Wild Man

Chapter Eleven Thanksgiving

A week and a half later…

“You wanna tell me, sweetness, how dessert for seventeen people translates into seven pies and two cakes?” Brock asked.

I watched Rex give Joel a look as we all stood at the trunk of my car and Brock carefully handed out bags filled with cake boxes and stacked pie holders to his sons. Joel caught Rex’s look and they both visibly struggled with quelling their laughter.

I answered Brock, “I did the calculations.”

Brock straightened from the trunk with the last bags and slammed it shut.

Then he looked at me saying, “You did the calculations.”

“Yes,” I answered, holding a bundle of flowers, a six pack of bottled Bud and a bag filled with a tub of Cool Whip, canned whipped cream, a carton of the real stuff not yet whipped and a gallon of gourmet vanilla bean ice cream

Brock continued not to move and also continued to stare at me.

So I asked, “What?”

“How many slices do you get out of a pie?” he asked back.

“That isn’t the point,” I informed him.

“What is?” he asked me.

“Well, it’s Thanksgiving and people look forward to it and everyone has something they look forward to about it. So, say you’re looking forward to a piece of pumpkin pie and I only made one pumpkin pie and one pumpkin pie isn’t enough for seventeen people should, even though it’s unlikely but it could happen, all seventeen people want a slice of pumpkin pie.

Then, say, you didn’t move fast enough so you didn’t get your piece of pumpkin pie. Think of how disappointed you would be. So, I made two pumpkin pies, two pecan pies and two apple pies, the traditional pies of Thanksgiving and that way everyone can be sure to have what they’re looking forward to.”

Rex and Joel continued to quell their laughter however not entirely successfully as I heard snickers.

Brock continued to stare at me but now he was doing it like he thought I may be a little crazy.

I kept talking.

“Then, just in case there are those who wish to venture out of the traditional, I made a maple buttermilk pie which isn’t traditional but it is autumnal so it fits with the occasion and then there might be those who want a little something different but a taste of traditional so I made a pumpkin cheesecake and for those who just might be in the mood for cake, I made a the crowd pleaser of chocolate with whipped cream frosting.”

Brock continued to stare at me and now he was doing it like he didn’t have any doubts about the fact I was crazy.

“Jeez, Tess, how long did it take to make all this?” Joel asked and I looked to him.

“Honey, I own a bakery. I do this for a living. Even in my kitchen at home, I whipped all that up in about three hours.”

This wasn’t true. It took more like five.

“Awesome,” Rex muttered. “She’s like a cake baking superhero.”

“And a pie baking one,” Joel added.

I smiled at the boys then looked back at Brock and suggested, “Maybe we should go in?”

“Yeah and hopefully me and my boys can haul all this in there without any of us getting a hernia,” Brock muttered, both his sons lost their battle with their humor and burst out laughing and then, eyes to his boys, Brock jerked his chin toward his mother’s house and they started marching. I fell in step beside Brock following them and heard him say under his breath, “Only I could find a woman who describes pies as ‘autumnal’.”

“Well, how would you describe maple buttermilk pie?” I asked.

“Babe, I’ve never had maple buttermilk pie but there are only three adjectives to describe any pie and those are bad, okay and fuckin’ great.”

“Then it’s good you work in law enforcement and not as a food critic,” I muttered.

“Yeah, that’s good,” he muttered back and I could hear the smile in his voice.

I watched Rex walk up his grandmother’s front walk cautiously carrying the bag with the boxed chocolate cake well away from one side of his body and the one with the cheesecake well away from the other lest they bump into his legs and get jostled. Then my eyes moved to Joel who had two bags, each with two carefully stacked pies in holders and he was also cautiously holding his arms away from his body. Then I looked down at Brock’s hands to see he had one bag with three carefully packed pies and another bag with two bottles of wine and a two liter of pop.

Then I considered the possibility that I might have gone overboard.

“Maybe I went overboard,” I murmured as we neared the front door.

“Baby, my calculations say, just with the pies, there are fifty-six pieces open to seventeen people. That’s more than three pieces of pie for each person. And that doesn’t even take into account the cake. I think ‘maybe’ should be deleted from that sentence even if it is Thanksgiving and we can all expect to lapse into a food coma in about three hours.”

Seeing as neither had free hands and they were treating their baked good carrying responsibilities with paramount importance, Joel nor Rex braved knocking on the door so Joel started shouting, “Grandma! Open up!”

At this, it hit me that Brock wasn’t wrong.

