«not edited»
eccedentesiast (n) someone who only pretends to smile
[origin : neologism from combining latin roots]
hours later
thursday, november twenty third
thanksgiving morning, more like afternoon
I wake up fresh with a wide smile on my face. Today was Thanksgiving and dad and I were about to cook so much food to last us forever. It was our yearly ritual, to cook so much and eat amongst ourselves. I'd make lasagna and stuffed shells while dad would prepare stew beef and beans and rice. Along with that, we'd make chicken curry, rainbow cake, and I'd make my special parfaits. Hunter was coming and I don't know if dad invited anyone, so I'll dress formal just in case. I'll settle for something elegant and classy, but simplistic. My mind went wild with thoughts of what I'm going to need for all my dishes and what I was going to wear as I got up and made my bed, drawing open the curtains. And given that the house was like fricken 110°, I was definitely going a little more open with my outfit. I changed out of my pajamas into a pair of Nike shorts and a Prince and Fox t-shirt. I walked into my en suite to wash my face and brush my teeth. Once I was done, I grabbed my phone from the charging dock and headed downstairs, ready to spend the day listening to music and cooking with my dad.
§
"Where the hell is the damn ricotta?" I yell, my head buried in the fridge. Instead of answering, he says, "I don't like this song!" I pull my head out of the fridge immediately and turn to glare at my father.
"Excuse me?"
"I don't like this song," he said, looking up from the pot he was stirring and staring at me blankly.
"What's wrong with it," I ask just as blankly.
"It's too slow and quiet," he rolled his eyes.
"Well, now that I have your thoughts on indie and alternative music, I'm not changing it," I reply, shrugging and turning to look back in the fridge. What was I looking for again? Oh yes, ricotta for the lasagna, don't tell me we have none. I look for five more minutes, five whole minutes, to find the stupid container. In the very back of the damn drawer!
———
Three hours later and my father and I had foil pan after foil pan sitting on the counter, there was baked chicken, beans and rice, ceviche, stew beef, chicken curry, lasagna, Alfredo pasta with shrimp, and for dessert, we already made — well I made — summer berry parfaits with vanilla bean ricotta and toasted almonds, rainbow cookies, chocolate mousse, rasmali, pumpkin pie, and rosé moscato cheesecake.
My dad also made some Russian dishes: pelmeni, borscht, pirozhki, and honey cakes. It was 3:30 now — and to think my dad's been cooking since nine and I since twelve thirty — and I know Hunter was coming around six. I need to go take a damn long shower and wash my hair like fifty times. But I still had to make the stuffed shells and the pastel de tres leches. Shit.
"Adri, how about you go take a shower and then come back and make the shells and cake while I finish up?" Dad suggested.
"Okay, sure," I said as I dried the last dish and put it away. I was gonna need the time for myself.
"Oh, and dress fancy, I have someone coming over," he yelled as I was already halfway up the stairs. Damnit, my mind yelled and I almost laughed and how I expected this to happen.
«««»»»
One hour. I took one whole hour in the shower and now I was fearing my hair would smell of food again while preparing the shells and cake. Wonderful.
I pulled on my undergarments — only a white lace bikini — since the dress I pulled out had a thick padding that was like a bra already, or something like that? It was a white dress, there was a slit from my hip to bottom of the dress, exposing my left leg and the back was as good as backless, stopping at my waist with a thin strap making an 'x.' And since we wear shoes in the house — cause that's totally normal?— I slipped on rose gold heels so the gown wouldn't graze the ground.
I went for a natural look, only using mineral powder, a layer of highlighter on my face and painting my lips with a matte nude lipstick. As for my hair, I dried it with my towel and brushed out the knots, splitting it in the middle.
Walking into the kitchen, it was empty, and clean, my father leaving no trace whatsoever of what we had spent the previous hours doing. And he wasn't there, probably upstairs showering. The food was all packed nicely in foil pans, glass pans, on the counter top that separated the kitchen and living room.
