by Emma Woods
And, to be honest, once Rosa had dropped me off and all the groceries were on the kitchen table, I disregarded my aunt’s advice completely. I became a whirling dervish, tearing around the house. I did loads of laundry, picked up and tidied things that weren’t technically out of place but might come across as messy, mopped the floors, washed the windows, cleaned the grout in the bathroom shower with a toothbrush, and worried the entire time.
I’d decided to make up the pumpkin pies today and the apple pies tomorrow. So, after wearing myself out all morning with cleaning, I pulled out my baking supplies and started mixing the dough for the pie crusts in mid-afternoon. If I made all the dough today, tomorrow would be much easier.
Nothing worked out well. I just couldn’t keep the rolling pin floured correctly and the dough wouldn’t roll out flat. I had to toss out an entire bowl full of pumpkin pie filling when I realized, too late, that I’d grabbed cayenne pepper instead of nutmeg from the spice rack. The cooking time seemed to be off, too. What should have taken an hour, didn’t. The first pie came out with its middle still runny and it needed another half-hour before it was right.
Matt had texted, offering to bring Gus home at the end of his shift. I’d accepted, thrilled to have one fewer chore on my to-do list. But when they arrived, I was an emotional mess.
The door opened and the two men came in, talking and laughing. This unreasonably annoyed me. When I looked up and saw that they hadn’t taken off their shoes at the door, tracking in mostly-imaginary mud, I snapped.
“You have got to be kidding me!” I growled. “Gus, go back to the door and take your shoes off! I’ve already mopped the floor once. I don’t have time to do it again!” I directed the words at Gus but also threw an angry glare at Matt.
“Why are you yelling, Corinne?” Gus admonished me. “Our shoes aren’t dirty. We’ve been at the coffee shop all day.”
Matt, I was glad to see, had already retreated and was presumably removing his shoes. It should have helped me answer my brother more calmly. It didn’t.
“I don’t care where they’ve been! I have a million things to do before everyone arrives tomorrow to tell me how bad I am at life. The least you can do is not make a bigger mess!” I slapped the table angrily, hit the end of a spoon which was sitting in the mostly-empty bowl of pumpkin mix, and sent it flying.
There I was, all the fight draining away, splattered with pumpkin pie mix, trying not to cry. Matt returned and took it all in. His mouth formed a silent o and he quietly suggested to Gus that he go up to Bumblebee House to watch TV. My brother escaped all too gladly, and I began to mop myself up, feeling small and idiotic.
Without a word, Matt returned and reached for the roll of paper towels. Down on one knee, he mopped up the floor carefully. I looked down at this enormous man who was lovingly tidying up the mess I’d made during my tantrum and burst into exhausted tears.
My sniffling drew his eye and Matt finished his work on the floor, threw away the mess, and put an arm around me.
“Come and have a seat,” he urged me. “I’ll bet you haven’t taken a break in a long time.”
He was right. I realized that I hadn’t even stopped for lunch and my stomach was growling. Maybe I could blame my bad temper on that.
I sank onto the couch and dropped my head back wearily. Matt eased down next to me as though he was afraid I might attack.
“What have you been doing all day?” he asked in a would-be conversational tone.
I sniffled and ran down the list of chores I’d accomplished.
“You did all that today? Geez. No wonder you’re tired. Can you take the rest of the night off so you’re ready for tomorrow?”
“No!” I burst into a fresh round of tears. “I still have pies to finish and I promised Rosa I’d write out the place cards and make the centerpieces. We have to have them ready first thing tomorrow so we can get the tables set up.”
Matt’s big hand began stroking my hair. My words faltered and stopped. This was nice: sitting with someone who wasn’t making demands of me, someone who listened to my words and saw what I’d done, someone who wasn’t trying to solve my problems but was quietly willing to share them.
I looked up at him and my heart squeezed. Here I was, falling apart, and Matt wasn’t scared away. A little flicker of hope sparked into existence. Maybe he wouldn’t give up on me.
“What would be helpful?” he inquired. “Do you want me to mop the floor again? Help you finish the pies? My handwriting isn’t great, but I could write place cards if it would help.”
My grateful smile was a tad on the watery side. I took a steadying breath and finally allowed my logical side to step in and take control. Really, I was worrying over nothing. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if I had one more pie to bake tomorrow. And I could write up the cards in about five minutes’ time.
“I’m going to clean up the kitchen and then go up to supper. Do you want to stay? It’s just me, Gus, and Rosa, I think. Unless Rosemarie is there. I think Rosa’s making pizzas. She’d love for you to come. Then, maybe you could come back here and watch a movie with us while I work on the centerpieces.” I paused and then bravely said, “Just having you here makes everything better.”
Matt’s countenance lit up, as if my words had meant the world to him. He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it in response. From the warmth of his smile, I had a feeling that he was holding back some terribly romantic comment. Suddenly, I rather regretted my insistence that he dial the romance back.
The rest of the evening passed cheerfully. Supper was small but fun. I sat back and listened, too tired to contribute much. With her brother in attendance and fewer people around, Rosemarie opened up, teasing Matt and making us laugh with stories from their childhood.
