Whipped Cream and Thanksgiving

All she had to do was survive three hours. Just three. Macy was better than this. Dinner at her house usually ended in verbal sparring, passive aggressive comments, and the occasional fistfight. But this year would be different. Well, Macy couldn’t speak for her family members, but she would at least try harder. Macy wanted to enjoy her first thanksgiving back from college. She’d only been at college a few months and she was honestly missing her family.

Okay, she was missing some of her family.

The old, oak stairs leading to the front door creaked as Macy walked up to them. She pulled out her key and unlocked the door. A rush of sound welcomed her. She sucked in a deep breath. She could totally do this…right?

Macy forced herself into the house and walked towards the kitchen. The epicenter of the noise.

The room was packed. Her aunts and uncles were yelling out the best ways to cook a turkey, her dad was shouting that they were wrong. Her young cousins were running around tipping chairs or asking if lunch was ready yet. The older cousins were on their phones or else trying to stack all the glassware on the table. And lastly her sisters were, shockingly, already arguing. 

Carmen was the oldest, she was twenty-two. The bossiest and most passive aggressive of them all. Next was Pistol. Her real name was Ann but apparently that wasn’t sophisticated enough. Pistol was always looking for the new ‘cool’ and then shaming her sisters for not fitting in. She was twenty. Then herself, Macy, at eighteen and not exactly a peacemaker. She had a younger brother Joseph, who she actually liked. He was fifteen.

Home, sweet home.

“Oh! Love, your home! Girls! Macy’s here!” Macy sighed. Her mom liked to pretend that she and her sisters were still the best friends that made lemonade stands. But there was a reason they went to colleges in all different states.

Her sisters' heads turned to her almost in unison. Pistol plastered on a fake smile, but it died quickly when she got a full look of Macy’s outfit. Carmen didn’t bother with a smile in the first place.

“Uh, Macy, you aren’t actually going to wear that, right,” Pistol asked, skeptically. Let the passive aggressive warfare begin.

“Well, I didn’t bring another secret bag of clothes with me so, yes, this is what I’m wearing.” Pistol made a ‘hmmm’ sound in the back of her throat. 

Macy couldn't help it. She looked self-consciously down at her clothes. Okay, so maybe the jeans skirt was a little too long and the leggings had a bit too many holes. And the T-shirt with scarf combo was a little too…exciting. But it wasn't that bad. Pistol was just being Pistol.

“Gee, Tolly, starting the mockery a little early are we,” Carmen said, eyes flashing. “I mean, gosh, it must have been five whole seconds.” Carmen’s eyes were deep black. And as glossy as her thick brown hair which Macy was convinced Carmen poured bottles of gel on it each morning.

“Oh, my goodness! You know it's Pistol! Not Ann, not Tolly, not-”

“Girls,” mom said, looking surprised. Like this wasn’t what happened. Every. Single. Time. “Be nice! You’ll set a bad example for your younger brother!”

Carmen snorted. “It's a little late for him. He’s already a little…unsatisfactory. Maybe worry about the cousins.” Joseph made it his personal mission to annoy Carmen in every aspect possible. Which was half the reason Macy liked him so much. Though Macy would never admit it, Carmen scared her a little.

“Carmen! Do not speak to your mother that way,” dad said entering the kitchen. Carmen just rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, Car. Respecting your elders is so in, right now.” Macy didn’t catch Carmen’s response, pleasant as it would probably be, as she was slowly backing out of the room. Her back hit something and she heard somebody give an ‘Oof’.

“Oop, sorry, May.” Macy recognized the voice and smiled. Someone she was actually excited to see. She spun around and gave Joseph a tight hug. His floppy hair ruffled against her shoulder.

“I’m guessing things went well,” Joseph said, though his voice was muffled. “Would you mind letting me go, I kinda have to breathe.” 

“Mm-mm. Nope.” She’d missed him so much. She missed hearing him playing piano at the crack of dawn (she missed the music, not the timing). She missed watching him calm down her sisters (he was the peacemaker), she missed watching him getting excited over his science projects, and she especially missed how she could talk to him so easily. No darker meanings, no harsh words, just friendly conversation.

“If I let go some other family member will talk to me and I do not have the energy for that right now.”

“Yeah, but if I suffocate, you’ll have to pay for my coffin and you're a poor college student.”

“Fair enough,” she said, finally letting go. She looked him up and down. “You’ve gotten taller.”

“That's what happens when you ditch me for four months,” Joseph said. He shoved his hair out of his eyes.

“You need a haircut.”

“Why does everyone say that! Just because I don’t have it buzzed doesn't mean-”

“Okay, okay! Come on, I know you want to show me how much you've improved over the last few months,” she said, tugging him towards the piano by the arm.

“I mean, since you asked, I do have a little something prepared.” Macy rolled her eyes. He’d probably practiced this for countless hours.