Then I found my mouth whispering, “I didn’t want to mess up.”

To which I heard Brock say softly, “Hey,” and I stopped watching Joel shout (with Rex now accompanying him) and looked up to Brock. His eyes moved over my face then captured mine before he leaned in deep, touched his mouth to mine, pulled back an inch and murmured, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Eat a lot of pie so it doesn’t look ridiculous how many leftovers there are?” I murmured back and he grinned.

“Scout’s honor, darlin’, I’ll do my best to have your back.”

I returned his grin and whispered, “Thanks.”

The door opened and Jill was there.

A year and a half older than Brock, her hair had started to silver and she let it go at that.

She got her Mom’s eyes, both her parents’ height (like all her siblings), wasn’t pleasantly rounded like Laura but fit in a sturdy way. She’d been with her partner Fritz for twenty years, they’d never married and they had two daughters named Kalie and Kellie, aged, respectively, eighteen and sixteen.

I’d been around Jill three times because she came with Laura and/or Fern to my bakery but I had yet to meet Fritz, Kalie or Kellie and, to add to that, Austin, Laura’s husband and Levi, Brock’s brother would be new additions to my ever-expanding Lucas social network.

In other words, regardless of the fact I knew some of them; I didn’t know others so I was more than a little bit nervous thus me going overboard on dessert.

“Hey guys, welcome to the madhouse,” she greeted, pushing open the storm door and holding it whereupon Joel and Rex carefully scuttled in sideways giving their aunt their greetings then disappeared into the house.

Jill’s eyes went to her brother.

Then she asked quietly, “How’d you talk the Wicked Witch of the Rockies into relinquishing her offspring for a family holiday?”

“I didn’t. Tess provided distraction for me in the front while I penetrated the house through a basement window and the boys and me escaped out back. She still doesn’t know they’re gone.”

Brock said this as we both slipped by her and into the house but I did it smiling because my man was funny.

Jill closed the door and looked at me muttering, “I wish.”

Brock finally spoke the truth. “It was my turn, Jill.”

“The other story is better,” Jill said as she guided us toward the kitchen and when we hit it, I noticed madhouse it was.

Fern lived in a two bedroom bungalow with a finished basement in the out, out, outskirts of Washington Park. In other words, she was in my ‘hood though I lived close to Reiver’s Bar and Grill so I was officially in the ‘hood while Fern was arguably in it.

Brock had told me he and his family didn’t grow up in this house but in a much bigger one situated in the Highlands. The house he grew up in was the house Cob had left his family in and he left his family in that house when his wife was a nurse’s aide and didn’t make a lot of money. And he left his wife, who was from Montana and all her family still lived there (to this day), in that house and didn’t provide either financial support or very much of his time to help his wife raise their children and pay the bills and she had no kin close to help her do it.

Cue Brock and Jill, at very young ages, growing up fast to assume heavy responsibilities as Fern took extra shifts as well as night classes to become an x-ray technician. Then they kept these responsibilities as Fern went on to take classes to become a radiology technician in order to make enough money to keep a roof over the heads and food on the table for her brood which included two growing strong and tall boys. And always, Fern worked full-time hospital shifts which meant Brock and Jill never lost these responsibilities but Brock, being the oldest boy, assumed more.

However, once the kids were out, Brock told me Fern put their big, four bedroom house on the market, “two seconds after Laura’s foot left the threshold” (Brock’s words) and downsized.

Lucky for her, she’d been in that old house for decades and the real estate boom and regeneration in their old neighborhood meant she made a mint on it. This meant she owned outright this cozy, comfortable, easy-to-maintain bungalow that, even small, still managed to look and feel like the definition of Grandma’s House.

And the big kitchen full of family on Thanksgiving Day screamed it when we walked in and were immediately accosted.

And I had to say, seeing it, I liked it.

For about ten minutes.

Laura swept forward and, with a kiss on her brother’s cheek and quick hug for me, she divested me of my flowers, the beer and bag and swept away at the same time Jill took Brock’s burdens.

Dylan and Ellie (in another princess dress, this time with pink, sequined mary janes but she’d added a crown adorning her dark locks and I got that seeing as Thanksgiving was a big occasion so royal headwear was an important accessory), both screeching, attacked Brock’s legs while Grady hung back and played it cool when he greeted his awesome uncle. I watched Brock’s big hand give Dylan’s neck a squeeze but he swung Ellie up in his arms to kiss her neck and, this time, tickle her sides so the air rang with her peels of little girl giggles.

