Mama Odelle’s house smelled of roasted turkey, cranberry sauce, cigarettes, and sweat. The fat under her arm was swiftly moving every time she stirred the contents in her favorite mixing bowl.
“You have to stir it in one direction the entire time. That’s what get it all right, “she’d say every year.
We were all huddled in the living room watching the Hallmark channel. Mama O’s tv was small and so was her living room, but we all made it work. It reminded me of the nights when all the cousins slept over. We’d make pallets and sleep head to feet, feet to head. Jr. would always complain about my feet being all in his face.
“Man, I swear to God if your stinky feet touch me, I’m going to fight you,” he’d say with a playful undertone.
This year, almost everyone in the family came, just enough to fit at the table. Well, except for Aunt Sheryl’s husband Jake. The family eyed him each step he took. They’d only been married for a couple of months, and none of us were invited to the wedding. Aunt Sheryl said it all happened last minute, but her Facebook says differently. She and Jake were smiling big alongside his family at their ceremony. I didn’t say anything about it though.
Finally, the food was done and Mama Odelle shooed us all into the dining room. Everyone sat, and Auntie Jean led grace. The whole time she was being shady saying, and God please bless our unexpected guest, Mama O took over from there. Uncle Dennis was laughing silently the entire time.
We began to eat and eat. Mouths were full of dressing, ham, turkey, pecan and sweet potato pie. Everyone grabbed a slice of pecan pie except Jake.
“Why you ain’t eating none of that pecan?” Auntie Jean asked.
“Oh, I’m—”
“He’s allergic to pecans,” Aunt Sheryl cut him off.
Auntie Jean sucked her teeth.
“Mmm. Well, if you brought ‘em around more often, we’d know that.”
Uncle Dennis quickly grabbed his drink and swallowed hard, peeking from the rim of the glass.
“Well, if you stop running the streets all night, maybe you’d get to see him.”
Mama Odelle slammed her hand on the table.
“Look, we’re not doing this year. I’ve slaved over that kitchen stove to make this meal for y’all ungrateful devils and all you want to do is fight,” she said as she continued to eat her roll.
“Tell your daughter to grow up then Mama.” Aunt Sheryl said.
“You’re the one who needs to grow up. Didn’t invite your own family to your wedding. What? You’re ashamed of us or something. Got you a good job and a maybe decent man and you think you all that now huh?’
“Like, I said. The wedding was last minute. There were barely and guests.”
Auntie Jean shifted in her chair and laughed.
“Girl, stop that lying. You’re lying for no reason. I saw your Facebook. Mmhmm. Maybe you should make your page private,” auntie jean said.
I thought I was the only one who saw all the pictures. I guess I wasn’t the only one snooping around. Auntie Jean an Sheryl kept arguing back and forth like they were teenagers. The rest of us continued to eat like nothing was happening. Maybe Mama O decided they’d get tired eventually and shut up. Jake kept tugging at Aunt Sheryl’s arm, trying to get her to calm down.
It wasn’t until the food was thrown across the table that everyone tuned back in.
“Now, that was a perfectly good piece of pie, and you just wasted it,” uncle Dennis said playfully.
He was enjoying the drama, probably was even hoping he’d get to see a fist fight that day, but he didn’t. After there was no more to food to chunk, they screamed I hate you at each other and stormed out. Neither one of them told Mama O thank you or the food was good. Uncle Dennis joked for the next ten minutes until they became lame. He eventually left. The house was quiet again except the rattling of dishes. I was drying the plates for Mama Odelle. She looked sad but not sad enough to ask are you okay. I imagined she was thinking to herself. Asking how did her kids become so angry at the world and each other. But she found solace in the fact I’d always be there for her. To clean her carpet, fix her air conditioner, or whatever else she needed.
That was the last Thanksgiving we all had together. Aunt Sheryl and her husband moved away and never looked back. Auntie Jean was a little of everywhere, and Uncle Dennis was ‘rebooting’ his rap career up in Chicago. He’d save up to get a train ticket. I was the only one who came back every Thanksgiving until Mama Odelle passed away.
