Thanksgiving Dinner

[Trigger Warning: Contains mentions of substance abuse (alcohol), some gore/threats of physical violence]

As Delia looked around the room she knew this night would be long. Dad had already started drinking, 'How Deep Is Your Love” blaring from the old speaker. She found her place on the side of the dining table and prepared a plate. Thanksgiving was the only time they ever ate together, her siblings would soon file in the home. Denise, Mary, and Josh. 

“Sooo how’s school going?” Denise awkwardly asked. “Good” Delia replied. That was a lie. School was not going “good”. Ever since Philip passed it become harder and harder to focus on school, much less care about it. How do you explain to your family that there is a black hole growing inside of you, threatening to swallow you up? Days are starting to blur together, and you’re starting to wonder when was the last time you told them anything other than “good”. But who cares. That would only start a fight. It’s easier to feign indifference when it’s all you know. Or all you can remember. Maybe this topic would be best reserved for Christmas. “Can you pass the potatoes” Mom says. The evening drifted along, short stories exchanged, laughter floating along in spurts carrying Dad’s drunken happiness. Delia simply observed. That is, until she heard a knock on the door. 

“Who’s that?” Mary asked. “I didn’t invite anyone else?” Denise replied. Delia quickly rose, curious to see. She glanced through the peephole, seeing a blonde woman. “It’s some lady” she turns to the others gauging to see what she should do. Seeing no disapproving reactions, she opens the door. “Hi I’m Mallory. I’m really hungry and I was wondering if you could spare some food or maybe some change?”. Outside stood a short thin woman, with long blonde hair. She was disheveled, wearing only a stained tee and shorts that looked cut from jeans. As Delia glanced her up and down she noticed the sores and bruises covering her entire body. “Oh um just give me one second okay?” Delia said quickly closing the door behind her. “It’s some lady. She says her name is Mallory. I’m pretty sure she’s homeless, she’s asking for food.” “I might have $20 in my pocket let me check” Josh chimed in. “What no? let's invite her in she’s probably tired and hungry” Dad said. “Dad we can’t just invite a stranger in the house, are you crazy?” Mary replied. “C’mon it’s Thanksgiving isn’t this what Jesus wanted?”. “I’m pretty sure Jesus was Christmas, but same deal” Delia quipped. They looked at one another unsure of what to do. This wasn’t too far out of the realm of Dad’s giving nature, a giving nature that appears 7 beers into the night. Would it be so crazy to invite her? Denise thought. Without discussing it further he paced to the door. “Mallory you are welcome in my home, have a seat we’ll feed you”. “Oh god bless you thank you!”. She joins the table receiving a healthy portion of mashed potatoes, turkey, and sweet potato pie. This was starting to become a very interesting Thanksgiving. 

Delia couldn’t help but feel unsettled by the woman’s presence. Joining in on familial small talk was already difficult, and now this woman is glancing at her incessantly as if she knows something Delia does not. “Okay I finished I’m gonna go to my room” Delia announced. Before she could get up to leave a fork clangs against the tile floor. “Seriously Delia”. It’s Denise. Her eyes wild with anger. “What” Delia asks dumbly. “You do this every time, can you not be around us for more than five minutes?”. Delia knew this voice. She was daring her to answer. “What is your problem I said I was done”. Wrong answer. “Denise just stop” Mary said weakly. “No I’m tired of her bullshit, she doesn’t appreciate this meal we just sat down to eat, and she’s already leaving. It’s Thanksgiving”. The flames in her eyes are rising. Mallory is watching with a smile on her face. This ping pong match of two. “Like this day is different than any other day?”. Really wrong answer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”. “You know what I mean”. "No Delia I really don’t. Why don’t you explain it to me”. Delia tried to swallow her anger, but it unleashed like a dam. Her eyes rose to her sisters, eager to match the flames. 

“You don’t know me okay! and I don’t know you so let’s not pretend like everything is cool and happy. Dad’s already drunk. And I’m tired of being the only one who sees what’s wrong with us.” You’re always putting me down”. The words come out rushed, even Delia is unsure where they’ve come from. As if a sleeping bear has been awoken. A bear that was poked from a decades long slumber. She can’t take it back, it’s out there. The facade of “good” is gone and she’s afraid. Before either can retaliate, Mallory clears her throat. “Girls let’s not fight”. Except it’s not Mallory sitting there. It’s a beautiful woman. Blonde, with sparkling skin and a clear enticing voice. “What the fuck!” Josh shouts. What the fuck is right. 

