Dead Flowers | H.S.

Chapter Thirty

"Could you pass the potatoes, Jane?"

It was strange being home. Strange sitting in my usual seat beside my brother and passing the potatoes to Maureen, whom was so pregnant that she had to sit further away from the table than the rest of us. Strange that everybody was getting along and the food was good and my mother had even let me choose a record to spin during Thanksgiving dinner.

I handed the bowl of mashed potatoes to Maureen for her third serving.

"So, tell us more about this road trip," my father said, cutting into his slice of turkey.

Eugene, still with glasses perched on his nose and arms skinny like sticks, ate while he spoke. He talked about all the motels they stayed in and all the sights they saw and how they never really made it to a destination; not like there was one, anyway. He said that Maureen figured out she was pregnant just a few days after they saw the Grand Canyon. They got married a few days later, in a drive-thru wedding chapel somewhere in Vegas. Maureen wore a black wedding dress.

"Have you thought of any names?" My mother excitedly turned to Maureen.

Maureen smiled, exchanged a loving glance with Eugene, then let her docile hands rest on her bump.

"We'll announce the name the day Jr is born," Eugene said for Maureen, giving my mother a mischievous smile.

My mother rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair with a smile that matched my brother's. I hadn't ever seen her so lively. It was intriguing.

"Well, I see how it is. You're waiting to announce that the baby will be named after me!"

There was an uproar of laughter and it was like I had walked into a photo in a magazine; one of the Kraft ads that showed a happy, healthy family sitting down to a dinner of artificial cheese and undercooked noodles. This was not my family; it was better.

I ate and watched my family's interactions. I watched my mother smile at my father in a way that was flirtatious and girly, like they were teenagers again. I watched Maureen lovingly feel her baby through her skin, saw the red in her cheeks. I watched my father and Eugene agree over a topic I didn't care to listen in to.

I saw my family before me, the family is wanted to badly to be apart of, and an overwhelming ache flooded my being.

When the phone rang during dessert, I was the first to rise.

"I'll get it," I whispered, setting my fork down. Nobody moves or paused their conversation.

"Hughes residence," I answered, leaning against the wall.

I stared at my reflection against the glass windows in the kitchen, waiting for somebody to speak on the other line, but nobody did.

"Hello? Anybody there?" I began pushing and plucking my hair until it was the right shape again.

Still, there was silence on the other end of the phone. Between the dead air and the lively conversation in the background, I did not care if somebody really was on the phone or not. I was complacent where I was against the wall, phone to my ear and hand on my hip.

"I'll give you a minute before I hang up," I warned, but did not really mean it. I would stand there for the rest of time if it meant I could be in between a stranger and my family.