I put on my indie alternative playlist, plugging my phone into the charger. It was 5:37 now and I've settled on the fact that there was no way in hell I was finishing before our guests. Oh well! I put on a pot of water to boil, emptying the shells from the box and as soon as the water was boiling, I threw in the shells and started working on the Ragu sauce and getting out the ground beef and spinach I had already prepared prior along with the shredded cheeses I was going to use.
I set that aside and started working on the cake. I got out a large baking pan along with the cake mix and the three milks. I put the second oven to preheat — since we had a double wall oven — and began to beat the eggs and sugar, baking powder, milk, and powder extract. Once I was done, I had to set that aside and rush to the stove to take it off and strain the shells. And god help me, but I don't know whose dumbass idea it was to invent glass stovetops because it is by far the most damn annoying thing I have ever used!
I leave the shells to drain and go back to the cake, pouring the batter in a glass pan and going to make the batter once again because I was making two trays. As I was beating the eggs, my father came down dressed in a crisp charcoal suit, maroon dress shirt, and sleek black tie. And of course his head was bent low, his eyes glued to his phone.
"Goddamnit," I practically scream in frustration once I realized I threw the whisk in the sink. My patience was running low and Hunter and whoever my dad invited would arrive soon. I was practically rushing now, and cursing out every chance I got because if you didn't know, it is almost impossible to keep a white dress clean while cooking. I look over at my dad — who I had momentarily forgotten was even here — and his eyes were already on me, he was stifling his laughs.
"Yes," I growl out and huff.
"No, no, please keep going, don't stop on my account," he actually laughed this time. My life is a joke.
"And Adri?"
"Hm?" I stopped what I was doing and looked over at him.
"You look beautiful, just like your mother. I love you Adri, and I'm absolutely grateful and blessed to have you as my daughter," he smiled just as soft as he spoke and I walk over to him, throwing my hands around him.
"I love you too dad, and I truly could not have asked for a better father."
The bell rang and I groan in my father's chest.
"You distracted me. Now I'm really not going to finish," I whine.
"That sounds like your problem, I'm going to get the door," he laughed and pulled away. I groan and seriously ask myself why? Why'd I wake up so late? Why'd I choose to cook so much?
I wash the whisk and mix the batter some more before pouring it in the glass and then taking both pans to the oven.
"Hunter! My favorite child!" I hear my dad's voice.
"Kill yourself dad!" I yell from the kitchen.
"Ooh, she's feisty. A mi me gusta," Hunter yelled loud enough for me to hear.
"Shoot yourself Hunter!" I yell back.
"What's up with her ass," he asked, purposely being loud enough so I could hear and I decided to stay quiet before I ripped his head off.
"She's done showered and ready for dinner, wearing a white dress, yet she still has to finish making stuffed shells and the pastel de tres leches," my dad said with a laugh. The audacity.
"That sounds like a personal problem," Hunter said nonchalantly.
"I'm going to kill you! Oh my god," I scream in exasperation.
Hunter and my dad walked in the kitchen as I was stuffing the shells, alternating one shell with spinach and cheese and the other shell with ground beef and cheese. I huffed dramatically as I felt both of their eyes on me, waiting for me to breakdown and scream and curse. I was a comedy show waiting to happen, literally.
Another hour later, after much banter and foolery between the three of us, the pastel de tres leches was finished and the stuffed shells were about to end in a few minutes. I wiped my hands on the hand towel and I was all done.
"I need to go into retirement," I sighed as I sat down on the island counter and looked at my best friend and father.
"From what," Hunter asked, narrowing his eyes, "You're not even eighteen and you don't work honey."
"Sir, that's where you're wrong," I shot back at him, "I work at a coffee shop and a surf shop, and I catered from 12:30 to 7 today."
"Today is a holiday, ma'am, in which you cooked for your family. It doesn't count," he argued.
"Okay, you are actually impossible," I stated blankly.
The bell rang, and I got out of the bar stool to get the door, the argument between Hunt and I forgotten.
I open the door with a wide smile and welcomed him inside before closing the door and turning around to head back into the kitchen.
"Holy shit," I freeze in my spot, steps away from the kitchen door, and turn to look back at our guest. My jaw dropped.