Joseph got a few notes in before a storm of complaints came from the other room.

“Turn it down!”

“Stop messing around and come help!”

“Joseph Timothy Roberts, you get in here right now!” Joseph sighed. Macy frowned. Teasing aside, she really did like to hear Joe play.

Macy and Joseph traipsed into the kitchen. Joseph spotted the overflowing sink and immediately began washing dishes. Macy looked for a place to hide.

“Bring these to the table Macy!” Macy took the mashed potatoes from mom and walked to the table. Unfortunately, there was still a pile of glass dishware on top of it. 

“Er, hey guys,” Macy said. All her teenage cousins looked around at her. The giggling and talking died. Not awkward at all. “Yeah, can you just put the plates at each seat? You know, how plates usually go. We’re trying to set the table.” The boys looked mutinous, and the girls looked vaguely annoyed. Why, oh, why did she come here?

“Fine, whatever,” said one of the boys. Shane or something? He started to toss the plates into place with such force that she winced. Her mom loved these dishes. And if one was cracked or broken, she was likely to have a meltdown. But Macy didn’t have the energy to confront them this time. 

The table slowly filled with various casseroles, pies, meats, and rolls. As the mealtime drew near the level of noise and aggression got larger. Macy took three deep breaths. She just had to survive two hours at the table. Then she could leave and take a very, very long shower back at her dorms.

“Sissy! Your aroha is not matching this room at all,” Pistol said walking in.

“Aroha? That's a big word, did you have to look it up ‘sissy’,” Carmen said, walking in after her.

“Hey, guys! I, uh, didn’t see you come in. What's up,” Joseph said, coming from the opposite door.

“Did you not see us because you were hiding or because you were preparing some sort of pie catapult for me under the table,” Carmen snapped at him. Joseph winced slightly and walked past Macy to help Aunt May carry in some rolls. On his way he mouthed to her ‘Both’. Macy smirked. That kid was going to get himself killed one day.

The time finally came and the whole family was seated at the table. They began to eat. Macy got one bite of her mother's famous mashed potatoes in, they were fantastic, before Carmen turned on her.

“So, are you going to tell us what you plan on doing with your life,” she sneered at Macy. Ah, sisterly love.

“Ugh, Cay-cay! Could you maybe find a deeper question to ask first? Like, sister dear, if a bear was attacking me would you help,” Pistol interjected.

Don’t react.

Don’t react.

Just eat.

Breath.

“Aw. So sweet, keeping baby sister safe from scary questions?”

“Babies are supposed to be cute,” Pistol turned to Macy. “No offense.” Yeah, and you're supposed to be a Hollywood star by now, but it looks like no one’s getting what they want. Macy thought but didn’t say. 

“Whatever,” Macy said.

“Nice, letting your big sister cover up for the fact that you have no plans? Just going to go home and live with mommy and daddy when you drop college?” Carmen’s eyes glittered maliciously. 

“I would tame the bear and keep him as a pet,” Joseph said, randomly. He pulled the bowl of mashed potatoes closer to him and started to fill his plate. Carmen raised an eyebrow at him.

“Having delusions already, baby brother?”

“Pistol asked a good question,” Joseph said without turning. “Sister dear, if a bear was attacking me would you help. I was just answering the question.” He shrugged, nonchalantly. “Oh, and please don’t call me baby brother, Cay-cay.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Carmen finally turned away. The meal went more smoothly after that. And there was only one fistfight.

They were just getting the pies out when Carmen let out a shriek. Whipped cream was all over her face and cherries were sliding out from her hair. There seemed to be some sort of wooden contraption under the table.

“You actually were making a pie catapult under the table,” Carmen screamed. Joseph made a “who me” face that convinced no one. But before he could get dismembered everyone started laughing.

“That is so in right now Joey,” Pistol giggled. Macy gave him a high five. People were scooping up handfuls of whipped cream and throwing it. But the most unexpected part of all was when Carmen sighed, reached over to Joseph and ruffled his hair. Before she pulled him into a hug and covered in whipped scream.

“I missed you buddy.” Macy couldn’t stop smiling.

The whipped cream fiasco took forever to clean up. Eventually the only ones left were Pistol, Carmen, Mom, herself, and Joe.

“Mom, I told you we need to get that new mop thing,” Pistol was saying. Mom just shook her head dismissively. 

“Joe, you need to get to bed,” Mom said.

“But mom! Its only ten!”

“Say goodnight to your sisters.”

“Ugh. Fine.” He walked over to Macy and gave her a squeeze. “You’ll visit tomorrow, right?”

“First thing in the morning.”

“Second thing,” Carmen said unexpectedly. 

“What?”

“I was wondering…” Carmen looked a little sheepish. Carmen. 

“...if you want to meet up to have breakfast or whatever,” Pistol finished. Macy thought she might actually be having a stroke. Before her mind caught up to what was happening, she answered.

“Why not.”

The end.