Dad crossed his arms. “You really need to quit saying His name in vain, sweetie.”
“Mommy, what are they doing?” Nikki asked, pointing at us.
“Er…,” Ember stuttered.
Nikki and Beth stared at her with wide innocent eyes.
“Wrestling,” my mom interjected easily.
“Oh.” Beth blinked, also pointing. “Is that how Elizabeth got that bruise on her neck?”
Nikki’s mouth opened in a wide “O” and she said hurriedly, “That must be how mommy got hers on vacation.” Beth dropped her arm, and they both looked up at Ember. Nikki continued, “Were you wrestling with Grigori when you got yours?”
Ember’s mouth dropped and her cheeks pinked. She glanced at Grigori, who was also decidedly uncomfortable…I couldn’t believe it…with flushing cheeks. He cleared his throat, running his hands through his hair, and then nodded to the girls. “Yes. She got it while we were wrestling.”
Both girls scowled, crossing their arms.
Grigori froze like an ambush was coming.
Beth declared heatedly, “We never saw your bruise.”
Daniil chuckled under me.
I quickly pulled my hands out from under his shirt and got off him, straightening my ponytail and shirt.
Both little girls were ready to pummel Grigori.
Daniil stood and moved to speak quietly with Kirill.
Grigori cleared his throat, moving an arm up really slow. He hesitated with it half up in the air when Nikki took a step closer to him, his other hand instantly going to his crotch protectively. He glanced at Ember, who was now looking entertained by this, and he sighed, lifting his hand up the rest of the way and pulling his gray t-shirt’s collar to the side. Between his neck and shoulder was a fresh hickey. It was how my first one had appeared, with tiny teeth marks around it, but smaller…Ember size.
I bit my cheek to keep from laughing.
The girls oohed and awed over it, even giving each other high fives. Nikki cheered, “Mommy’s lasted longer. She beat him.”
Beth nodded, giving her mom a thumbs up. “Good job, Mommy.”
Ember was positively tickled, her shoulders shaking. “Thanks, pumpkin.”
Daniil clapped his hands. “And on that high note, let’s eat.”
Staring down at my meatloaf, macaroni, and fries, I debated my options. I wasn’t sure which to start with first. My fork hovered over one, and then the other, pretty much going in a circle around my plate slowly. But…sniffing the air…my gaze shot to the right. There was…mmm… something good. I could smell it.
Standing, I walked down to the end of the table, taking delicate, covert sniffs until I stopped in front of my mom’s plate. I stared. Oh! She had green bean casserole on her plate. My gaze went to my dad’s plate. He had some, too. A quick, thorough scan of the table didn’t show that sitting in the middle.
I stood there like a zombie. I stared at my mom and dad’s plates. Considering the situation. Dad must have brought that home with him from church. Something left over from any given event there during the evenings. And since he hadn’t put it out for then there must not be enough for everyone. It would be rude…
I pointed. “Can I have that?”
Fuck rude. The FOOD WAS SINGING TO ME.
I suddenly realized how quiet the room had gotten since I wasn’t lost in my own thoughts. I wasn’t sure how long they had been silent. I did know they were probably all staring at me, so I turned my back to the table, whispering to my parents, “The green bean casserole. Can I have it?”
My mom’s mouth pinched and her chin started quivering, but she nodded. “Go get your plate, sweetie. I’ll put it on there.” She reached over, lowering my dad’s hand where I stared since he had a bite paused right in front of his mouth…of the green bean casserole. Nowmygreen bean casserole.
I gulped and nodded, walking back clear across the table. I kept my eyes averted from everyone and grabbed my plate, and quickly walked back over to my parents. I turned my back on the frigging silent table again as Mom scooped out both of their portions onto my plate, and I pointed when she missed some on hers. Her body started quivering, but she scraped her plate and added the little bit to mine.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, my eyes glued to my plate as I walked back over to my seat. I don’t remember my mom saying you’re welcome because the green bean casserole was singing a soulful tune. It was sayingMine! All mine!And God, it smelled and looked great.
