by L. K. Gandy
Normally the food is always displayed on the table in front of us, but this year she’s decided on a self-serve buffet on the dark russet colored granite kitchen counters. Making my way behind Jaxx and my father, who always has to be first in line otherwise he starts spewing off shit about being head of the household, I’m hit with the familiar smells of my mother’s Christmas meal. Creamy mashed potatoes cooked with sour cream, milk, cheese, and butter sit next to slow-cooked green beans and creamed corn. My favorite buttermilk biscuits have their place alongside the steaming cooked cinnamon apples and the star of the show, the honey-baked ham. My mouth is watering just from looking at everything. Jaxx better get all the food he wants now, because I’ll be damned if I don’t eat the rest of everything here the minute he’s finished in line. Once our plates are loaded and we make our way back to the table, I notice my father’s eyes darting toward my stomach, but even more so I notice the look of distaste and disappointment on his face.
“Bulging out there a bit aren’t you, Sawyer?”
“They tell me that’s what happens when you’re pregnant.”
“You look great honey,” my mother interjects. I can tell she doesn’t approve of my father’s behavior, but she knows better than to say anything to him, especially in front of company. Looking back toward my dad I see his eyes flash toward my mom, and I know he’s giving her a look that he’s perfected over the years. One that says ‘it’d be wise of you not to say something like that again’ but she doesn’t seem to notice this time. Maybe she’s grown accustomed to it by now and has finally learned to ignore it, or has started drinking more as well. Either way, it pisses me off.
“Thanks Mom.” We sit quietly eating our meal, but I can feel eyes on me the entire time we’re eating. Taking one last bite, trying to savor everything before I explode, I look up and wipe my mouth with the napkin on my lap. “I think I’m ready to exchange gifts. It’s getting late, and I’m pretty tired.” I’m lying through my teeth but they don’t have to know that. I glance at Jaxx through the corners of my eyes, and I can see a slight smile form on his soft lips. I know he’s ready to go home just like I am if not more.
“I guess we can do that,” my father says taking another swig of scotch, emptying his glass. He seems disappointed with the lack of alcohol and shakes it at my mother, his signal to her that he wants a refill. Lazy ass bastard, can’t even get it himself. She obliges and pours him some more. I roll my eyes as I look at Jaxx and see him doing the same. I knew I loved that man, we seem to always be thinking the same thing. Making our way to the living room he grabs my hand.
“Thank you. I’m ready to get home.” I give him a kiss on the cheek and lead him to the gifts. My mother passes them out to the appropriate people, and we open them right away. I’ve always enjoyed opening gifts, and I tear into mine like an eager six-year-old girl. My mother has gotten me a pearl necklace with matching earrings.
“Mom, they’re beautiful. Thank you!” I reach across the glass coffee table that is also decorated with candles and trees to give her a hug.
“You’re welcome. Jewelry is always a great choice in my opinion.”
Jaxx opens his gift from my mom to find a matching set of pajamas.
“You’re always so hard to buy for, but you can never have too many pajamas.” She shrugs her shoulders.
“I love them, thank you.” I love him for making an effort. However every pair of pajamas he’s gotten from her, and he gets them every year, he’s taken to Goodwill. That man will never sleep in clothes, as much as I fight him. He always says something about getting sweaty balls at night. I’ve naturally stopped listening to him any time his balls are mentioned so I’m not overly concerned with what he does now.
The gifts from my father should be interesting. Last year he got us both books on investment banking. I’m not sure how much more personal and thoughtful you can get, but I don’t think he could get any closer if he tried. I roll my eyes at the idea.
“A book on ‘parenting for dummies’, wow.” The gift was addressed to both Jaxx and I, which should have set off my internal alarms and red flags immediately. The sarcasm rolling from my tongue is tinged with repugnance, and I hope he hears it and comprehends my mood.
“Might come in handy,” he spits out staring blankly into the amber liquid swirling around in his glass.
