You Aren't A Guest

She trudged to another family's door. 

Another? 

No, not quite right. It was a family she had long since earned. Earned? 

No, not quite right yet again. The precise angle would have to be shown later, as her husband nudges her on gently to see his family. His family.

 Ah, the woes of a bride. Perhaps it wasn't enough that she has become a guest at her own parents' house, but this time too, she was merely a visitor. Now that she carried another man's name to her own, she felt like an outcast from her family. However, even bearing his name didn't change much for her either. 

Two families. 

Two sides of one coin. 

She felt like an outsider to both — a person who didn't have a place in either. Was her only refuge the house she shared with her husband? Was that the only place she belonged to?

"Love," a gentle baritone voice called out. "Everyone's waiting."

"Oh," I snapped back to reality. "I'll be right there."

I didn't even realize that I hadn't stepped in earlier until my husband noticed so.

"Come in! Come in! Ooh, you've grown more beautiful, Blanca!" an enthusiastic voice that embraced youth that honestly didn't fit in welcomed the couple. "And you, Nathan! Have you been treating dearie Blanca well? You should be! Otherwise, it won't end well for you! I didn't raise a son who can't keep a woman!"

I laughed awkwardly alongside Nathan. I sighed at the thought that mother-in-law hasn't changed much, still such... a ball of sunshine. Other members of the family started to give their greetings. 

I, of course, replied in kind. 

It seems we were the last ones to arrive. Some of them — mostly kids, were already gathered around the table, impatiently waiting to feast upon the sumptuous spread of dishes to satiate their hunger.

"Hapwi Tenksgibwing Auntie Blanca!" one child told me so with a hearty smile.

I knelt to her height, showing a calm smile while patting her head as I gave her my thanks.

Who was this kid again? 

No, seriously, I can't remember! Aagh! I'm a failure as a human being! Why can't I still memorize their names! I feel so bad!

As I finished greeting my nieces and nephews one by one, the adults decided to start the occasion with a toast (juice for the kids obviously) to celebrate Thanksgiving Day.

This whole scenario feels nostalgic. I used to celebrate Thanksgiving Day with my family. The simple joys of preparing for the holiday, stuffing the turkey, eagerly waiting for other family members to arrive, and just doing random stuff. But now, I am the one who comes to visit. 

Ah.

What am I forgetting again? No, I swear it's not the names this time! I'm relatively sure it was something I did not look forward to even as a child. Ah, bother, I should enjoy the occasion with them.

It was indeed a lot of fun — or 'entertaining' as would adults say. As we ate (and stuffed ourselves), the family talked about a lot of things. On a rare chance such as this servant, we talked among ourselves nonchalantly, sharings news and gossips and other holiday starter pack thing.

I enjoyed myself, as they did too. However, an uncomfortable feeling started to arise. I didn't understand. I guess it started when the kids began to feel sleepy and separated themselves from the adults to the living room to doze off.

Agh, there's no use, no use! I have no clue! Just then, they started to appear apprehensive. As if something grand was supposed to happen. They began to feel, pretentious to me. Uh, and what's with this atmosphere? They look almost as if they were going to discuss something that the battlefield couldn't even compare to.

Pff... what, was a debate going to happen?

Ah! 

Of all the — what on earth was I letting my guard down for?! Of course, it was that kind of talk! It was this bumbling hobbyhorse of an excuse for a conversation!

The discussion of politics!

Ever since ye olde days, I was not really fond of those boorish self-entitled talks. Even as a runt, I understood that perhaps I found it that way because I was merely a child, the embodiment of innocence and naivety. Still, I'd rather say I was the embodiment of stupidity. No kidding, though. Trying to prove that you can measure up to the talk of the adults is seriously and probably the worst thing you can ever think of in family gatherings. Having experienced it myself, I learned to know my place as a brat who didn't know anything. 

Ugh, and now I have to go through with this one? Seriously? I decided to tell them I'll turn in for the night but for the love of everything that is green on this earth, why is the night still so freaking young?! I can't even use that as an excuse anymore! If I escape now, I'll draw unnecessary misunderstandings that will eventually lead to conflicts and falling outs and—

"Dear," an old hoarsely audible voice called out to me and brought me back to reality. "Come here and sit down. Join us, will you?"

"Ah yes," I awkwardly scamper to where they were, trying to think of the perfect excuse too. "Um so, what were you talking about?"

"Why," another relative started. I smile wryly at the thought that this was going to be a long night. "Haven't you heard of the recent order that was passed down? Goodness, what were they even thinking?"

"Ey, don't talk like that when you're just complaining cause things aren't in your favour." another one commented.

"What?! Why you thick-witted black-bellied fool—"

"Ain't that real anyway you belligerent hag?!"

"You're always like this!"

"Whaatt? It's because you always pick a fight!"

At this point, I'm just standing there while other family members tried to calm down the two. I quietly led myself outside to escape the commotion. 

Haa

There wouldn't be a civil conversation if I tried to butt in.

Nathan — my husband, also stepped outside, possibly looking for me.

"Love," he called out. 

He stood beside me and took my hand.

"What are you doing out here? It's quite chilly so let's go inside hm?"

".......Alright," I said. "Have they calmed down though?"

"Still feisty but, we'll manage."

We both laughed.

"You know you don't have to be uncomfortable," he said carefully. "You can refuse if you don't want to, you can turn in for the night and rest; you can speak up, you can be comfortable with them."

I couldn't say anything back. I thought it was incredulous.

"You must think this is incredulous," he said as if he read my mind. "But it is not so."

"But, I am just, a guest... here." I slowly replied as if swallowing my words.

"No, you're not," he immediately assured me. "You're family."