Unwrapping Liam by Lee Geneva

Author:Lee, Geneva [Lee, Geneva]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Westminster Press
Published: 2015-11-26T08:00:00+00:00

4

The turkey was laid in the middle of the table, its bare skin roasted golden brown, a gleaming knife at its side. I knew just how it felt. My mother, having had enough of awkward silence, had taken to producing a constant stream of chatter ranging from questionable facts about celebrities to country club gossip. I wanted to tell her that if she didn’t shut up she was going to be what the neighborhood was talking about in the morning. I could almost see the headlines: Mother smothered with roast turkey on Christmas Eve.

Liam sat across from me in a gray button down that made his usually bright eyes look stormy. His blonde hair was tousled artfully, which only served to remind me of how he looked right out of bed. But although he smiled, I could see it was strained. He was cracking under the stress, and it was getting worse with each passing second.

I had just raised my glass of wine when Tara said, “Maybe we should say a prayer?”

At the moment, I discovered someone could actually choke on a drink and spray it all over the table.

“Wh-what?” I gasped. “Oh God, don’t tell me you’ve been saved.”

Tara glared across the table, and I realized the carving knife was closer to her than it was to me.

"I thought it would be nice to take a moment to remember what we're thankful for this year." But instead of bowing her head, Tara reached for the turkey platter.

"Oh, that's easy enough," I said, watching as she sharpened the knife against the steel. "I'm thankful for kilts and waffles for breakfast and going to college two states away."

"How lovely, Jillian," Tara snapped. "I'm thankful for ungrateful daughters who act like porn stars on the bathroom counter." She'd begun to gesticulate wildly with the carving knife.

My father rose to his feet and took it from her. "Sit down, Tara."

"I don't need you to do this for me."

"You've made that clear," he said in a firm voice. "But I'd prefer not to spend the holidays in the emergency room."

Tara sunk into her chair, shoulders back, head held high, and peered at each of us as though daring any of us to challenge her authority. She'd placed herself as the head of the table, like a proper matriarch, which meant her gaze could reach each of us no matter how we sat in our chairs. There was no point to sulking, so I sat up straighter, matching her posture, and met her glare with a smile.

Liam cleared his throat beside me. "I'll say grace."

My eyes flashed to him. We'd discussed the subject of religion before and neither of us were into it. Of course, one could hope he was about to recite Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub in front of my mother. Dad looked to Liam gratefully and laid down the knife—out of reach of my mother.

Liam folded his hands and bowed his head. I stared at him until my father gestured that I should follow suit.

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