“Too bad this wasn’t out when I was growing up. You could have used a copy.” I can’t refrain from holding my tongue any longer and stand up from the couch ready to make my way to the door. Jaxx is now standing beside me, ready to follow.
“Excuse me?” The look of shock on his face shows me he wasn’t expecting my backtalk, and it makes me a little smug.
“Don’t play me for a fool. Just because you’re a horrendous parent doesn’t mean I’ll follow in your footsteps. I sure as hell won’t be caught degrading my children like you do to me. Jaxx, I’m ready to leave.” Grabbing the container of cookies my mother prepared for me, and the jewelry from the table, I look at my dad one last time before leaving. “Keep your fucking book,” I say as I slam it on the coffee table, shattering the glass.
“You’ll watch your language when you talk to me young lady.” He stands while his thundering voice echoes through the house, trying to prove his role as leader of this house, but I don’t give two shits about his flashy show.
“No, actually I won’t. I’m a grown ass woman, and I’ll do as I damn well please.” I turn to walk out the door, grabbing my jacket from Jaxx as he takes the things from my hands, but turn back to say one last thing. “I’ll tell you another thing. You better get your shit straight before I have this baby, or so help me, you won’t see it a day in your life.” Slamming a door behind me has never felt so satisfying.
Sawyer
I HAVE A DINNER DATE WITH Charlee tonight and couldn’t be more thankful for the timing. I haven’t seen her in almost two weeks because of our conflicting schedules, and I’m overdue for some best friend time. I’ve told her about the situation with Branson and Armie, but the little bitch is saying that I’m being petty. That I have issues if I let such a gorgeous man walk out of my life, especially without ‘boning’ him first. I’m not sure how I feel about that part, but I can understand where she’s coming from- the man IS gorgeous.
“Sawyer, you in here?” The sound of Shirley’s boisterous voice comes through the doorway before she does. She is an older woman, in her mid-fifties, with a silver colored sleek bob haircut and black rimmed glasses. Her clean-cut look carries itself well in the courtroom and shows in her flawless record.
“Over here Shirley.”
“Oh, there you are honey. I’m surprised I found you under all of this paperwork. When’s the last time you had a day off?”
“What is that exactly? I’m not sure I know what that means.” We both laugh because neither of us has taken time off from work in almost a year.
“That makes two of us. Why in the hell have you been working overtime though? A pretty young thing like you should cherish all the free time you can get!”
“I actually have a date with Charlee tonight at seven.”
“You know I love that girl; she reminds me a lot of myself. Especially in the man department, if you know what I’m saying.” She gives me a few winks along with a proud smirk. We both know Shirley gets around the block with Nashville’s older wealthy men. I’m not sure why she thinks Charlee does the same because she’s very picky about who she’s with. The girl has pretty high standards¸ even though she doesn’t mind flirting. Then again, no one knows her like I do, so I can understand how she’d get confused. “I don’t mean to burst any bubbles, but you do know it’s almost seven thirty, right?”
“WHAT!” Panicked, I quickly look at my watch. Shit. Charlee is going to kill me. I rummage through my purse in my desk to find my phone. Yep, I’m in trouble. Four missed calls and seven texts. I’m a little scared to open them. “Shirley, thanks for the heads-up, but I really have to go. If I don’t come in to work
on Monday, you know it was Charlee,” I say running from my office. She stands in the doorway waving at me before I’m gone from her view. Damn, I really should have been watching the clock. Thankfully I live fairly close to work, so the drive home won’t be an issue.
Walking into my front hallway I kick my heels off and throw my purse on the table along with my keys. I know she’s already here, probably in the kitchen with a glass of red wine in her hand. I gave her a spare key when I first moved in, and surprisingly I haven’t had to get after her too many times for ‘borrowing’ clothes without asking. Making my way to the kitchen I round the corner from the hallway.
“BOO!” Charlee screams, jumping in front of me from behind the wall, her hands splayed by her face.
“HOLY FUCK,”I scream as my body flails itself to the floor. I feel like I’ve had a slight heart attack, and my hands are frozen to my chest. “Damn you. My heart feels like it’s about to beat right out of my chest.”
