Lean Greetings

Carter had arrived early to dinner and already taken his seat. He wanted to get the end of the table that was towards the kitchen doors and away from the doors to the entryway. He would have more room to get in and out that way and less people trying to shuffle behind his chair to get to the bathroom. Plus, if he arrived early, leaving earlier would be more appropriate. He loved his family, but they were a bit much. Not obnoxious in the traditional sense, but they could be rude with an eyebrow raise or a sharp exhale timed just well enough to dig deep and make his blood boil.

           Mom had simply shouted from the kitchen when he knocked. “Come on in! Can you find your father or just bring those extra chairs into the dining room please!?” She didn’t even wait for a response or see if what she wanted done had been done.

           “Merry Christmas to you too mom,” Carter had muttered. Even after what he had been going through, he would much rather move the chairs to the table than attempt to convince his father to peel himself away from the football game he was undoubtedly watching on the downstairs TV. With all the sounds of the kitchen, Mom could not hear it down there if Dad had the volume low enough, and Dad knew it.

           Moving the chairs had been difficult for Carter. They all still had all their legs, like they were mocking him. The table was standing up steadily in jest when he pushed the chairs in. He knew he shouldn’t be so sensitive that he was taking offense from inanimate objects, but it was still early days since the incident, so he was not too hard on himself for it.

           “Hellooo?” Carter heard his sister’s voice coming from the front door, followed by the shuffling and maneuvering of her husband and her kids moving through the doorway to take off their shoes, coats, gloves and any other winter accessories.

           “Hey Linda, I’m in the dining room, Mom’s in the kitchen and I’m sure you can guess where Dad is.”

           “Ron what’s the score!?” Linda’s husband, Dean, called out, already thumping down the stairs. Carter heard a muffled yell of a reply, followed by “What!? How did….” The rest trailed off.

           “Hello to you too Dean,” Carter muttered yet again. Then he heard the thundering footfalls of excited children come his way. With a grimace, he pushed his chair a little way from the table and rotated towards the entryway.

The dirty blonde heads of his nephews bounced around the corner and ran up to him with a loud, “MERRY CHRISTMAS UNCLE CARTER!” The younger one with his jacket still on jumped into Carter’s arms with a big hug, the older one pulled his brother off of Carter.

“Don’t jump on him, stupid.” He cupped his mouth and loudly whispered “Remember about his leg?” while glancing at Carter.

“It’s alright buddy, really, I’m okay. Just tell grandma not to ask me to move anymore furniture.” Carter said with a big smile. They were good kids. A little rambunctious sometimes, but Carter loved them. They weren’t grown up enough to inherit his sister’s skill at getting under his skin.

The two brothers ran into the kitchen where Mom greeted them loudly with a “Merry Christmas you two!”

Linda came into the dining room after putting away her families coats and stowing the presents under the tree. She stood on the other side of the table from Carter and let out a long breath with her eyes half closed beneath a pony tail that clearly had not been the first choice. A glass of wine had made it’s way into her hand.

“Not gonna come give me a hug? It is Christmas,” Linda said to Carter after a sip. Her tired eyes had opened and her eyebrows raised slightly with the playful comment. Carter gave her a wide-eyed look then stared at the floor awkwardly. “Right, right the leg. Yeah, I got the email,” she said, “Don’t worry, I told the kids and Dean promised he would go along with it.”

“Go along with it?” Carter said with an eyebrow raised, meeting her gaze. This time she looked away. “Yeah, let’s just all go along with a very real missing leg. Excuse me for not being in the right mood to jump up and go give you a hug.” He shook his head.

Linda’s hand came up in defeat. “Bad phrasing, my bad. Look, I’m trying my best here, if you give everyone a bit of grace this dinner doesn’t have to turn into a fight and we can all get through this with some holiday cheer, and I don’t have to hear from Mom about how it’s all my fault for the next week.”

Carter remained in his seat as the table was set and Mom, apron still on around her red Christmas dinner dress, rounded everyone up to take their seats. He received a few judgemental looks from Mom while she brought food to the table, but Linda was helping her and so were the boys, so he tried his best not to feel bad. Surely, she could be a little more understanding. Maybe he was just imagining it.

