by Toni Aleo
Not having a defined recipe with specific instructions was stressing Georgiana out. She dipped a spoon into the pan to give the gravy a taste test. “It’s too floury. Did I add too much flour?”
“You haven’t let it cook enough, Georgie. Give it a moment.”
“I just wanna make sure it turns out right, just like you and Grandma always made.”’
“Well frettin’ over it isn’t gonna make it taste any different.” Rebecca reached for the whisk and hipchecked her daughter out of the way. “You need to make it with love, darlin’. You don’t wanna be putting bad energy into the food.”
What did that even mean? Of course she was putting love and care into all the food she was making. Georgiana wanted to control everything—the cooking, the flavor, the entire dinner experience. Even though she knew how impossible that was, that didn’t stop her mind from running a million miles an hour.
The gravy was the last thing needed to complete the big meal. And everything seemed to be riding on it.
While her mom tended to the gravy and sprinkled in the salt and pepper, Georgiana began to carry the dishes out to the table in the dining room. She made an announcement to the crowd. “Dinner’s just about ready, y’all. Grab your drinks, time to gather ‘round here and find your seats.”
Ian called out, “I call corner!”
Aidan shouted, “I call other corner!”
“There’s no dibs on seats, guys. I set out place cards.”
“Assigned seats?” Aidan groaned. “Since when did Christmas get so formal?”
Georgiana spoke through clenched teeth and a forced smile. “Since we have houseguests.” She left off the “asshole” that she wanted to say.
Aidan rolled his eyes but gave no further protest.
Bryan played bartender and made sure the adults had full glasses of wine and the children had milk, while Amanda corralled her kids around the kiddie table and got them settled in.
Bryan was given the seat at the head of the table; even though it was Georgiana’s house, she wanted him to have the seat of honor. And she was going to sit to his right, with Carol across from her and Perry to Carol’s left. Rebecca was on Georgiana’s right, with Leonard on her left, and the brothers and wives at the opposite end of the table. That worked out perfectly, so Georgiana could get to know Bryan’s parents, and Emma had the high chair at the other end of the table for Bella.
Once the food was all brought out and Bryan was ready to carve the turkey, Georgiana clinked her knife against her glass of water and stood. “Can I have your attention please, everybody?” She paused to make sure they were all looking at her. Except for the kids, of course, who were way too preoccupied with their crafts.
She began a brief speech. “I just want to thank all of you for coming, especially the Comstocks. It almost didn’t happen, with the freak blizzard in Fargo yesterday, but I’m happy we could all come together and meet. Bryan and I are both ecstatic that we can spend our first Christmas together with our families and join together to celebrate the holiday. Hopefully, this is a new tradition that we can carry on for many years to come.” She raised her glass. “Cheers!”
The table echoed her sentiment and began to dig in.
Chapter Three
Bryan looked down at the people sitting around the table. There was his family and his soon-to-be in-laws, all in one room, sharing a meal on Christmas Eve. He didn’t want to get all sentimental or anything, but it was a beautiful sight.
Everyone was getting along so far, it seemed, with Rebecca charming his parents and Bryan acting as a buffer between the Comstocks and the Piersons. There were differences between them, especially between his mom and Georgiana’s dad. His mom was a college professor with a doctorate in English literature, and she loved to have deep, philosophical talks about social and political topics—and Bryan knew that her liberal views would not mix well with Leonard’s conservatism.
He did his best to steer the conversations toward lighter subjects as they passed the time before dinner and during. “Georgiana cooked everything herself for tonight’s dinner. She’s been cooking for days.”
Georgiana blushed and dismissed Bryan’s praise. “Oh, it wasn’t that big of a deal. I’m happy to do it.”
“I had mentioned some of the dishes we had as tradition every year, and she looked up some recipes. So we’d feel right at home. Wasn’t that nice of her?”
Her voice was low. “Stop, Bry. It was nothing.”
“It means a lot to me,” he replied, whispering in her ear before kissing her cheek.
“Yes, I can see that you went to a lot of . . . effort,” Carol said, using her fork to poke at the blob of sweet potatoes on her plate. “I guess sweet potato casserole and candied yams can get a little confusing if you’re not used to it.”
The redness in Georgiana’s cheeks washed away in seconds. “Did I get it wrong? The recipe?”
“Mom . . . .” Bryan was trying to contain the situation before it erupted. He knew what was happening—his mom was just being honest, but the truth was going to hurt Georgiana. “She tried really hard to make this dinner perfect for everyone.”
Rebecca chimed in to try to help. “You really nailed all our family dishes, Georgie.”
She mumbled, “Thanks, Mom.”
Bryan shot his mother a look, begging her to say something nice and smooth this over.
Carol tried. “The gravy is fantastic.”
Georgiana dropped her fork. It clanked against the plate and drew a lot of eyes in her direction. She recovered quickly, wrapping her fingers around the fork and setting it down on the table beside her plate. “Actually, I didn’t make the gravy. It’s the one thing I didn’t make. Mom did.”
“Oh, well, Rebecca, it’s delicious.” Carol gave out another compliment and then took a large bite of mashed potatoes and gravy, probably so she wouldn’t have to speak again in the next few moments.
