“Sweetie, you don’t look too well,” my mom says, always being the observant one. “You should have called and told us.”
Yeah, and if I had, she would have driven into the city. She’d probably run over several people doing so and get a ticket for some reason just to see what was plaguing her baby girl.
“I’m fine, Mom, really.” I wait for it, and yes, she puts her hand to my forehead and frowns.
“Not really warm, but maybe I should have your dad get the thermometer.”
“Really, Mom, I’m fine.”
“She’s hung over,” my awesome grandma says from behind her daughter.
“What? Are you?” My mom looks at me like I’m two and not twenty-two.
“Okay, so we went to Papa’s last night and I may have had a glass too much,” I admit, because I know I’m busted and it’s time to own up.
“See, I knew I was right,” Grandma says smugly, her arms crossed. I hate when she’s right.
“When was anybody going to let me know Dora and Jeff arrived?” The regal voice of Grandmother makes me want to crawl into my bed in my old room. I will get the regal glare when she finds out about my night of drunkenness, and receive the lecture that if I had attended finishing school, this wouldn’t have happened.
Yeah, right.
“Aha.”
They just arrived, Mother,” my dad speaks up, and I realize I didn’t even know he was here.
“I should have been informed. Hello, Dora and Jeffrey,” she says, reaching over and giving us air kisses on our cheeks.
“Time to eat.” My mom breaks up the awkward moment and we file like good little boys and girls into the dining room.
Minutes later, we’re joined by Taylor and Bridget, the latter looking disappointed by the absence of certain trio.
“Sorry, Bridg, the guys aren’t coming.”
“Oh nuts,” she quips as she plops down in her seat.
Thank goodness dinner is a quiet affair, as everyone seems preoccupied. I eat a little, but mainly just end up pushing my food around the plate since I still feel a little nauseous. Jeff’s thigh nudges mine every once in a while, and I completely ignore him. Yep, I’m still annoyed.
“We need a head count for Christmas Day,” Mom announces after she serves up a chocolate mousse pie for desert, which is my favorite, but not right now. No worries, though. I know I’ll be going home with a doggie bag.
“Can I be excused?” Bridget and Taylor chorus.
My mom nods her head, and they scramble to leave the room to escape the adults. Damn, I feel so old. I want to scramble off too.
“For Christmas it should be the eight of us, and Jeffrey, will you be joining us this year?” Grandmother asks in her proper tone.
“I would love to, if it’s okay. My dad and mom are off to visit my sister in New Zealand to see the new baby.” Jeffrey’s family is spread out all over the world, but he rarely travels. He is always welcome at our family functions.
“Well, that makes nine so far then.” My mom looks at me. “How about your roommates, Dora?”
“I don’t think they’ll be here for the holidays.”
“It would be nice if you would ask them,” my Grandmother states.
“Okay. Julie and Kevin will be here for most of the day, so I guess that makes eleven.”
“Good, then we’ll open gifts during the day.” My mom is the greatest gift giver. She always buys stuff no one would re-gift, hide in a closet, or re-sell online. Each gift is thoughtfully bought and something we need or want.
I so want to leave now. My head is pounding again, and I’ve lost track of the conversation. I wonder what Colin is doing? He’s probably spending the afternoon with some hot, long-legged beauty who completely complements him. I need to put him out of my mind.
“I don’t think that’s acceptable for a Christmas table.” My Grandmother’s stern voice penetrates my musings.
“There’s that stick again. You need to lighten up and enjoy life.”
Yep, that’s Grandma. I must be missing a fight.
“I’ve never heard of a ‘turducken,’ and I have no desire to see it on the table. It sounds hideous,” Grandmother fires back.
Turducken, what the heck is that?
Grandma shakes a finger at her adversary. “It’s delicious, and I say we put it to a vote. I’m tired of roast beef every year.”
I look around and notice that my mom, dad and granddad have fled the room. Only Jeff and I are left with the two warriors. This could get very bloody, and I don’t want to get in the middle. I grab Jeff’s hand and we slowly make our way out of the room and into the kitchen, where I know the rest are hiding. Neither woman notices us leaving as they do the famous Bannister-Phillips stare down.
The three previous escapees are standing in the kitchen. My mom is drinking something amber in a glass. My dad is patting my granddad on the back, probably because he knows if Grandma loses, it won’t be a happy place when they get home.
“I say we’re going to have a turducken, and if you don’t like it, well, then just stay home and eat your roast beef.”
“Next you’ll want us to eat alligator or something equally bizarre.” Grandmother’s voice is now an octave higher.
“I’ve heard it tastes just like chicken!”
I watch Granddad grab Mom’s glass and take a big gulp. It causes him to cough violently while my dad thumps his back. Oh, lord … just what my headache needs.
“I’m going in,” my mom pipes up. She stands, taking another long drink from the glass.
Dad shakes his head. “Honey, do you think that’s wise?”
“Wise or not, I’m so tired of this bullshit. Yes, I said it. Bullshit. We deal with this almost every Sunday and somebody has to take the bull by the balls and stop them.”
Holy fried fish with bones removed, my mom is serious. She pulls her head up and her shoulders back before slowly leaving the room. We cowards follow her. Did she just say take the bull by the balls?
“I love your family. We really should videotape this. Just think of all the millions of hits we would get online.” Jeff’s voice is full of laughter. I elbow him in the stomach and go through the doorway that my mom went through.
“You two. Cease and desist.” Her voice is loud, louder than I’ve heard in a long time. In fact, the last time it was this loud was when—oh, look … they’re listening to her.
“I’m tired of you two always at odds with each other. It happens every Sunday. We’re going to solve this. We’ll have turducken and roast beef and that’s that. Not another word.”
Mom marches out of the room and up the stairs, with everyone—even Taylor and Bridget from over the balcony—watching her.
“See what you did?” Grandma whispers across the table.
“It wasn’t my fault. You’re the one who started this whole mess.”
“I can hear you both from up here. Not another word,” Mom shouts from the top of the stairs and then she disappears as we hear a door slam shut.
“Hope you’re both proud of yourselves,” Granddad says. “I’m sick of this little feud you two have too, and I think if you can’t play nice, both of you should stay home. Dora, make sure your grandma gets home safely. I’m leaving.” He kisses my cheek and then grabs his coat from the hallway closet before exiting the house.
Wow. Both grandmothers are speechless, as are all of us. Granddad has never spoken like that—ever. Good for you, Granddad.
After going upstairs and giving Mom a kiss goodbye and assuring her that everything was fine downstairs and nobody hated her, Jeff and I say bye to my dad and the speechless grand matriarchs before heading out ourselves.
No, we didn’t forget Grandma. Shockingly, Grandmother said she would take her home. Things in this house never fail to surprise me.