"No way in hell," I whisper and he had on his signature smirk.
"Dad," I said through gritted teeth, "You invited Phoenix Worthington? For dinner?" I ask in incredulity.
"Um, yes?" He said rather nervously behind me.
"Who in hell gave you that idea," I whined. I looked over at Phoenix and his eyes were already on me, raking all over my body, but something was off about him. He was missing that certain brooding aura that scared everyone and he looked like he had given up in life. I watched as his eyes turned shades darker and he inhaled sharply. I took the time to look over his body too, he was dressed in a Tom Ford tuxedo and I caught the glint of his Bvlgari watch on his left hand.
I hadn't even noticed he walked up to me and he lightly rested his arm on my lower back, pulling me into his chest so that our bodies were aligned.
"Tu as l'air belle, étoile filante," he whispered and I closed my eyes, resting my head in the crook of his neck.
Weren't you just wondering why the fuck he was here, a voice snapped in my head.
His fingertips lightly graced my exposed back and it felt like goddamn lightening crackling against my skin. I shivered lightly in his arms and I wanted him to never stop. But sadly, he pulled away and softly kissed me on my cheek.
"How lovely to see you tonight, Adrianna," he said in a smooth, alluring voice. He walked up to Hunter and they did a very stiff bro hug and then he settled for giving my father a handshake. I could not take my eyes away from him, he was drool worthy attractive, especially tonight, he literally screamed sexy.
The timer on the oven broke me out of my trance and my eyes locked with Hunter, who was already looking at me skeptically. Fucking wonderful. My eyes flickered over to my dad's and I practically saw the wedding bells going off in his head. God, if you're up there, please help me survive the night.
We crowded in the kitchen, dipping into each tray and helping ourselves to whatever we pleased. And then we went to the dinner table. My dad took a seat first and Hunter's stupid ass practically ran to grab the seat next to him. I must surely be in hell right? So that left Phoenix and I, I sat across from Hunter, shooting a glare his way, and Phoenix sat next to me, across from my dad. My heart can't beat any fucking faster can it? I asked rhetorically in my head. My heart was beating wildly in my chest, I was more nervous of the fact that Phoenix might hear it. Someone kill me already.
My dad started off dinner with saying his thanks, Hunter went next, then Phoenix, and lastly, I went. And then we dug in. A moan fell from Phoenix's lips as he tasted god knows what and God forgive me, it instantly turned me on.
"Who made the lasagna?" He asked through his stuffed mouth. What a sight to see.
"I did," I said with a shy voice. For fucks sakes, really?
"Where could you have learned to cook like this? It's absolutely delectable," he said, turning his head to look at me once his mouth was empty.
"Adri's loved being in the kitchen from a very young age. She picked up habits from watching us until she was finally old enough to cook on her own," my dad answered for me while I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing away too painful memories that were threatening to resurface. I looked over at Phoenix and saw the question clear as day in his eyes, what about your mother? I bit my lip, hard, I was sure I was drawing blood. There was just no way I was going to answer that question without breaking down. Thanksgiving was my mother's favorite holiday, she went all out on this day every year.
"Adri, the Alfredo is really good," Hunt said softly, trying to rid the awkward tension. The awkward tension I created.
"Thank you," I said softly. We ate in silence after that, but not the uncomfortable type of silence, it was the silence you welcomed in your presence. It was calm and it was enough to put a small smile on your face all whilst you were left to your own devices. Hunter's phone went off, breaking the silence and he glanced down at his phone, a growl leaving his lips.
"Trouble in idyll?" I ask with a smirk on my face.
"Adrianna, I love you really, but fuck you," he said through gritted teeth, picking up his phone and typing away mindlessly. He set his phone down and not a second passed that it went off again. He picked it up and glared down at it before setting it down again. And once again, it went off again in less than a second.
"Oh my god," he groaned, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling, "I might actually kill myself with this dinner knife." I just laughed, knowing the exact reason behind his pain.
"Am I missing something here," Dad asked skeptically.