After he was done with that, she turned to me.

“Are we gonna watch Tangled, Aunt Tess?” she asked.

I got the title of “Aunt Tess” at the bakery the second time Laura brought the kids in.

I also liked it.

“Sure, honey, maybe after we eat.”

“Yay! ” she shrieked, arms straight up in the air and Brock smiled down at her.

“Great, Tangled, ” Dylan muttered.

“I’m watchin’ football,” Grady declared.

“So am I,” Rex seconded that notion.

“And everyone knows Thanksgiving means football not cartoons,” Joel told Ellie.

“Boys can watch football in the basement while the girls have girl time with Tangled in my bedroom,” Fern declared while unearthing my chocolate cake from a box. “Now, children out. Go play Wii. Go play football in the yard. Go play anything just go play. ”

Hmm. It seemed cooking for seventeen was putting Fern in a mood.

Joel, Rex, Grady and Dylan raced out screaming, “Football! ” and Brock put a confused looking Ellie on her feet. She watched the door where the boys disappeared, considering this dilemma and clearly wishing to play princess games though unsure how to convince her all-male older brothers and cousins this was what they’d prefer. Then, gamely, she raced out after them and I hoped they didn’t damage her crown when tackling her.

“Hey Uncle Slim,” I heard and I looked up to see a very pretty, dark, curly-to-frizzy haired girl who was dressed like she was at a costume party and she was a 60’s hippie (without headband or funky sunglasses but the rest… all there) come forward and give Brock a hug.

“She lives,” Brock teased, hugging her back and I scanned the room.

Those I knew were there including Elvira who was standing at the sink peeling potatoes liked she’d been to Thanksgiving at Brock’s Mom’s house every year since she was born.

Yes, I said Elvira.

Although it was me who “asked” her (in quotes because she mostly invited herself), I wasn’t entirely sure why she was there. I’d since had cosmos with her and the girls (twice) and she was not afraid of texting or phoning to tell you anything that was on her mind (frequently), I still didn’t know her very well. What I did know was that she was currently in some drama with her sister and they weren’t speaking, she detested (with a passion) her brother’s new “skanky ‘ho” of a girlfriend and, wisely (I thought) to escape this discord her parents had chosen Thanksgiving to vacation in Hawaii. Therefore, Elvira was at odds for a Thanksgiving meal and although she had tons of friends, she latched onto me.

I suspected undercover work for Martha but I knew what it was like to face a Thanksgiving alone and the lengths you’d go to avoid that so I’d let her make that play and, when I asked, Fern told me she felt the more the merrier.

Brock did not feel the same way and nonverbally let this be known (another time he looked at me like I was crazy) but he didn’t say word one.

Also in the room was a tall, blond man with light blue eyes who was smiling at me like a madman (my correct guess, Austin), a stocky, salt and pepper, close-cropped but obviously still frizzy-haired man (another correct guess, Fritz), a tall, dark-haired girl who was for some reason in late November wearing short-shorts and a thin drapey t-shirt over a camisole (and that reason might be because she was young, she was gorgeous, she had great legs and I was with her, if you had them, flaunt them) who had to be Kellie (Jill and Fritz’s youngest) and the girl hugging Brock who had to be Kalie. Lastly, a breathtakingly handsome man who, with his tall, lean, powerful, fit body, thick, dark hair but, strangely, since no one else had them, hazel eyes, had to be Levi and hovering visibly nervously at Levi’s side was a young woman (another correct guess, in her late twenties) with a fabulous figure, blonde hair in a pixie cut that suited her very pretty features and a carefully selected outfit that said she wanted to impress but not show off, Levi’s latest squeeze.

Jill introduced me to Fritz as Kellie went in for her snuggle with her uncle (and also got stick from him for “disappearing into thin air”, his words). Laura introduced me to Austin who smiled warmly at me while giving me an equally warm hand squeeze. Elvira muttered,

“Yo bitch,” at me to which everyone chuckled even though they all had just met her that day.

Then Levi came forward with his girl and I watched him as he did it.

Oh man.

Suffice it to say, one look at him I knew he trusted me a fair sight less than Cob did.

He clapped his brother’s arm while shaking his hand, kissed my cheek, stepped back and introduced his girl as Lenore before he launched in.

“Tess, been hearin’ a lot about you.”

“I’ll bet,” I replied.

