptoeing as quietly at possible.

"Mer!" Cassie grinned widely, gesturing to the nearly empty bottle of liquor. "Come drink with me!"

"Can't, sorry," she rushed out, before being stopped by a frowning Izzie.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

The doorbell rang as Cassie took her fourth shot.

"Uh, answering the door," Meredith responded sheepishly.

"She's going to the hospital," Cassie said loudly, pointing at her bag and causing Izzie to glare at the woman in question.

"Yes, but after—"

"Meredith, everyone is supposed to be in the kitchen by 9am to help me make dinner. It's Thanksgiving!"

Meredith sighed, "I'm really not in the mood."

"But it's a family—" Izzie started before she was interrupted by the doorbell again.

"Doorbell." Meredith made her way over to the door, opening it to see three men standing there with smiles on their faces.

"Is this where Georgie lives?" the oldest one asked.

"Georgie?"

Cassie giggled, drawing attention to herself. "Hey, I call him that too!"

"Where is he, upstairs?"

"Oh, George. Yeah."

Pushing past the girls without warning, the men raced through the living room and up the stairs, tripping over each other and chanting as they went. "O'Malley! O'Malley! O'Malley!"

"Yeah, O'Malley!" Cassie repeated, her fist pumping in the air.

Izzie turned to Meredith. "Should I call the police?" She turned her gaze back up to the stairs, causing Meredith to take the opportunity to sneak out of the house.

"Have fun Mer, I love you!"

"Have fun?" Izzie scoffed, shouting after her as she got into her car. "Meredith, I'm serious! You need to back here for dinner at 6! I mean it!"

Shrugging, Cassie made her way into the kitchen to eat breakfast. Izzie followed a few minutes later with a frown on her face.

"Where's Georgie?"

"He left with his family," Izzie huffed. "So, I guess just you and me."

"Yay!" Cassie grinned, throwing her arms up in the air.

"Cassie?"

"Mhm?" she mumbled, stuffing her mouth with lucky charms.

"Are you like, sick or something?" Izzie narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"What makes you think I'm sick?"

"Well, for starters, you're all smiley. It's weird. You're not at the hospital, which I assumed you would be, since you're always at the hospital. But most of all, you're excited to spend the day cooking, with me, so I just assumed that you're dying or something."

Before she could respond, Cassie dropped her spoon onto the ground and moved to pick it up, knocking over her half eaten bowl of cereal in the process. "Oops," she laughed, stumbling over to the paper towels in an attempt to clean up her mess.

"You're actually drunk?" Izzie rolled her eyes, irritated. "It's barely ten in the morning."

"What can I say," she slurred with a slight shrug. "I hate Thanksgiving."

☆

As the doorbell rang for the second time, Izzie opened it to see Cristina standing with an odd expression. Cassie stood behind Izzie with a droopy smile, which hadn't seemed to leave her face all morning.

"It's half past 10! You're late! I've had to do everything—" Izzie began, before cutting herself off as she saw Burke appear. "Oh, hi, Dr. Burke. Hello."

She moved to the side so Cristina and Burke could enter. As Cristina stepped past Izzie, the blonde grabbed her arm and began whisper shouting in her ear.

"Hi, Dr. Burke," Cassie waved.

"Harper," he nodded in greeting. He nearly said something else, but Cristina's voice cut him off.

"What was I supposed to do? Blow off my boyfriend for Thanksgiving? I tried to. He wouldn't blow. He's like something sticky that won't blow off."

"Okay, he's gonna ruin Thanksgiving," Izzie replied, "What am I supposed to talk to Dr. Burke about?"

"People who are shocked when I show up uninvited to their homes call me Preston," he spoke up passive aggressively, making Cassie stifle a laugh.

Cristina shook her head. "Nobody calls you Preston."

"You don't call me Preston."

As Burke went to look around the house, Izzie hurriedly dialed a number on her phone.

"Cass, why is it so quiet in here?" Cristina wondered.

"Mer went to the hospital, and Georgie is shooting innocent animals with his family."

"Georgie?" she scoffed. "So it's just me, you, Izzie, and—" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "—Preston?"

"And Alex when he shows up," Izzie added, hanging up the phone as it went to voicemail.

