The night is dazzling and uneventful from afar, but inside every home are families gathering to give thanks. Thanksgiving never appealed to me for reasons that are unknown. Truth be told, my favorite part is sitting at the table and adding more food to my plate. Of course, being grateful for everything that has come my way and the health of those beloved to me matters, but I am thankful every day—what makes today any different?
"Theodore!" my mother yells from the kitchen. "Come join me."
I stare at myself in the large mirror leaning on the wall. The Theo that is locked inside the glass is wearing a black tuxedo with a red tie—a pretty basic attire for a holiday.
I flatten the tie over my chest, patting it smoothly. With that, I head out the door to meet with my mother.
However, she is not alone.
A lady with dark blonde, almost brown, hair rests by her side. She is wearing a golden jumpsuit with silver high heels. As soon as her eyes lay on me, she smiles widely in remembrance and joy.
"Momma!" I run up to her, wrapping my arms around her thin waist.
She hugs me back, kissing my curls. "Hey, handsome."
I look up at her, forest green eyes staring right down at me as if I am might disappear any second. She then glances at my mother, removing an arm from me to leave extra space. "Are you not going to join us?" she asks.
My mom joins my momma, wrap me and her into a much-needed contact. At this moment, this exact instant, I come to realize how much I've missed the three of us together. Years back, we would be unbelievably inseparable, as if a thousand strings were wrapped around one another, tying us as one.
"It is nice seeing you again, Diane," my mom says, letting her go. "How is back in the city?" She heads to the stove and pulls down the lid. White smoke comes from the inside, unleashing a tasteful scent of well-seasoned turkey.
Momma takes a seat on the counter, dropping her keys and phone on the countertop. "Pretty good," she responds. "Found a new, spacious home."
As they speak, I plop on a couch and turn on the TV. Charlie Brown is playing—a Thanksgiving special. "Mom," I say, pulling out a wedgie, "aren't these trousers a bit too tight."
"Don't exaggerate," she says. "They fit perfectly."
Momma nods her head. "They make your butt look perky."
I start laughing, ignoring the TV, and joining them in the kitchen. "More reasons for me to change," I tell them. "Can I take them off and put them back on once Harvey is coming to pick me up?"
Momma tilts her head to the side. "That Harvey boy is your boyfriend, isn't he?" she says.
"Let me guess," I say, glancing at my mom. "She gave you the news."
Mom winks at me, enough of a response.
I look back at my momma, shaking my head. "Harvey is not my boyfriend," I correct her. "Any interaction I have with the male species is enough to convince my mother that I am in a romantic relationship."
The two chuckle, aware that I am far from wrong.
"I am glad that you are finally making some friends," momma says, resting a hand over mine.
I grab candy corn from the bowl resting in the counter and plop it into my mouth. "I've always had friends."
Mom closes the stove and joins us at the counter with three glass cups and a bottle of wine. "Really?" she says, pouring the crimson liquid into two of the three cups.
"Yes," I reply.
She heads to the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of cranberry juice before pouring it on the third glass. "Like who?"
I mention the first—and only—name that comes to my mind: "Mrs. Mills."
She slides the glass with the cranberry juice to me. "I am referring to those near your age, Theo."
"No need," I tell her, taking a sip from the liquid sourness. "Mrs. Mills might be a little older than me, but she spares me from the teenage drama."
"You can come with me," momma offers.
There is a sudden silence in the room, especially coming from my mom.
Momma shrugs, holding the wine on her hand. "You can make new friends over there," she explains herself. "They always talk to the new boy."
"Being the new boy again?" I say, trying to divert the conversation. "I don't know about that."
"Think about it, T." She takes a sip. "A fresh start."
"Diane," mom snaps at her, suppressing her frustration. "We promised not to bring this up today."
Momma sighs loudly. "You get to keep him and I don't?"
"It's not about that," she says. "You can visit him at any time you want."
Momma snorts, shaking her head. "It's not enough, Martha," she says. "All I want is to have my son with me."
My mom places a hand on my shoulder. "You do."
I gulp, feeling uneasy on the stomach. Them speaking like this brings back memories I've been drowning for many years now. My heart is thumping loudly on my chest, like a stereo that vibrates when the volume is too high.
"How about you feel what I feel every day, Martha, huh?" momma snaps back.
"I'm— I'm heading back to my room," I barely mutter, getting off the stool.
"You are not taking him away from me, Diane."
I can still hear them as I close my bedroom door behind me. Their voices rising higher and then lowering after realizing that I might hear. Little do they know that their words are still audible even if speaking to a faint whisper.
I look down at my hands, watching them slightly tremble. I close them to a grip and begin to take deep, slow breaths.
Deep.
Slow.
Breaths.
I open my eyes and the first thing I glimpse at is my phone resting over my bed. Maybe if I join Harvey right now I will be able to spend more time with Oscar. . .
I unlock my phone and send him a quick text. It only takes him seconds to reply back, letting me know that he'll be here in a few minutes. With that, I curl in my bed and wait for him to pick me up.
____
A\N: Like and comment for more! FYI: I love reading comments.