We’d brought all the centerpiece parts up to the big house and Rosemarie gladly sat in the family room with us, helping to finish all of them. Gus and Matt chose a funny movie and then kept out of the way while we worked. By the time Matt dropped Gus and me off at Gate House, my heart was much lighter. I was every bit as tired and every bit as concerned about the following day. Still, I knew Matt would be there, and that made all the difference in the world.
16
It was so very tempting to pull the covers over my head and ignore my alarm’s insistence that I wake up. I had a very long, very difficult day ahead of me. Knowing how hard it was going to be did nothing to help me face the day. Still, I’d planned so that I could have some comforting rituals in place before I’d have to deal with my family.
A long, hot shower helped. I took the time to make sure my hair looked its best, then moved on to applying my makeup with care. I had no illusions that looking great was going to change my family’s thoughtless comments. Rather, it was like putting on a uniform or getting ready to go into battle. With each step of my routine completed, I was that much more prepared to handle what was coming.
I’d already agonized over my wardrobe at great length. For Rosa’s sake, I wanted to look fabulous, because she certainly would. For my sake, I wanted to look as slim as my clothes could make me. And since Matt would be there, I also wanted to choose colors that complimented my dark hair and eyes.
Even before I woke Gus, I was dressed for the day. My tall boots were waiting at the door to embrace my feet and carry me through the long hours to come. I’d chosen a plaid, long-sleeved dress with a high waistline, dark leggings, and a long cardigan. The cranberry and hunter green of the dress were very complimentary. Even though I liked how I looked when I analyzed my reflection in my full-length mirror, I knew that my relatives would find something to criticize.
Then it was time to stop thinking of myself. Gus was none too eager to leave his warm bed and took some convincing to get up. Since working at the Beanery, he’d taken up drinking coffee. I had no idea how to go about making a good cup and had given in and purchased single-serving pouches of instant coffee. Gus was quick to tell me that this was not anywhere near the quality of
Matt’s coffee. Still, it was the best I could manage, and since it could be made with the same boiling water I needed for my tea, it made our mornings a little easier.
Once I’d fed him oatmeal and toast, it was time to coax Gus into his outfit for the day. I’d selected a long-sleeved polo shirt Mom had bought him. It was a very nice shirt and looked good on my brother. However, for reasons I couldn’t explain, Gus hated it.
“No, Corinne! Not that one!” he protested when he saw what I’d chosen.
“You know that Mom got this shirt for you. It won’t kill you to wear it.” I stood my ground. Here was the first battle of many to come today, and I steeled myself for it. “It will mean a lot to her to see you wearing something she picked out. Unless you have a really good reason not to wear it, put it on.”
Gus threw his head back and groaned dramatically, the offending shirt trailing on the ground. “Fine,” he submitted grumpily.
I left him to go and get the apple pies started. Since I’d already made all the dough the day before and it was chilling in the fridge, this ended up being a much easier task. Gus slouched out of his room dressed for the day.
“Thank you for putting that on,” I said placatingly. “You look very nice.”
“Ugh,” was all he had to say.
“It’ll be awhile before these are done. Do you want to go up to Bumblebee House and give Rosa a hand, or wait here and walk up with me?”
Gus decided to wait and plopped down in front of the TV. Within a few minutes, he was lost in his favorite video game, much happier with the world.
Once the last pie was pulled from the oven, I loaded them up in the car and we made the quick trip up to the big house. Rosa had been hard at work already, I could see. The house smelled delicious, and she’d decorated everything in her usual tasteful, creative way.
“Hi, Rosa!” Gus greeted my aunt.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” Rosa chirped and threw her arms around her nephew. I was the next to receive her hug, and I spent an extra few moments being comforted by her loving arms. When we pulled apart, Rosa eyed me knowingly. “This is going to be a wonderful day. Not because it’s going to be easy, but because we’ll be in fellowship with our family, and that is a good thing.”
I gave a determined nod, and then we were off. We scurried about preparing the table and the food. Matt arrived early and we put him to work. My mother texted repeatedly, and I answered each one without growing annoyed. I felt that this feat was fairly impressive and boded well for the rest of the day.
Then the family began to descend on us. Within an hour, Bumblebee House was full of conversation and running children. After doling out my initial welcomes, I retreated to the kitchen where I could at least keep my hands busy. Rosa was in more demand, and I was all too happy to keep the food on track.
Mom and Dad drove up, and I went in search of Gus. We walked down to their car and exchanged slightly stiff hugs.
“Gus! My baby!” Mom cried and threw her arms around her youngest boy. “You look too thin. Are you eating well? Corinne, what are you cooking for him?”
Dad grimaced and said, “He looks fine, Linda. Let’s get in the house.”
I threw him a grateful look, which was lost on my father. Taking a steadying breath, I turned and led the way back inside, where Mom proceeded to gush over each relative. It didn’t seem to matter that she disliked most of them. When in their presence, Mom loved everyone.
Matt emerged from the family room, and I braced myself for the introduction to my parents.
“Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet Matt Donovan. He’s Gus’s boss at the coffee shop, and his family owns the ranch where I work.” I didn’t bother to explain our romantic connection. That could be left until another time. “Matt, these are our parents, Frank and Linda Harrington.”
