Option one. Walk out the front door, then down the block, call an Uber and maybe they won’t notice I ran away.
Felt a little cowardly.
Option two. Go back into the family room, throw a glass of wine in E.G.’s face, tell him he was being an asshole and then leave.
Felt a little reckless. He was, after all, my boss. Rent was due in a week.
Option three. Fake a migraine.
It was a socially acceptable move, but they would see right through me. And the truth was, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Ignore him.
Clearly, he was in a mood, and I knew his moods better than most people.
He was making some kind of point. Putting on a show for his family, maybe.
He hadn’t done it at lunch yesterday, but this was today. In his home. On Thanksgiving, when he’d never really invited me. That had all been his mom’s doing. He’d made me think it was no big deal, my coming. But maybe he’d been more bothered by it than he let on.
Okay, I could do this. I could handle surly E.G. All I had to do was treat him like I would at the office. Just absorb the blows like they didn’t really hurt.
I splashed some cold water on my cheeks, buttoned up the third button on my shirt dress, and headed back into battle with my chin held high.
We were halfwaythrough the turkey and stuffing when my worst fear was realized.
“Anna, where are your parents this year?” Jackie asked me casually, as everyone had plates in front of them they were digging into. “Back in New Jersey? Flying during the holidays can be a nightmare.”
I smiled back. Flirted with the idea of just agreeing with her. Or maybe changing the subject entirely.
“Flowers doesn’t have parents. She’s an honest to God orphan.”
I glared at E.G. across the long island. For the most part, he’d limited his rudeness to me and had focused instead on stuffing his face. But this? Now? When he knew how uncomfortable I was about the subject?
“What happened to letting me decide if I was going to answer those questions?” I asked him.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You were making too big a deal out of it,” he said offhandedly.
I could feel the tension build and had to put a stop to it. It was their family holiday and I wasn’t about to turn it into a drama.
I smiled casually and looked at Jackie. “He’s right. I make too big a deal out of it. But it’s all good now.”
Come on, Jackie. Work with me. I can see you want to hug me, but please DO NOT!
She seemed to take my cue. “More green bean casserole?”
“Yes, please. It’s so good. Those little onion crunchy things on top are amazing.”
“Don’t believe her, Mom. Flowers is lying,” E.G. said, and then smirked at me over his wine glass. “She doesn’t like vegetables.”
ASSHOLE!
I kept this to myself.
“I normally don’t, but this dish does a really good job of making me think I’m not eating vegetables. The entire dinner has been awesome actually. Thank you so much for having me.”
“Yeah,” Rebecca quipped. “We can tell you’re having a great time. Thanks, Grant.”
“What did I do?” he asked.
