Me
You love me, and you know it.
I watch and wait, but no new response bubbles pop up. As is no surprise at all, the asshole stops responding after that remark. Figures. He engages in conversation, but then I say something wrong, and he suddenly shuts down.
“Gannett! Am I fixing you a plate or not?!” my mother yells to me from the kitchen.
Me
Grub’s on, so I gotta run.
I try one more time to get a response out of him, but I get nothing. Sighing, I type out one more sentiment to him, though I’m sure this, too, will go unanswered.
Me
Merry Christmas, Croot.
Sure enough, he leaves me on "read" again. I suppose a "thank you" from Gordy should be enough of a Christmas miracle. On that, I get up off the couch to go join the rest of the fam for dinner.
My parents' dining room is stuffed to the gills again this year, though, unlike last year, there are two fewer little girls. I try not to let the melancholy I feel show as I grab one of the two empty chairs between Dad and Ev. Of course, my mother doesn’t miss a thing…
She leans out around Dad. “How’d their Christmas with the Babcocks go?”
“Good, I guess. Nothing like watching them open presents whileSteven Stephensgets to film it all. I still can’t tell if his Christmas sweater isintentionallyugly or not…”
Colton snorts. “For real? That’s the new dude’s name?”
“That’s whatI’msayin’! And get this, his middle name isLeopold…”
Taryn and Colton both cackle in unison. “They did him dirty. Man, his parents must hate him.” Taryn says.
“Mhm,” I hum. “But guess whose parentsdon’thate him…”
“Sarah’s, but don’t let that get you down. Those highfalutin parents of hers alwaysdidrub me the wrong way,” Ma scoffs. “Speaking of Sarah, when is she bringing the girls back?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
She nods. “Good. They’ll get a chance to have Christmas here with Nanna and Gramps.”
“If it’s not an overstep, we don’t have to get back right away. We can stick around so that Tati and Terra can experience all this,” Brooks offers, gesturing around the table. No surprise there, my daughters love their Uncle B, because he just has this way with kids—must be a camp counselor thing. Whenever he and Evan come around, I lose another precious chunk of time with my girls.
“Gosh, no. Never think of yourselves as impositions,” Ma huffs at Brooks. “I always tell you to stay as long as you want.”
Tally gasps and squeals, clapping her hands together on Ev’s lap. “T-T! Yay!”
Evan smiles down at her. “Yes, baby girl, the T amigos.”
“As long as there’s leftovers, count me in too!” Morgan snickers. “These mashed potatoes are thebest, Vickie,” she tells my mom.
Petro, Colton’s boyfriend, nods. “Agreed,” he says, after swallowing a mouthful. “Do you have a five-gallon bucket we can bring some of these home with? This is about the only thing I’ve eaten lately that hasn’t made me nauseous.”
Colton then nudges him and gives him a look that I can’t quite interpret, but it almost looks as if he just mouthednot yetto Petro. Odd.
Before anyone can interrogate my nephew about that, however, Lizzy pipes up, “Hey now, Morgan! What aboutmymashed potatoes?!”
Morgan shrugs. “Sorry Mimi, I don’t know what she puts in these, but they beat yours.”
Lizzy turns to Ma, “Would you be willing to share that confidential information with me, or is it a secret family recipe? I get the feeling these would far surpass the ones I currently serve.”
