“Call Sabitha.” With my Bluetooth connected to my rental car, I explain my latest idea to my lead developer. We chat for a while but when the roads grow slick, I have to hang up. My back tires lose their grip, I slide all over the road, and by the time I reach South Burlington, my cotton turtleneck is soaked with sweat.
Heaving out a deep breath, I pull into the driveway, switch off the ignition, and uncurl my white knuckles from the steering wheel.
Finally, my heartbeat returns to normal, I slip into my coat, and knock on my sister’s door.
“Aunty Danni!” Beth, my four-year old-niece, squeals.
I lean in for a big hug and a sticky kiss. My sister Mandy laughs and allows my reaching nephew to scoot into my arms.
“Holy cow. Let me look at you.” I tickle the toddler’s plump tummy and he giggles.
Georgie gets his curly dark hair and his good nature from his dad, Derrick, who exits the kitchen wiping his hands on a dishtowel. A software designer for one of the world’s largest companies, he understands me better than anyone in my family. Smiling, he extricates his son so I can remove my coat.
“Glad you made it.” He kisses my cheek as I kick off my boots and reach into my purse for slipper-socks.
“When is it supposed to stop snowing?” I glance out their front window, wondering if I’ll be able to leave by end of day. If not, cyanide might be my only option.
“Sometime this afternoon.” He hangs my jacket in a closet and asks, “Coffee?”
“Oh God, yes.” I follow them into the newly renovated granite-stainless-steel kitchen. Nothing but the best for my sister.
“How’s the app coming?” He, unlike Mandy, always shows an interest in my career.
“Great. I should have a beta version up and running in a couple weeks.”
“I envy you. Has anyone approached you to buy it?”
“Yeah, but they low-balled me. You know how it is.” I don’t mention how critical this next release is. If I don’t make the money people happy, I’ll be serving fries at Mickey Dees.
My sister sets down a cringe-worthy, politically incorrect, linen tablecloth filled with Pilgrims, turkeys and Native Americans. “No work-talk on Thanksgiving.”
Heaven forbid I’m allowed to mention any of my professional successes. Still, it’s her house so I shut the hell up.
Hoping to avoid World War III, Derrick puts a finger to his lips, removes a cup of boiling water from the microwave, adds instant coffee, and places it in front of me. The tea-Nazi misses his treasonous activities because she’s retrieving a crumb cake, baked to perfection, from under a Tupperware hood.
“So, what can I do?” Filled with sugar and caffeine, I’m ready to report for duty.
“Nothing, really. We got this. You just relax.” My sister’s tone is so condescending, even a four-year-old can sense the putdown.
“C’mon Aunt Danni. You can help me.” Beth grabs my hand, leads me to her bedroom, and I consider sororicide by turkey.
While my niece and I play tea party with her stuffed animals, I picture what it might be like to have a little girl with Cole’s dark lashes and a baby boy, too. My maternal musings scatter as a car honks in the driveway.
“Hey, let’s go see who’s here.” I’ll reprimand my subconscious, later.Cole as my baby-daddy? No way.
The outside door opens and a cold breeze greets us as we walk down the stairs.
“Hey sis. How’s it going?” Taking off his boots, my brother Paul, kisses me on the cheek.
“Great. Where’s Joe?” I glance around the room but his husband is nowhere to be seen.
“Working. He couldn’t get the day off but he’ll be here for Christmas. It’s our fifth anniversary.”
“Congrats.”
“And you? Have you found anyone interesting?” He means well but damn, he hasn’t even sat down.
Donning a tight smile, I help my grandmother remove her things, and seat her in a corner lounge chair before answering. “You know how it is. It’s slim pickings in the city.”