Dean came upstairs before Dad did, asking Mom if she needed any help, pushing his sleeves up past an expensive watch and dropping his voice down behind a half-smirk that almost seemed like flirting. Mom gobbled it right up. Of course, by the time he got upstairs most of the work was already done and he only carried a couple plates. He refused to look at Carter, or at least to Carter it felt that way. He got maybe one glance in his direction, but it was quickly followed by eyes to the ceiling and the tiniest shake of the head that Carter had absolutely noticed.

They all sat down except for Mom, and still no Dad.

“Ron! Dinner’s ready!” Mom yelled downstairs. A grumbled mixture of dad noises and the creaking protest of old furniture were followed by slow thumps up the stairs. When he got to the top, Dad cheerily said his hellos to Linda and the kids. After the second grandchild jumped off him, Dad stretched up to the ceiling, his green button down almost untucking from his jeans, then massaged his bad knee with a stifled cringe.

“Dad you really should get that looked at,” said Carter, ignoring that his dad had yet to acknowledge him.

“Thank you Carter, I’ll be sure to call you right away if I want to get dramatic over a leg.”

“Ron, don’t,” Mom said sharply. Dean was laughing behind his hand.

“I’m just messing with you kiddo, I’m glad you could make it. Besides someone needs to eat all this food, the groceries costed an arm and a leg.” With the slightest pause before “and a leg.” Dean laughed harder, Linda bit her lips together and closed her eyes in an attempt to not join her husband. Dad put a hand up to Carter before he could respond. “I’m done buddy, I swear. But you have to admit the email was a bit much.”

“I don’t know Dad. Maybe I wanted to give everyone a heads up that I might not be as helpful or cheerful as I usually am, but I guess you wouldn’t understand that level of consideration,” Carter snapped. The room got quiet. “You know, maybe this was a bad idea after all.” Carter started to push his seat out.

“Carter James Wilford!” Mom shot at Carter and he stopped. “You will keep your rear end firmly planted in that seat and eat Christmas dinner with your family!” The two boys sniggered at the mention of a rear end. “Ron, drop it! Dean, your hand isn’t hiding anything! And boys, laugh at those words one more time and I will smack your rear ends! Ask your mom how much fun that is.” Mom had spoken. Grace was said, food was served and for a few minutes they behaved like a functioning family.

Dean got up to carve the Turkey. “Carter, do you want the leg?” Linda blurted out a single laugh then shot her husband a stern look. Dean’s question was the final straw.

Carter pushed his chair out and Mom opened her mouth to speak, but Carter beat her to it. “No Mom, I’m not going to just sit here and be made fun of. Jesus Christ! A guy loses a leg and can’t have a couple day grace period to react to it. Not Overreact. Just react. Like a normal person should be allowed to do. I thought the heads up over email would help, I even got here early and helped out with chairs of all things. Mom, I’m sure the food is great, but it’s not much of a Christmas dinner when not one member of my own family, over the age of six,” Carter gestured to the kids, “had the decency to even say ‘Merry Christmas!’ I’m done. Enjoy dinner.”

The rest of the family fell silent, Dean and Dad rolled their eyes. Mom mouthed ‘What did you say to him?’ to a bewildered Linda. One of the kids mumbled something about being seven, and Carter finished pushing out his chair.

Carter planted his feet, got up, stormed out of the room to the front door. He grabbed his coat and keys and slammed the door behind him. He heard the “He gets the sensitivity from you, you know” coming from Dad.

Carter drove home. His belly grumbled, but he had his pride at least, ordering something for Christmas dinner was a little sad, but it would be a victory meal. He had stood up to his incredibly inconsiderate family.

When he walked in the door, Carter instinctively tossed his keys on the table. The metal scraped all the way down the face of it and skidded onto the floor. He groaned and could almost cry. He stopped himself though, that would be too sensitive. He did not believe he was an overdramatic person, but he wasn’t a brick wall either. It wasn’t some crappy IKEA table either, he had ordered it special, the leg was going to be a pain to replace.