Cristina rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, great."

Cassie startled the others by jumping and throwing her arm around Cristina's shoulders. "It's gonna be fun!"

Cristina stared at her person as if she were an alien. "What happened to you?" She looked at Izzie. "Did you drug her or something?"

"Tequila," Cassie whispered in her ear, though it came out at a comically loud volume.

Burke sniffed the air, frowning. "Is something burning?"

Izzie's eyes widened as she sprinted back to the kitchen. "Crap!"

☆

"What is that?" Burke questioned with a strange look, peering into a pan coated in a chunky red substance. Cassie followed his gaze, cringing at the sight.

Izzie sighed, "It was supposed to be my marinade." Speaking into the phone again, she mumbled, "Alex, it's me again. Just wondering where you're at."

"You've never made a Thanksgiving dinner before," Burke asked, though it sounds like more of a statement. Izzie nodded sadly.

Cristina slammed her hand down on the table, starling the group. "You can't cook?! Izzie!"

"I'm a baker!" Izzie defended. "I bake. But I've seen my grandmother cook a million times."

"Cass! You can cook, right?" Cristina asked the brunette hopefully.

"Yeah, but I don't think I should be handling sharp objects at the moment."

"Okay, that's it. If there's no food I'm going home."

"Me too," Cassie nodded, pausing as she went to stand. "Wait, no, I'm already home. Damn."

"Cristina, Cristina, I have this," Burke assured her. "What are you using as a reference text?"

"The Joy of Cooking. I also printed up some recipes from the internet but they all seem to contradict one another. And I can't figure out which side of the turkey is up and which is the bottom."

"Okay, okay. Um, I'm gonna need the basing brush, a bowl, uh, a clove of garlic, and do you have any fennel?"

"Uh yeah, right here."

"Okay, well let's get this turkey up and running Stevens. Garlic." He holds out his hand, basically performing food surgery, which makes Cassie laugh to herself.

"Garlic."

"I'm gonna need liquor. Lots and lots of liquor," Cristina mumbled.

☆

"Where's the alcohol, Cass?" Cristina groaned, clutching her shoulders. "I cannot do this without alcohol, I just can't."

"Well, most of it's in there," Cassie giggled, pointing to her slightly bloated stomach.

"I'm serious," she deadpanned. "I know you have a secret stash."

"I did, but then I drank it all, so now it's gone."

"I love you, but I hate you," Cristina glared, going back to the kitchen on the search for booze as there was a knock at the door. Before Cassie was able to move, Cristina rushed forward and slammed it open.

"Joe!"

"Happy Thanksgiving!" he smiled, glancing at the man to his left who Cassie had never seen before.

"Oh, thank god!" Cristina exclaimed, pushing past Cassie as she dragged them inside, making her stumble.

"This is my boyfriend, Walter."

Cassie drunkenly smiled. "Hey Walter."

Cristina waved him off before he could respond. "Whatever. Tell me you brought liquor."

"I brought pie. Pumpkin."

Cassie grinned. "Ooh, pie!"

"But you're a bartender!"

Joe looked at her funny. "Did you bring scalpels?"

"Yeah actually," Cassie nodded absentmindedly, glancing to her bag filed with medical equipment.

☆

Back in the kitchen, Joe, Walter, Cristina, and Cassie were having a blast watching Burke and Izzie perform turkey surgery.

"Now, what should you be concerned about?" Burke questioned.

"Um—"

"The turkey, Stevens. I expect you to know that."

Izzie nodded. "Right. I need to check the turkey to see if it's cooking at the correct temperature."

"And how do we do that?"

"Meat thermometer."

Cassie laughed to herself, mumbling under her breath. "Meat thermometer."

"10 bucks says she dries out the turkey," Joe waged.

"20 says she pulls it off," Walter shook his head.

Cassie raised a brow. "30 says they drop the turkey on the floor."

Cristina rolled her eyes at them. "75 says I don't care."

"Don't be bitter," Cassie nudged her.

"Okay Stevens, let's see what you can do," Burke said, bringing their attention back onto the turkey. "All right. More pressure. Turkey has a tough shell. Dig in."

Izzie smiled as she pushed the thermometer in further. "I'm in."

"Damn she got it in," Joe sighed.