“Well I’m an angel you see. That’s why I can change my appearance.” Mallory smiles. Delia has chills. If this is an angel, why doesn’t she feel comforted?. “I think we should settle this little squabble don’t you?.” The family looks towards each other unable to believe their eyes. “Is this real?” Mary asks. “Of course! Watch this”. Without standing, Mallory lifts a knife from the kitchen slitting her own throat. They shriek in terror. As quickly as the blood fell, they blink and it’s gone. Her neck unblemished as it was before. “Now I think we should get to the root of things. A little family intervention”. Denise and Delia are pushed back into their seats. They try to get up but can’t. “Now Delia what’s the matter?.” Mallory pouts. Delia look at Mallory with the same fire. She raises the knife again. This time pointed towards Delia. “I would answer if I was you.” She smiles. Delia looks at her sister. “I just feel like you don’t take me seriously or care to. When have you asked how I feel without criticizing me for something. I know I failed okay. I know I’m not you.” Tears begin to fall from her eyes. Embarrassed she looks away. For a second Denise stops to think. Delia can see a glimmer of softness, but then. “I don’t criticize you okay? You’re the one who makes it difficult for us to be together. You are ungrateful. Look at how you treat Mom and Dad”. Mallory laughs delighted. 

“How do I treat Mom and Dad?” Delia scoffs. "Dad is the one who treats her like shit. Every time they end up fighting, he calls her stupid, forgetful, he belittles her, and I have been the one who’s gone out to try to defend her. He can never apologize”. Delia exclaims, pleading for someone at the table to agree. Josh and Mary lower their gaze. Now it’s Denise who is crying. “Dad didn’t have an easy life okay, but he gives you everything! Everything you have is because of him. You have no idea Delia.” “Well maybe that isn’t what I wanted”. A final blow. “I should just forgive him for that and forget? Why should I? I’m not you.” Delia can see the pain spreading across Denise’s face. She knows she should stop, but she can’t it’s already too late. But in her eyes she can see, a small part of Denise agrees too. 

“See now we’re getting somewhere!” Mallory states. “Two sisters who differ in their feelings towards their parents, and how they’ve affected them.” Delia looks at Mallory. She’s reveling in their anger, her eyes brightening. “Is she actually enjoying this? Delia thinks. “Now Denise”. She motions to the knife now pointed towards her head. “Your turn”. 

“Delia I know Dad hasn’t been the best to you, he wasn’t the best to us either. And if you think he was bad before, when we were young he was way worse." Josh and Mary look up at their sister nodding their heads. “She’s right” Mary said. “But people change Delia.” Delia looks away, this isn’t what she wants to hear. The fire in Denise’s eyes is gone now. “You are right. And I’m sorry I made you feel unheard. You don’t have to forgive. But. I hope for the sake of us, you do”. Her voice is pleading, as are her eyes. “Match me Delia. Please.” she thinks. Delia looks at her, unsure. A glimmer of softness peeks out. She does. 

“You’re not an angel” Delia says to Mallory. Mallory gasps feigning ignorance. “Of course I’m an angel, you saw what I can do. You all saw”. She looks around the table, the eyes of the family following her. Anger, Sadness, Confusion, Fear, Brokenness. “Angels don’t want to watch people suffer.” Delia says defiantly. She can see a hint of fear in Mallory’s eyes. “You lie!” Mallory shrieks. “You will never coincide with them! Think of what they said to you Delia.” “I have.” Delia replies. Her fire reignited. “It’s time for you to leave DEMON.” Delia spits the word out. She looks across the table at Denise. They're both crying, but the tears aren't sad. With the confidence one only gets from the words they whisper to themselves in private darkened rooms. She says with complete conviction “I love you”. A phrase she hasn’t remembered saying in years. Mallory quickly vanishes into thin air, her shrieks echoing as she becomes nothing. The room fell silent. No more words needed to be said between the two. The family continues their Thanksgiving dinner.