There’s something beautiful about the casinos from the outside, but when we walk inside we’re hit with that familiar haze of smoke that, for me, will always smell like Christmas Eve. Once you’re inside, there’s something so disorienting about the lack of windows, which makes you forget whether it’s day or night.
Mom is waiting for us at the entrance to the buffet. She wears her uniform of black cigarette pants, a white tuxedo shirt, and a black vest with a red-and-green-plaid bow tie for the holidays. Her hair is done up in a high ponytailthat makes her look too young, and dangling from her ears are Christmas tree earrings made of little pom-poms. She waves us over, past the security guard.
Mom goes for Hattie’s belly first, petting and cooing at it. “Baby,” she says. “Look at you and that tummy. You look almost as big as I was when I was full term with you.”
Hattie sighs. “Merry Christmas, Mama.”
“And this must be the proud papa!” says my mom as she makes her way to Tyler. “You ready to have your life flipped on its ear?”
Tyler, who has so perfectly crafted the I-don’t-give-a-shit face, is as white as a sheet. “Uh, yes, ma’am.”
There’s not a lot I admire about my mother, but her newfound ability to turn Tyler into a nervous little boy might be her most redeeming quality.
And then there’s me. “Hi, Mom.”
She takes my hand and then takes the hand of an unsuspecting Freddie. “And who is this?”
“Freddie Floaties,” Hattie pipes up.
My mom squints. “Well, I haven’t seen you since you were a little tyke hiding behind your grandmama’s legs.”
“It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Leroux.”
My mom winks at him. “Let’s get some grub.”
Mom loves when we visit her at the casino. This is her in her natural element—in a place where she is more than the woman who lives in a one-room apartment and got pregnant too young and left her family when they needed her the most. And even better, we brought more people for her to show off her kingdom to.
She leads us to a U-shaped booth at the buffet before we all split up to fill our plates.
Freddie stays close to me, and we both opt for fried chicken and mac and cheese. Tyler piles his plate high with crab legs, and Hattie goes for the mashed potato bar and shrimp cocktail. Mom waits in line at the carving station for ham and all the traditional fixings.
We reconvene in our giant booth, where Tyler has started in on his plate before anyone else could even sit down. I’m not saying there’s a good way to eat crab legs, but I am saying there is a bad way, and Tyler seems to have mastered it. He cracks and slurps and cracks and slurps and cracks and slurps, and it is turning into the most annoying song I’ll never be able to get out of my head.
“So have y’all thought about what’s happening once the baby comes this spring?”
Tyler freezes mid-chew with a fresh crab leg in his hand.
Hattie reaches under the table for his hand. “Yep, we’ve been making a few plans, right, babe?”
Tyler nods and swallows. “Sure.”
“Have you really?” I ask. Foot in mouth. I can taste it.
Hattie narrows her eyes at me. “As a matter of fact, we have.”
“So where’s the baby going?” asks my mom. “Y’all know your dad’s trailer is only so big. It’s not some clown car that you can keep squeezing more people into.”
Well, she has a point there.
Freddie clears his throat, and I try to tell him sorry with a side-eye glance.
“Not that it’s any of y’all’s business,” Hattie says as she dunks a shrimp in cocktail sauce. “But the baby is going wherever it is that we’re going.”
“And where is that?” I ask. I should really shut up. But the frustration I’ve felt since the moment Tyler moved into our house has begun to boil, and there’s no going back now.
Beneath the table, Freddie touches my thigh, and I pull away in annoyance at his attempt to reel me in.
“We don’t have to have it all figured out right now,” Hattie bites back.