“You been hearin’ a lot which makes me wonder why we haven’t seen you a lot,” Brock put in and Levi’s eyes went to his brother.

“Been busy,” he muttered.

“Not too busy to hear a lot about Tess,” Brock remarked and Levi decided to ignore that and he looked back at me.

“Got tight with Slim quick,” he noted.

“Levi,” Fern said in a warning tone.

“Oh boy,” Elvira said to the potatoes in an undertone.

“Not exactly,” Brock said in a rumbling tone and Levi looked back to his brother.

“Yeah, heard about that too.”

I tensed at Brock’s side; Brock felt it and his arm came around my shoulders.

“It’s Thanksgiving, I got my boys, I got my family and I got my woman. What I don’t wanna get is pissed off,” Brock said low and Levi held his eyes.

Standoff and I didn’t think this was good. Levi was questioning his brother’s judgment and it might be for protective reasons but Brock was the kind of man who wouldn’t appreciate that. Brock had also both said and demonstrated that he intended to protect me and a full frontal assault to test me within ten minutes of arriving for Thanksgiving, if Levi didn’t back down, was not going to go down well.

It was time to institute damage control and I did it by looking to Lenore who was studying Levi with both concern and bafflement.

I took her in and then said, “Lenore, I really like your boots.”

Her body jerked and her eyes came to me. Then she whispered, “Uh… thanks. I was, uh…” her eyes shifted to Levi then back to me, “thinking the same thing about yours. And that’s a really nice sweater.”

“I have a friend who works at Neiman’s,” I told her and now I did for with Elvira came Gwen, Tracy and Cam and Tracy was generous with her discount. My sweater cost a whack but, as all girls knew, I needed the perfect sweater for Thanksgiving dinner with Brock and his family so, like the nightie, I’d splurged. And, unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing I bought.

I really needed to sell more cupcakes.

“Employee discount,” Elvira muttered over her potatoes.

Lenore gave another searching glance to Levi then, to me, “Cool.”

I studied her and it hit me. She liked Levi like, a lot. He was with his family and she was just his latest piece. But to her, this was important. To her, this was meeting his family and she was reading this as a hopeful occasion when, with the way Levi was behaving with her, it was not. She was noting this and therefore understandably confused. And, with the way Levi was behaving, in the not-too-distant future, she was going to be heartbroken.

I looked back at Levi to see him opening his mouth to say something but Fern got there first.

“Men, out, you’re underfoot, you have no intention of helping and if you tried, you’d mess it up. Go turn on a TV somewhere. Take those crackers and cheeseball with you. And the bowls of nuts. And the chips and dip.”

Elvira looked over her shoulder at me then with her head she gestured to the kitchen table which was covered in bowls and plates filled with pre-Thanksgiving nibbles that might defeat the purpose of Thanksgiving. Then she gave me an approving look that said Fern was not Ada and this clear plus was to be reported to Martha at her earliest opportunity.

“Tess! These pies are just beautiful! ” Laura exclaimed and I looked to her.

She was right. My pies were gorgeous. I’d gone all out. The pumpkin ones had a border of egg-washed pumpkin cutouts I’d stamped out of pie crust and I’d even rolled out then arranged curly miniature vines that I’d attached to the pumpkin stems. The apple one had an apple cutout border. The maple buttermilk, maple leaves. And with the pecan, I’d painstakingly fashioned a decorative pie edge that was experimental but came out looking great.

It wasn’t just cakes that deserved to be pretty.

“Jesus, fuck me, flashback,” Levi muttered under his breath, eyeing the unveiled pies on his mother’s kitchen counter then he looked to Brock. “Olivia used to make you cinnamon nut muffins. Granted, they didn’t look that good or taste good but she did it.”

The air in the room went static as Laura snapped, “Levi!” Austin said low, “Dude, uncool,” Fritz muttered under his breath, “Jesus,” Elvira muttered under hers, “Oh boy,”

Kellie and Kalie whispered in unison, “Ohmigod,” Brock’s body went solid and Fern whirled on her son.

“Tell me you did not just say that,” she demanded and Lenore slid closer to her man who was not her man.

“Am I wrong?” Levi asked his mother.

“What you’re wrong about is thinking you’re too old to get a slap across the mouth from your mother,” Fern shot back.

“Outside,” Brock growled and everyone looked to him but Brock only had eyes for his brother.

“Seriously?” Levi asked.

“Now,” Brock rumbled and, again, within ten minutes of arrival, it was time for damage control and I got close to him, curling my hands on his arm and tugging.