"No, nothing much dad," I stated cheekily, "Except for the fact that Hunter has a fiancé," I finished, laughing obnoxiously.
"Adri," Hunter whined, covering his face with his hands.
"Excuse me? A fiancé? Since when Hunter? And with who?"
"I don't know, some time ago? It's against my fucking will, an arranged marriage, if you will, with Rosé fucking Dannhauser," he stated calmly, but you could hear the underlying tone of anger. Before my dad could reply, his phone went off, ringing this time and I could've swore my best friend was about to cry. I burst out laughing, quite loudly, that I was tearing up.
"This is some hell I would never wish upon anyone," he muttered before answering.
"Hello Rosé," he said calmly, "How are you," pause, "love," he forced out the endearment and I mouthed 'oh my god' before I started to hyperventilate from laughing silently.
"I'm at my best friends house trying to fucking enjoy Thanksgiving dinner, if you have a problem, kindly fuck off," he growled out, ending the call and slamming his phone on the table. My jaw dropped and I just stared at him wide eyed.
"What the hell did the bitch say? She's about to catch these Russian hands," I questioned, getting pissed. I loved making fun of Hunter, but he's my best friend, no one messes with that.
"You mean those tiny Russian hands," he teased, a smile breaking out on his face once again.
I rolled my eyes, "Listen, I was here, trying to be your best friend, about to beat up a bitch for you, but you ruined it, I am now unavailable."
"Adriii," he dragged my name, "No, come back."
"Too late."
"I love you?" He said in a questioning tone like he was unsure.
"Oh and now you're questioning your love for me? Okay I guess we're no longer best friends."
"What the hell?" My dad muttered and it took everything in me not to laugh.
"Adri," he frowned. I shrugged and looked at my white painted nails with a smile.
I stole a glance at Phoenix and he had a desolate look on his face, his eyes were empty and dull, lifeless almost. He pushed the food around his plate as if he had no appetite any longer and he he ate it slowly. He was completely lost in his thoughts and it was clear as crystal he wasn't actually here with us.
I looked back down at my plate and took a pelmeni in my mouth, chewing and about to swallow, when I started choking. My dad's eyes along with Hunter's widened as I started drinking water like my life depended on it. I am going to fucking kill Phoenix. He hand rested on my exposed thigh and I cursed myself for wearing this dress because of the slit.
"I'm okay," I coughed and looked down on my lap. His hand rested on my upper thigh, particularly close to my wet and probably dripping pussy. And I was like this because of him. I continued coughing and his hand left my thigh and went to my back, knocking it lightly, "Relax Adrianna," came his deep voice.
"I'm okay, I'm okay," I said quietly once I calmed down. While I avoided my dad's eyes, Hunter eyed me closely and I just could not ignore him, so I scowled at him, mouthing 'don't fucking ask.' His hand left my back and went right back on thigh, resting closer to my pussy than before. I was trying hard, very hard, to act like a normal person, but when he started rubbing small circles on my skin, I wasn't sure I knew what normal was anymore. I crossed my leg over the other and hit his hand lightly in a subtle manner, but it's not like it did much, his hand was like a brick against my small, delicate one.
We finished dinner and we got out the dessert. My dad and I brought out the parfaits, rasmali, pumpkin pie, and cheesecake and we all took a share of it all. And then my dad brought out the rosé champagne.
"I wanna pop the cork," I practically yell and jump out of my seat with a smile, and my dad chuckled softly, handing over the bottle to me. I pulled off the wire wrapping and then pushed off the cork with my thumb, the bottle resonating with a loud pop. We were all in laughs and smiles as I poured four glasses and then sat down, getting started on my parfait, relishing in the glacé taste. We were all relaxed in our seats, talking among ourselves. It wasn't until our plates were as good as empty that my dad stood up from his chair with a sober look.
"Phoenix, a word," he said in a pressing tone and walked off in the direction of his office, not waiting.
"Sure thing, Colten," Phoenix muttered, getting up and leaving his napkin on the table before walking off.
———
damn, phoenix was really about to get into that downtown sephora ;)