“Serves you right for ignoring me and keeping me waiting. I had to resort to drinking alone.”
“Bullshit, we both know you like to do that.”
“Regardless. Get your ass up, I’m hungry.” She gives me her hand and pulls my still limp body from the floor.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I lost track of time, and my phone was on silent. If Shirley hadn’t come in the office to talk to me I don’t think I would have ever made it home before midnight.”
“I like her; she’s got spunk. Although, I get the vibe that she thinks I get around quite a bit. I mean, let’s be honest, I know SHE does, but the woman needs to get her facts straight before she tries to hook me up with the sons of her wealthy flings. Just because they have money does NOT mean I want to see them, let alone bone one. I could care less if a man has more money than me, as long as I’m happy, that’s all that matters.” She shrugs her shoulders slightly before adding, “I guess it helps if he’s hot too.”
“When have you ever dated a man that wasn’t hot?”
“I haven’t, that’s the point. I swear it’s like you don’t listen to me at all,” she says rolling her eyes sarcastically. “Now, I’m hungry, and I brought tequila and food. I’m thinking Mexican night. How does that sound?”
“Actually, it sounds pretty damn perfect. I haven’t had that in a while.”
“Good, now go make me some food.”
“What the fuck? Why do I have to make it? You were here already, and you brought all the food.”
“Exactly, I’ve done all the hard labor. Plus, you were late, so you owe me.” I could just slap that smug look off of her face right now, but she’s right.
“Fine, but you have to make the drinks. Make my margarita a double, with salt.”
“Bish, I know what you like, don’t worry. You act like this is my first rodeo.” I love her. She knows exactly how to lift my spirits. I’m sure the Branson topic will come up at some point tonight, but I think with a little bit of alcohol, it might be a little bit easier to talk about. Then again, everything in my life is a little easier to talk about when I’m drunk. “Why don’t you turn on some music?” She laughs a little before disappearing into my room to find the iPod. I busy myself with getting dinner ready. I’ve already poured her drink and start working on mine when Till the World Ends by Britney Spears starts blasting through the living room speakers. I turn to look at the commotion but I don’t see Charlee anywhere. What the hell? I’m about to turn back around when I see her slide into view in the doorway from the corner of my eye. Here we go again!
She’s wearing a long shirt I usually sleep in and long socks- bitch better have some damn panties on. Her hand is clutched into a fist pretending to hold a microphone to her mouth as she sings the lyrics at the top of her lungs. Jerry Maguire would be jealous right now.
“I’ll hold the fort down while you get changed,” she says screaming over the music. I laugh at her excitement and run as quickly as I can to get out of these clothes. This is exactly what I need right now. I get back into the kitchen and bump hips with her before grabbing my drink. Work Bitch is playing now, and we both dance around the kitchen. And by dancing I mean acting like a stripper. I really need to get laid. We finish three margaritas before the cooking is finished.
“What movie do you want to watch?” Charlee ask as she turns the music down. “We’ve watched Magic Mike about forty-five times already, but you know I’m always down for another time. The acting is horrible, but I could watch Channing dance all damn day. Phew, girl, I’m getting excited just thinking about it,” she says fanning her face. We both giggle, because it’s true.
“How about something else? I don’t need you to get a lady boner sitting that close to me on the couch.”
“You act like it would be the first time. Trust me, it wouldn’t be.”
“You’re so fucking gross. Get your lady boner out of my kitchen,” I say throwing a dish towel at her.
“Oh Hell on earth no, it’s too much fun to torture you.”
Charlee hands me another margarita that I drink quickly. I’ve needed a relaxing night, and one spent with my best friend is perfect. I set the table before going to my bedroom to put on some yoga pants. She already has pajama pants on from when she went to the bathroom earlier, and I’m beyond ready to get into mine and throw my hair up. It has always made me laugh that we both look nice during the day, but as soon as we get home we become as socially unacceptable as possible. Coming back into the kitchen I can tell this is going to be a good night. Lined on the island countertop are six shot glasses.