I watched my parents closely. Dad took in Matt’s height and his muscled arms and shoulders and straightened himself up a little before shaking the younger man’s hand in a manly and completely foreign way. As for my mother, she noticed the tattoos peeking out of the vee of Matt’s shirt and his thick beard, and drew Gus a little closer.
Still, when neither of my parents said anything that was outright rude, I let out the anxious breath I’d been holding and returned to the kitchen. However, any relief that I found there was short-lived.
It didn’t take long before Julia found me, engagement ring flashing.
“Corinne! It’s so good to see you! It’s been so long since we were together last year. The last time you saw me, I still had long hair, right? I totally love my short hair, don’t you? I think it makes me look older. I mean, long hair is great and all, but it seems kind of youthful, you know? And since I work in high finance, it’s really important that I look mature. Of course, between work and the hours I spend at the gym, it’s hard to keep up with my hair appointments.” Julia leaned on the counter, sipping from a ritzy bottle of vitamin water, and smiled condescendingly at me.
I kept my focus on dicing fruit for a salad and not picturing Julia’s perfect life. Fortunately, gloating eventually grew old and my cousin took her skinny self and her enormous diamond off to a fresh audience.
Fifteen minutes later, while I was buttering rolls, my aunts Dottie and Candace came into the kitchen in search of drinks and ended up sitting on the high stools at the counter. In hushed tones, they critiqued every single square inch of Uncle Joe’s new wife, Tatum, who was twelve years his junior. I wasn’t sure why they were so upset, since I remembered that they’d disliked Uncle Joe’s first wife, Kathy, every bit as much.
“So, Corinne,” Aunt Dottie purred, tiring of that topic, “how do you like your new job? You’re still a secretary, right? You haven’t been promoted or anything?”
“I am a secretary. I work at a local ranch. Everyone there has been very kind.” I pushed away the implied insult.
“Are you seeing anyone?” asked Aunt Candace coyly. “I can’t imagine there would be too many options in a little town like Birch Springs.”
Don’t mention Matt. Don’t go there, I told myself. It would not be beneficial to make a bigger thing out of our new romance. But, oh, a part of me was dying to brag about him.
Instead, I smiled at them. They didn’t really want a response and hardly paused for mine. And when it didn’t come, Aunt Candace leaned forward.
“You know, Corinne, it might help if you shed a few pounds. Julia has been working out a lot lately and she’s down to a size two, and she’s engaged. Amy’s always been athletic, and she never has had a shortage of dates,” she said in a knowing tone.
I turned to the oven and pretended that I needed to check on its contents. My face was red, and I was biting the inside of my lip to keep from saying something I’d regret. Sure, my cousin Amy was athletic and always had a boyfriend, but she also struggled with anorexia and low self-esteem. Being thin and dating wasn’t the only thing in life, I reminded myself.
“Will you excuse me? I need to check on something in the other room.” I didn’t wait for their permission. I strode from the room quickly, taking refuge in the empty dining room.
When Matt came along and found me refolding napkins at the big table, I felt some of the tension ease away. He came over and slung an arm around my shoulders.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
I let my head fall on his chest for a moment. “It won’t last forever, right?”
“Nope.” Matt dropped a kiss on the top of my head.
The sound of someone coming pulled us apart. I threw Matt an appreciative smile for his sensitivity a moment before my brother Charlie came into the room.
“I’ve been looking all over for you, Corinne,” Charlie said. “Listen, Quinn and I are worried about Gus.”
I turned to him with eyebrows raised. What was this about?
“Gus was telling Mom that you’re having him do chores at home. What’s that about?” Charlie stood back, arms crossed, waiting for me to defend myself.
Perhaps it
was all the barbs I’d already endured, but I didn’t feel like explaining. So, I crossed my own arms and said in the most reasonable tone I could muster, “I don’t know why it concerns any of you. You don’t live in our home and you don’t know much about our life here. Why do you think you have the right to worry about our brother doing chores?”
A sour look crossed Charlie’s face. “Look, Corinne, I know that Gus is your whole life. You’ve always liked hiding behind him so that you didn’t have to go out and do anything. You can be a spinster who collects cats if you want, but don’t let Gus be hurt because you’re obsessing over him.”
I looked up and saw that Matt was swelling with indignation. Throwing the sharp retort that sprang to mind in my brother’s face would not make the situation better. I needed to diffuse this situation now.
“Excuse me, Charlie. I’m not going to get into a petty argument with you. Let’s talk about this later.” Then I turned and walked swiftly to the door in the kitchen that led to the covered porch, not even glancing at my two aunts, who sat cackling at the counter.
I stepped out into the all-too-welcome silence and scurried over to a chair tucked into a forgotten corner. I pulled my legs up to my chest and breathed deeply, willing myself not to cry and mess up my makeup.
17
I felt small. It seemed silly to put it so simply, but I did. I felt pressed and crushed and deflated. It was as though all the best things about me had been drained away, and all that was left were the undesirable bits. My family had a way of neatly setting aside the things I wanted them to see and peering unfalteringly at the parts of myself that I wanted to hide.