Walter nodded. "Told you she was going to pull it off."

"They could still drop it," Cassie added, before lowering her voice to a whisper as an evil smirk took over her features. "I could make them drop it."

Burke checked Izzie's work. "Good, not bad. Now all you have to do is get the thermometer deep enough to get a temp. But be careful not to—"

"Oops!"

"You hit the bone. The pan is filling with juice and you're losing moisture. What do you do?"

"Uh... um..." Izzie panicked.

"Think!"

Cristina grabbed her stuff and stood up, not finding the situation amusing. "That's it. I'm out of here."

☆

After Cristina left, Burke checked the turkey in the oven as Izzie and Cassie came back into the kitchen.

"Joe and Walter have got the table set up in the living room. How's our bird?"

Burke sighed. "He needs a few more hours. Why did you plan this big dinner if you knew you couldn't cook?"

Izzie shrugged awkwardly. "I just like Thanksgiving, Dr. Burke."

"Preston," he corrected her.

"Preston."

"You just like Thanksgiving?"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality?"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality."

"Okay," she sighed. "We work 18 hours a day, 6 days a week, 50 weeks a year. We don't really have any time for our families. We don't have friends that aren't doctors, but we have this one day, where we don't have to cut anyone open. One day where we get to be like everybody else. One day to be normal. A day where nobody lives and nobody dies on our watch. It's like a gift. So I just thought we should appreciate it. That's all." She grabbed the plates on the counter and shrugged. "Gotta set the table."

Burke nodded as she left and turned to Cassie. "What about you?"

She thought for a moment before she replied. "I don't know. I used to love Thanksgiving. I'd spend it with my mom and Derek's family back in New York."

"And now?"

"And now, my mom is dead, Derek is spending today with Addison, and I'm in Seattle. It's just different without family, I guess."

"I understand."

"Not to mention the fact that the real story of Thanksgiving is super messed up."

He raised a brow, "Care to elaborate?"

"Well, when the Pilgrims came to Plymouth Rock, they were poor and hungry, and half of them died within a few months from disease and hunger. When Squanto, a native Wampanoag man, found them, they were in a really bad state. He spoke English, having traveled to Europe. The Pilgrim's English crops had failed, and he took pity on them. The native people fed them through the winter and taught them how to grow their food. To the Pilgrims, the Wampanoags were heathens, and of the Devil. They saw Squanto not as an equal, but as an instrument their God sent only to help them. Before 20 years passed, European disease and treachery had decimated the entirety of Wampanoag civilization. So basically, celebrating the holiday means celebrating a fucked up group of colonizers."

Burke stared at her for a long moment.

"Well," he paused. "I can see how that may influence your opinion."

Cassie laughed at his shocked state, standing up to help set up the dishes.

☆

Izzie sat at the head of the table, with Burke on the other end and Cassie directly in the middle. Joe and Walter walked in, apologetic looks on their faces.

"Sorry, Izzie it's after 8. Gotta get to the bar."

Izzie groaned loudly. "On Thanksgiving?"

"It's one of our busiest days of the year. People need a safe haven from the bitterness, loneliness, quality family time. I'm their important store. See you later?"

"Yeah," she sighed

Joe looked at Burke and Cassie with a smile. "Night, doc. Night, genius."

"Night, Joe," they chorused.

"Bye Walter," Cassie added, sending the man a wave.

Izzie waved as well, albeit less enthusiastic. "Bye Walter. Thanks for coming." Turning to Burke as the door closed, she added, "You can leave too, if you want."

He shook his head. "I'm not leaving the table until the hostess does."

"They're not coming."

"Even so."

"Yeah, we can have dinner by ourselves," Cassie reassured her, much more sober than before (still drunk, but less so).

Izzie gave them a grateful look, just as the sound of the key turning the door lock caught their attention. George and Cristina sheepishly entered the house and walked to the table, avoiding eye contact. Cristina sat near Burke, as George sat across from Cassie.

"Today," he whispered to Izzie. "I committed bird murder and was forced to touch my dad's ass. I get extra points for showing up at all."

Cristina took out a bottle of wine. "I brought booze."

"Ooh, gimme," Cassie grinned, taking the bottle from her hands.

"Let's just eat."