It's another #writerwednesday and with Thanksgiving tomorrow, some of us may be dreading the drama that comes with it. Not the dried turkey, the cake that fell, or the stuffing with eggshells in it. Nope, I'm talking about the family drama that comes with that one specific person, or several persons.
Today, Christina is facing the same issues. It's the dinner before Thanksgiving dinner and drama is about to kick off in her family. Will things ever be the same, and will they make it to Thanksgiving dinner? Read on...
“Ma…would you love us no matter what we’ve done?”
“Yeah, baby…you know I would. Why, what have you done this time?” she asked in a half teasing manner and half serious, because she knew her oldest child well.
“I haven’t done anything,” Christina modestly replied, placing her hand on her chest to emphasize the word “I.”
“So what are you saying…is this about your sister and her Hispanic boyfriend again?”
“Nope…Ma, I’m actually being serious here. Chloe is bringing Javier and Drew may bring company, as well. All I’m saying, Ma, is sometimes we talk among ourselves and we don’t tell you everything. I think we all want to be open and free to be who we are with you…but we don’t wanna be lectured, or made to feel guilty, we just wanna be loved for who we are.”
“Girl, what is you talking about, say what you gon’ say or leave it be,” Beverly replied.
“Ma, I’m just asking that whatever comes up could you please be on your best behavior?” she pleaded with her mother as the doorbell rang.
Before her mother had a chance to quiz her again, Christina had slipped out the kitchen and ran to open the front door to her Aunt June and Uncle Snookie. Uncle Snookie already had a few sips in him coming in the door, and he was looking for more as he bee-lined to the bar in the den. Christina barely got a hello in to him as he passed her up. She exchanged a knowing glance and laugh with her Aunt June.
“Hey girl, how’s my favorite niece?” Aunt June asked, giving Christina a hug and a peck on the cheek. And Christina knew she truly meant it. Aunt June was Christina’s mother’s oldest sister. Christina’s mother, Beverly, had often compared her child to her own sister June, saying that with the two of them, whatever came up, came out.
“I’m doing good, Auntie June,” Christina replied.
“Where’s your mom?” she asked, balancing a platter in one hand and holding her clutch purse in the other hand.
“In the kitchen waiting for this delicious caramel cake you baked,” Christina said, pointing to the platter in her aunt’s hand. “I think she may need your help, too,” Christina replied.
“Okay, honey, you go keep your Uncle Snookie from getting too sauced. I don’t know what I’m going to do about him on Thanksgiving when the entire family comes. You know he don’t much like my family,” June warned.
“Alright,” she halfheartedly replied. Aunt June made this speech every holiday. Everyone in the family knew Uncle Snookie was a drunk, and everyone knew he didn’t like the family, except Christina. She had always been his favorite.
Christina had her eye on the window watching her Cousin Marla’s car pull up. She got out after her three bad ass kids poured out and then her husband grabbed the baby from the car seat. Just before they reached the door, Christina slipped out, greeting everybody and pulling Marla and her husband Bernard to the side away from the children who were headed in.
“Y’all gon’ in, we’ll be there in a minute,” Marla told the kids. “Hey girl,” Marla said pulling her cousin into an embrace.
“Hey ‘cuz…whassup?” Christina greeted.
“Nothing much, girl, just keeping these bad ass kids in line. Is daddy in there drunk yet?” Marla asked, nodding her head at her parents’ car parked in front of hers.
“Girl, you already know,” Christina replied.
“Is he coming?” Marla asked, referring to Andrew.
“Yeah, but he still hasn’t said if he’s bringing Matthew or not,” Christina said uneasily to her cousin.
“I don’t think y’all got too much to worry about, I think y’all making a mountain out of a mole hill. If Aunt Bev does find out or if he says anything, I doubt she’ll make a scene. She might check the hell out of him later for telling her in front of everyone, but she won’t make a scene,” Bernard interjected.
“Mmm I don’t know, Bernard…Mama has been known to make a scene in her days. Even though she has chilled out in her older years, especially after Dad passed; I don’t know if she can handle this,” Christina said with a distant look in her eyes, thinking about her dad.
“I think y’all should give her more credit than that. I think she knows, I’m telling y’all,” Bernard advised. “If she doesn’t already know, I think the worst thing for her is to find out that everyone else knew and nobody warned her. Now if that shit hits the fan, I hate it for y’all. And please don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” he said with a chuckle.
“Boy, pullleeezz, yo’ ass is grass, too, if she finds out you knew,” Christina warned, crossing her arms across her breasts and cocking her head to the side looking at him with attitude.
“Yeah, Mr., you ain’t out this shit; don’t start talking about how you told us this or that, ‘cuz Aunt Bev ain’t gonna wanna hear any of it. If you knew, you shoulda told her, that’s how she’ll see it and she don’t give a damn if you was the mailman, you knew and she didn’t; that’s all that matters to her,” Marla said, checking her husband.