Bryan couldn’t read the look on Georgiana’s face. Her eyes were transfixed on the plate in front of her, but she wasn’t eating or even playing with her food. Something didn’t seem right.
He nudged his girlfriend gently under the table with his knee. That at least got her to look up at him. He smiled at her. “Everything’s really great, Georgiana.”
She smiled back at him, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes or light up her face like it usually did. Her response was barely audible. “Thanks, babe.”
Georgiana had been just fine until the sweet potato comment. Was that the problem?
“This sweet potato casserole is so good,” he continued. “In fact, I think I like it better than the other thing, the candied yams. Maybe this can be our new tradition.”
While her face didn’t totally illuminate, she did at least brighten up. “I’d like that.”
He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Me too.” And Bryan really meant it. Georgiana had gone a little overboard with trying to accommodate everyone—especially when this dinner was about the start of something new. It was their first Christmas together, the first of many, and about uniting these two families into one and cementing his relationship with the best partner he couldn’t have even imagined in his wildest dreams.
“Speaking of tradition,” Leo said from the other end of the table, “we’re gonna have to figure out our teams this year for the football game. If any of you Comstocks are up for it, that is.”
“We’d love to have y’all join, if that’s something you’re into,” Georgiana added.
“A nice, rousing game of flag football to help us work off some of our dinner and make room for pie,” Leonard laughed, clapping his hand down on his paunch.
“Last year, it was me, Dad, and Ian against Leo, Daniel, and Carrie.”
“I’m definitely back in, now that I’m not pregnant,” Emma said. “And I want to play opposite Daniel.”
“Oh, I’m in, too,” Bryan said, swallowing a mouthful of turkey. “I don’t even care which team you put me on.”
“A prof
essional athlete? Well that’s going to give a team one hell of an advantage,” Amanda commented.
“Yeah, but he’s a hockey player,” Ian said with a smirk. “He probably can’t play football worth shit.”
Bryan defended himself. “Hey, I played pee wee in middle school before I had to quit to focus on hockey. And I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been. Bet I’ll run circles around you.”
“I would like to see you try to run circles around me. I was the top receiving tight end for the Texas Longhorns. Led the 2013 season with eight touchdowns.”
Leo snorted. “That’s not counting the five you dropped, right?”
Ian grunted. “Whatever.”
Bryan looked toward his left. “You in, Dad?”
Perry pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I haven’t played football since they made me in high school gym class.” He glanced at his wife and ignored her disapproving stare. “As long as you promise to take it easy on me . . . .”
“We can make you quarterback of one of the teams, Perry, how’s that?” Georgiana advised. “It can be you and Dad as quarterbacks, and we’ll divide the teams after dinner.”
“Well, I’m as full as a tick,” Leonard said, rubbing his belly. “I’ll be good to get moving before diggin’ into that sweet potato pie.”
Georgiana was glad when dinner was over. Her family had been perfectly pleased by the food—it was easy enough to get those recipes right—but Carol had been unimpressed. Well, except by the gravy, which she hadn’t even fucking made. It was infuriating and embarrassing and disappointing. She’d promised Bryan and his family a Christmas Eve that would rival their own celebrations, and she’d failed. Didn’t even make the right foods.
Tears stung her eyes. It was so stupid—and she knew it was stupid—but she was upset and couldn’t help it. So what if it were irrational; she couldn’t stop what she was feeling.
She had never failed at anything she tried. Ever. She was used to succeeding and winning over people, but Bryan’s mother seemed impossible to please. So far. Georgiana knew this was a minor setback, and that she would win her over, eventually. They still had the rest of the evening and the next day to get to know each other, and Georgiana would make Carol love her.
Georgiana cleaned up the table and stored the leftovers in the fridge, while her dad and brothers gathered up the flag football equipment. They decided on goal lines and used spray chalk paint to put lines on the mini-field in her big backyard.
Once she’d finished up in the kitchen, she changed out of her nice blouse to a baggy Comets t-shirt with her jeans and then pulled her hair into a sloppy bun. She’d worked so hard for most of the morning to manage her curls into pretty spirals instead of the wild and frizzy mess it usually was. Georgiana felt more like herself like that, in comfortable clothes and tied back hair. Getting all dolled up was fun when it was for herself and not as much when it was to impress.
She burst out of the back door and into the yard, ready to play. “All right, I’m ready to kick ass and take names. Who’s with me?”
“Well, we’ve got,” Leonard started to say, counting out everyone huddled in the center of the makeshift field. “Nine of us. We need a tenth to even us out.”
“Amanda,” Leo asked, “you in?”
“No way,” she called back, settling in next to Rebecca on the bench. “I’m quite content to sit here, drink wine, and be a cheerleader.”
There was only one other option. “Mom,” Bryan called out. “You want in?”
Her face gave away her answer before her voice did. “No thank you, dear. You know how I feel about organized team sports.”
Georgiana was surprised by that answer. Her son played in a professional team sport and was compensated well for it. How could she say that?