“Leave it,” I whispered and his flashing, mercury eyes tipped down to me.

“Tess –”

I shook my head and gave his arm a squeeze. “The options available, have a brother who doesn’t give a shit or have a brother who does. You’re pissed now, honey, so you don’t get, with those options, you lucked out.”

Brock’s jaw got hard and I looked to Levi.

“I get it, your brother was fucked over, you care about him and you’re cautious. Thank you for being that way.”

Levi blinked at me.

I let Brock go and moved to Fern asking, “Now what can I do?”

Fern didn’t answer because she was committed to the act of glaring at her youngest son so Jill said, “You can help me lay the tables, Tess.”

I ignored the family tension and followed Jill’s lead setting the table.

On the way from dining table back to kitchen, I ran into Fritz, smiled at him but suddenly found my hand clasped in his and he got close.

When he did, he whispered, “Good play, Tess. This crew is tough to crack, twenty years and I gave them my two girls and sometimes, they get together, honest to God, I still feel like an outsider. But me and Austin, honey, we’ll have your back.”

Then before I could say a word, he squeezed my hand and headed to the door that I guessed led to the basement.

I watched even after he disappeared and I did it feeling a whole lot better.

This again lasted ten minutes. In that ten minutes, the good news was, Jill and I set the tables (plural because there were folding ones set up in the living room for the overspill), the men disappeared to watch TV, Fern got the sweet potato casserole in the oven, Laura and Elvira tackled the mountain of potatoes and they were on the stove, Kalie and Kellie had arranged my plethora of desserts on the side table in the dining room and were currently arranging my bouquet of flowers in a vase and Fern, Jill and Laura clearly had a good deal of experience with Levi loving them and leaving them and were inclusive and gentle with Lenore even though it was probably the last time they would see her.

The bad news was, after ten minutes of relative harmony, Ellie came in shrieking,

“Grandpa’s here! ”

The air in the room got thick as everyone in the room froze; Elvira and Lenore doing it just because they felt the vibe and had no idea that Ellie’s delighted shriek heralded Armageddon.

Then Elvira muttered a premonitory, “Oo lawdy, I’m thinkin’ family drama is far from over.”

“Uh…” Jill started, “Mom, we should have, um… Laura and me should have probably told you we invited Dad.”

Oh man!

“We thought that…” Laura began then hesitated, “well, it would be the kind of news better delivered at the last minute.”

My eyes flew to Elvira who had her hands full with shoving potato peels down the disposal, her eyes hit mine and her eyebrows hit her hairline.

Fern didn’t move. Fern was frozen. Fern was engaged in what fifteen seconds before was a thought she never thought she’d have and that was that she wanted to commit double homicide with her victims being her daughters.

“Grandpa’s here! Grandpa’s here! Grandpa’s here! ” Ellie shouted from the doorway then added, “Yippee!” then she raced away, shouting “Grandpa’s here!” in what I was guessing was on her way to the TV room.

Dylan filled the doorway next and he did it tugging on Cob’s hand. “Look!” he cried.

“Grandpa! Isn’t it cool? Grandpa hasn’t ever been to Thanksgiving!”

“Heya girls,” Cob said carefully to Jill, Laura and his granddaughters then his eyes came to me. “Heya Tess, honey.” Then they went to Lenore and Elvira in turn and he bowed his head slightly in greeting.

“Hey Dad,” Jill warily whispered.

That was when we heard, “What… the… fuck? ”

My eyes got big and my lower lip stretched out in an “eek!” look at Elvira as everyone turned to the door.

“What the fuck? ” This time it was shouted and I didn’t know him very well but I knew it was Levi.

“Dylan, honey, go get your sister and go outside and play,” Laura said urgently to her bewildered and somewhat frightened looking son who had his head tipped back and looking at someone in the hallway. “Now, honey, all you kids stay outside.” Dylan dazedly looked at his Mom and she repeated, “Now, baby.”

He let his grandfather’s hand go and dashed away.

Cob’s gaze slid through Jill and Laura, he cottoned onto the situation and then he turned to look down the hall.

“Now, Levi –” he started.

“Get the fuck out,” we heard.

“Levi –” Jill began, moving to the door.

“Get… the fuck… out!” Levi roared.

“Son –” Cob started again only to be cut off by Levi.

“I am not your son, you motherfucking asshole.”

Cob winced.

Oh man.

“Levi!” Laura snapped, also moving to the door but she didn’t need to.