They went into the house to help get dinner on the table. Chloe and Javier showed up about ten minutes later and introductions were made all around. Christina was really nice and behaved herself until she crossed paths with her sister alone. With a gleam in her eye she looked at Chloe and whispered in her ear, “Yo tequiero, Javier,” and walked away, laughing and switching her hips.
They were situating the kids around the little table when her brother came through the front door. “Hey everybody, is it time to eat, ‘cuz I’m hungry,” Andrew announced.
“There goes Thanksgiving,” Marla whispered to Christina, implying that after this dinner the family wouldn’t be gathering for their annual Thanksgiving feast this year.
Christina shook her head at her cousin as they exchanged knowing glances, but said a quiet prayer in her heart that her brother would behave and her mother would be forgiving.
Beverly came from the kitchen taking off her apron to see if there was a special guest her son had brought to dinner. It wouldn’t be a problem, because she always cooked more than enough. Andrew never brought anyone to dinner, but had told his mother he may bring someone this Sunday, but never called back to confirm. She knew that the girl must be special. He always had many women friends, but never appeared ready to settle down with anyone. So this one must be serious if he had brought her…him to dinner, Beverly corrected herself as she came to a halt in the living room.
Her handsome son stood five-foot, ten-inches, caramel brown in color. His thick bushy eyebrows and long lashes graced playful eyes with mirth dancing behind them just like his father’s. His long nose and slightly flattened nostrils had come from her side of the family, but that crooked smile with slight dimples was definitely his father’s. But that was where the resemblance ended. Andrew’s build was muscular but he was never a big man like his father had been. He wore his hair cut low and his hairline was beginning to recede. Light hair covered his face in a sprinkling of what could be considered a mustache and beard. His bowed legs the doctor had told her were a result of her carrying him on her hip all those years, but she hadn’t paid it any attention.
Beverly loved her son, but she was disappointed to see that once again he had not brought a woman to dinner. She was hoping he would marry and settle down soon and produce some grandkids…one of her children needed to at least. Andrew had brought some boy with him that was extremely good-looking. Oh Lord, she thought, I hope he is not trying to set Christina up with another one of his friends. She reflected on how disastrous the last one had turned out…the poor guy wasn’t even speaking to Andrew anymore. She found herself smiling a little, thinking about that devilish daughter of hers.
Christina walked up behind her mother and caught her first glimpse of Matthew, whom her brother had told her a lot about. He just had not stated how good looking he was. Damn, the brother was fine. He looked like a football player type and recent college grad. She sure as hell would love to jump those bones; if anyone could make him straight it had to be her, she thought. Why so many fine ass men gotta be gay, on lockdown, or full of shit? she wondered.
Matt was about six-foot, three-inches with very broad shoulders and a chest straining to break through his crème colored, long-sleeve button down shirt with grey flecks. His head was one big muscle looking like he could tear something out the frame. His wide nostrils flared and made her think of an angry bull as they sat high and proud over thick, full, luscious lips. She imagined several things he could do with those lips and they all included her. He had no facial hair adding to his youthful but thuggish looks.
Taking off his coat and rolling up his sleeves she glimpsed massive arms with a sprinkling of hair on the arms and backs of his hands. This chocolate cocoa brown brother was fine. His jeans sagged a little, but couldn’t hide his tight, high butt, massive thighs, or that bulge straining at the zipper. She found herself almost drooling, literally…until she remembered he was there for her brother. Damn, she said again.
Women's fiction author and blogger, Chelle Ramsey brings a refreshing perspective into the lives of her readers and wants them to find entertainment, healing and inspiration in each novel. Using real problems and challenges faced by ordinary people, Chelle wants readers to become empowered to rise above life's adversities, with faith in God, and belief in themselves.
Her stories are relatable to individuals of diverse demographics, who have suffered a loss, been hurt, have low self-esteem, have lost hope, or need a word of encouragement. She strives to take your emotions on a roller coaster ride, one page at a time. Chelle holds an MBA in Human Resource Management, which she puts to use in her Human Resources role by day, while she writes her fiction novels at night. And in her spare time, she’s a blogger, freelance writer, and ghostwriter.
Her most important roles are those of a wife and mother of three. During her “me time,” she becomes enraptured with the enthralling stories of Terry McMillan, Nora Roberts, James Patterson and Stuart Woods. Chelle Ramsey resides in a rural community in Atlanta, Georgia and enjoys writing, family time, and watching NBA games.
She hosts the annual 20 Days of Love authors’ blogging campaign, March Madness authors’ giveaways campaign, and showcases other authors on her blog at www.chelleramsey.com/beautifully-inspired-blog. Her novels can be found online at Chelle Ramsey Amazon.
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