Thanksgiving with the Mayor: A Romantic Comedy Holiday Short Story by Mabie M

Author:Mabie, M. [Mabie, M.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2019-11-20T16:00:00+00:00

5

Nag. Nag. Nag.

Instead of torturing myself any longer, I waddled inside to see if I could help my mom with the table. After retreating to the house, I asked her, “Is it almost done yet? What can I do?”

Sometime, between switching pans in the oven and scrubbing the entire kitchen, she’d cleaned up and fixed her hair.

Pulling the foil off the bird, she answered, “Go in the dining room and tell the Black Friday Hell’s Angles that dinner is almost ready. Their hen party can hit the family room. I need that table.” Her ornery smile beamed at me as she blew me a kiss. “Please, Lena.”

The female horde was not going to be happy, and I’d put her in a home someday for that one, but I did what I was told.

I made the announcement from the doorway to the dining room, which had been converted into Bargain Strategy Central. “Hey guys, Mom needs the table. It’s about time to eat.”

My aunts and my grandma barely noticed or acknowledged I was there.

Laughing at how seriously they took their deals, I reiterated, “Hey. Yo. Move it or lose it. I’m starving. Don’t make me get the leaf blower.” I was starving, but mostly ready to get the weird day behind me.

“You’re just like your cranky mother,” my Aunt Marcy said and wrinkled her nose at me. “No fun at all.”

I tried to help stack the papers they had scattered around the oak table, but my grandma smacked my hand away. “Don’t you even think about it,” she warned. “We’re moving. Don’t you dare touch a thing.”

Don’t touch. That was becoming a common theme in my universe.

Leave the dip alone.

Don’t mess up the sale ads.

Don’t jump your sister’s boyfriend on the workbench by the lawnmower.

Nag. Nag. Nag.

When I could trust they were actually moving, I went back in the kitchen where it smelled like heaven. “Now what?” I asked for further instruction.

“Go get the drunks from the garage. And, was that Katie’s boyfriend I saw earlier?”

Not for long. Soon, he’d just go back to being the guy who tied her eldest daughter to the rod in her apartment closet and pounded her while wearing a Santa hat last Christmas Eve.

I wondered, what if I wanted more than just sex? It was becoming clearer how much I despised the mere thought of him being with anyone else. Especially having firsthand witnessed such a thing. It wasn’t right.

They didn’t get him like I did.

No one else was going to know how he liked his balls cupped or that he liked a little too much tongue in his ear. Nobody else was going to break into his apartment and set his DVR to record Game of Thrones for him when his car broke down on the turnpike. There damn sure wasn’t another woman on the planet who would be willing to wear a mermaid tail and red wig. They’d run screaming from his weird-ass Little Mermaid roleplay thing.

“I’m pretty sure they’re just friends. I’ll

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