Levi shoved passed his father and entered the kitchen, starting the wave that included Austin, Fritz and Brock but Brock settled just inside the doorway close to his father.

“Levi, cool it until the kids are outside,” he rumbled.

Levi scowled at his brother, visibly counted to ten then fifteen (and I was right along with him), we all heard the door close and then he let loose.

Turning to his sisters, he snarled, “You two are un-fucking-believable.”

“Careful, bud,” Fritz growled.

Levi swung to Fritz and declared, “Fuck that.”

This needed to play out but without the audience it had.

This was my decision therefore I whispered, “Kalie, Kellie, why don’t you guys, Lenore, Elvira and I go out and see what the kids are up to?”

“Good idea, Tess, this is a family situation,” Levi gritted at me.

Bad move.

Really bad move.

I knew this when Brock took two long strides to his brother and got toe-to-toe and nose-to-nose with him and the thick atmosphere became suffocating.

“Tess talked me down earlier and now I’m seein’ I shouldn’t have let her. You need to cool it or, honest to fuckin’ God, Levi, I’ll see that you do.”

“Do not bullshit me, Slim, you do not want that man here any more than I do,” Levi shot back, throwing out an arm and pointing at his father.

“You don’t know what I want,” Brock replied and Levi’s eyes narrowed.

“Fuck me, you? You are buyin’ this bullshit? Pretty convenient he sees the error of his ways when he’s got cancer eatin’ out his insides,” Levi returned scornfully.

I pressed my lips together, Laura made a noise like a whimper, Kalie moved so she was closer to Kellie and Fern decided she was done and I knew this because she said so.

And she did this with a whispered, “I’m done with this.”

Brock disengaged from the angry man stare down, turned and stepped to his brother’s side and all eyes turned to Fern.

Fern looked to Cob.

“This is my house and I say who’s welcome here. It’s Thanksgiving, Cob, and I’m sorry for you that you don’t know if you’ll have another one. But I’m happy for you to sit at the table with your family for this one. You didn’t give me much but you did give me the four most precious things in my life. For that, I can give you this.”

Okay, well, I pretty much liked Fern before.

Now I knew I really liked her.

Then she looked to Levi and kept talking.

“I love you, sweetheart, but you have to get that hate out of your gut or it’ll eat out your insides like the cancer is eating your father. And,” her eyes slid to Lenore then back to Levi,

“I’ll add it might be a good time for you to wake up.”

I felt eyes, looked to Elvira and saw her grinning at me.

Fern wasn’t done.

“Now, we’ve got dinner to finish off so go and watch your game and, I’ll tell you this,”

her eyes honed in on Levi, “it might be Cob’s last Thanksgiving with his family but that also means it might be his family’s last Thanksgiving with him. And we all should do what we can to make it a damned good memory because for my grandbabies out there, it’s gonna need to last awhile.”

No one said anything and no one moved.

So Fern went on, “Levi, can you do that for your sisters and your nieces and nephews?”

Levi didn’t answer. Levi stared at his mother for long moments before his eyes sliced through his sisters then he turned on his boot and walked out.

Fern sighed.

Cob said quietly, “Appreciate it, Fern.”

Her eyes went to him and she nodded.

Then she looked to her granddaughters and said softly, “That looks pretty, girls, put it in the middle of the dining room table, would you?”

Then she went to the stove to check the potatoes.

I looked to Brock in time to see him jerk his chin up at his father, pass him and turn in the same direction Levi went. Austin and Fritz guided Cob out.

Elvira came to me.

“Shoo, girl, big, ole, honkin’ W… T… F? Your bad boy’s family is whacked. Makes my brother with his skinny, skanky, natty-‘fro ‘ho and my sister with her inability to return that fabulous dress she borrowed without red wine stains seem tame.”

I didn’t think a ‘ho in the family was good news but definitely Brock’s family issues were more intense than a dress returned with wine stains.

“Um…” I mumbled. “Brock’s family is working through some issues.”

“Issues?” she asked, leaning back a bit then leaning back in to confide, “I knew it. Got me a premonition. Woke up and it said, ‘Thanksgivin’ with Tess’. Tellin’ you, girlfriend, this is better than TV.”

Well, it was good someone was enjoying themselves.

“I can’t wait to see what happens next,” she muttered then moved away and the away she moved was in the directions of the plethora of wine bottles on the counter.

I could. I could wait to see what would happen next.

And with what did, Elvira was probably not disappointed.