But she needed to see this as an opportunity. Georgiana clearly didn’t know Carol at all, and this was her chance to change that.
“Why don’t y’all go ahead?” She pulled up a chair next to Carol. “I’ll be a sub, if you need me.”
“You sure?” Bryan asked. He knew this game was tradition; he’d heard about it plenty of times from Georgiana. He’d hate for her to have to sit out and miss it.
Getting to know her boyfriend’s mother was so much more important to Georgiana than a football game, even if she’d played every year since she was seven. Some things were more important than tradition.
“Absolutely. I’m happy to cheer you on, Bry. Just please be careful. We’re in the middle of the season, and we have a big road trip after our break.”
“That’s my girl,” Bryan laughed. “Always putting the team first.”
Everyone hollered, psyched up for the game. Georgiana felt antsy sitting on the sidelines. The football game was starting, but she was starting the scariest conversation she’d ever had. “So, Mrs. Comstock, you don’t or haven’t played any team sports?”
“Definitely not.” She was sitting with pristine posture, not looking very relaxed. “And definitely not football. It’s so dangerous, between injuries and concussions. I see so many students every year, they’re banking on going pro from college, until they blow out their knees or suffer one concussion too many. With concussions, you’re completely sacrificing your future. And if you don’t have an education, good luck finding a job. That’s why I always stressed to Bryan the importance of staying in college and earning his degree before I’d even let him think about playing in the pros.”
“Bryan’s told me that, how important education is to you.”
It was like she didn’t hear Georgiana at all. “And hockey is just as bad as football. I never wanted Bryan to play contact sports, but I indulged him as a child when he begged to join the teams. I regret that decision now. I’m sure you see it, too, working the job that you do. I don’t even know how you do it, knowing what can happen to these players, seeing them everyday knowing how they’re jeopardizing everything.”
Georgiana was stunned. Did she really hate Bryan’s career? And was she attacking her own career as Director of Team Services? She had to defend herself. “Now that we know more about what’s happening, the leagues are taking more precautions than ever. Changing equipment and rules so there’s less chance of such serious injuries happening.”
“Well, you can argue chances and percentages, but as long as the risk is there, it’s not worth it. Not when it comes to my son.” She sighed. “But, as he so often reminds me, it’s his life and his decisions. I don’t necessarily support his choices, but I do support my son.”
She watched as Carol smoothed out her skirt and pursed her lips. She didn’t look at all happy—to be forced into watching a game that her son and husband were both participating in, a game that she was adamantly and fundamentally opposed to, or even happy to be there at all, at Georgiana’s house, where her family supported and actively participated in contact sports.
Georgiana never would have expected such a viewpoint from Bryan’s mom; he’d never mentioned anything about her not ever supporting him or his decision to play sports, let alone pursue a professional hockey career. It made some sense, though, why Bryan seemed so lost when he first arrived in Dallas, all those months ago. Perhaps he’d never really felt confident if he didn’t have the full backing of his loved ones.
Learning this about him and his mom definitely added a layer of complication to their relationship, begging the question: how much more didn’t she know about him and his family?
And would Georgiana be able to win Carol over if she sided with her son rather than with her?
Chapter Four
The eight players stood in a circle. It was time to figure out who would play on what team. The group decided that Bryan should play against his father, and that Ian should be on Perry’s team since he was, as he said, the top receiving tight end for his college team. That would even out some of the athletic “talent.” Daniel was added Leonard’s team, so Emma was sent to Perry’s. Leo went to Perry’s team, so Aidan went to his dad’s team.
“So we have four players per team, that means one quarterback and three receivers. We don’t have room for kickin’, so we’ll pick up the ball fifteen yards from the goal line for first down. Let’s do a coin toss to determine who goes first. You wanna call it, Perry?”
“Sure thing,” he said, pushing up his glasses again as Leonard grabbed a quarter from his pocket. “Uh, heads.”
The coin landed in the grass, tails up. Leonard grinned. “Well, it looks like we’ll be takin’ possession first. Ready, boys? And Emma?”
Bryan nodded, and his team quickly jogged behind the the designated yard line to huddle up. Leonard was quick to strategize. “Now it may be your father, Bryan, who’s QBing, but Ian’s calling the plays. He’s gonna cover you. And of course they’re gonna put Emma on Daniel and Leo on Aidan. There’s no need to run plays. You just get yourself free, and I’ll get you the ball. Got it?”
“Got it,” they all called back. Aidan was center, with Bryan on his right and Emma on his left. He snapped the ball to his dad, and all three of them shot forward. The pairings happened just as Leonard had predicted, so Bryan was getting his chance to show up Ian.
His looks were misleading. Ian was huge: 6’ 5” and, if Bryan had to guess, pushing 300. He still had the general physique of a tight end, with ten to twenty extra pounds added since he quit playing. But he was faster than his size indicated. So even though Bryan was considerably more svelte and in game-time shape, Ian was still closely matched.
And a fierce competitor, too. He matched Bryan step-for-step, covering him so closely that Leonard wouldn’t throw him the ball. Aidan got most of the passes, considering that Daniel and Emma paid more attention to each other than the play.