“So I was thinking, what the hell, let’s have some shots.”
“I’m thinking, I like the way you think.”
After dinner, more shots and another margarita, we find ourselves on the couch watching The Little Mermaid. I’m not sure how that happened but Netflix is an amazing tool, especially when drunk.
“Now that’s true love. Giving up everything you’ve ever known to jump into a whole new world to chase happiness. Thatshitsbeautiful,” Charlee says slurring her words together and pointing her hands at the television. “Speaking of beautiful shit, have you talked to Branson about Armie?”
“What would I say? I’m so confused. And he’s so damn hot, which makes it even worse.”
“Please stop making that face, it’s awful.”
“What face?”
“The one where you look like you’re smelling shit. You close your eyes, and start pouting and fake crying. Bleh.”
“I’ll show you bleh, bish.” I barely get the words out of my mouth before a pillow smacks her across the face.
“Oh, hell no,” she screams while trying to jump to her feet but failing. Instead she falls back on the couch and grabs the pillow. Damn, I should try to get up somehow. There’s a reason I only pick fights with her when we’re drunk, and that reason is because she’s a beast, and I get brave.
“I didn’t mean it! Leave me alone!” I scramble off the couch and army crawl on my stomach to safety behind the kitchen island.
“You can’t hide from me. Show your face you coward!” I peek around the corner of the island and see Charlee creeping toward the kitchen, in the wrong direction. She has her hands held together forming a gun with her fingers, and squinting her eyes together, trying to hunt for me. This is my opportunity to escape. I crawl on my hands and knees to the edge of the island, still staying out of sight, until she comes into view. I launch myself into the air, forming a gun of my own, pretending to shoot her with sounds effects and all, before falling to the carpet.
“Ahh, you got me,” she screams. “The pain, it’s too much. I can’t…hold…on…any longer. Goodbye, my dear friend.” Charlee clutches her chest while she slowly slides down the wall before resting on her butt. We both start laughing hysterically when the text alert on my phone starts ringing. I pick myself up from the floor and walk to the coffee table to find a text from Branson.
“It’s Branson.” I have to say it out loud because I’m shocked to see his name on
my phone.
“What’d panty boy say?”
I hesitate with my finger hovering over the screen. Do I really want to see what he’s said after the bonfire? I’m scared, but I need to get this over with.
“Well?”
“He said he misses me, and he wants to see me.”
“Well there you go.”
“He invited me to his son’s birthday party. He wants me to meet Armie.”
“Who the hell is Armie?”
“His son, dumbass. Are you listening to me at all or are you that drunk already?” I say rolling my eyes at her.
“Oh, that’s right. Sick name. Well? What’d you say?”
“I haven’t said anything yet.”
Charlee leans on the counter while pouring herself another shot. “You know, love is such a fickle thing. But tequila, now that my friend,” she points at me, “is always a constant in life.” After putting the glass in the dishwasher she turns toward me and gives me a sad smile. “You need to do some soul searching, hon. I can talk until I’m blue in the face, but it’s your choice. If you can picture your life without him in it, then don’t go. If you can’t, well, I guess you’ve found your answer.” She hugs me before saying, “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t bother me until after eleven, or I’ll maul your face. Love you, bye.” I decide that’s a good idea as well and head to my bedroom. Sliding under the covers I grab my phone from the night stand and type out a quick message. My finger hovers over the send button. This is it. I have to make a choice. I hit send just before falling asleep.
PULLING INTO BRANSON’S DRIVEWAY GIVES me an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t nervous the entire drive over, but finally getting here and seeing other parents walking their children into the house leaves me feeling uneasy. Let’s face it, kids are scary, sneaky little fuckers, and I’ll be lucky to make it out alive let alone in one piece. They have to touch everything with their disgusting grubby hands, and I rather enjoy having nice things. You can throw that out the window when a kid is around. Deciding it’s now or never, I choose to get my ass in the house and use the few imaginary ninja skills I think I know to ward off these hellions. Before I’m able to knock the door swings open cheerily.