Page 24

“Do you need help cooking?” Mom asked, pushing up the sleeves of her sweater.

“Oh, I don’t do the cooking,” Debra said, waving her off. “The men do it.”

Mom looked impressed. “Really.”

“That’s right,” Debra said. “The other boys are outside deep-frying the turkey. Paulie made most of the sides. Jeremy did the mac and cheese.”

I leaned in to whisper to him, “No wet noodles with dry cheese powder lumps?”

“I don’t think I could re-create that, even if I tried,” Jeremy whispered back.

I smiled, glad that we’d left whatever had been happening a few moments before upstairs where it started.

“Well, thank you for having us,” Mom said. “We didn’t have much luck with dinner this year.”

“She burned the turkey to a crisp,” Devon said, pressing a finger to the nipple of a nude statue on the credenza. Mom lowered his hand, looking embarrassed.

“The video’s prolly gonna go viral,” my brother said.

Jodie gasped. “Don’t you dare post that!”

“Too late.”

Dad gave him a reproachful look. “You need to take that down, Devon.”

He looked scandalized. “What? Why? It’s funny! She even left the guts bag inside. It came out on fire. It was awesome!”

“There’s nothing funny about that, Devon,” Jodie snapped. “A bird died for nothing.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, I bet he’s bummed. I hope whoever chops my head off at least eats me.”

“You’re disgusting,” she said.

“Hey, let’s just calm down,” Ivan said, putting an arm around his dejected wife. “Don’t get worked up for this. Maybe next year we just cater it, huh? Maybe it wasn’t the best idea for you to bite off something so big, you know?”

Grandma appeared out of nowhere. “I wouldn’t question your woman’s decisions considering you’re one of them,” she said, inching straight through the middle of the group and heading toward the bathroom on her walker.

I could barely keep a straight face. I was still way too buzzed for this.

“Okay, young man, move it along,” Dad said, gesturing for Devon to vacate to the living room. “Go on, find a TV or a phone charger.”

My brother sulked off, and my sister looked somewhat vindicated.

Frank rubbed his hands together. “How about some drinks?”

“I’d love one,” Dad said, like he’d been sober for far too long today.

Frank nodded for Ivan to follow. “I’ve got a full bar. The cocktails are stronger these days, now that we’ve gone through the vodka water,” Frank said.

“It took me years to finish the bourbon water at my house,” Dad said, the three men vanishing into the den.

Debra turned back to her house guests. “Jodie, Terri, come see the four-season porch. I’ve got some stained glass in there I want to show you and a bottle of chardonnay chilling outside with our names all over it.”

My sister sniffled and nodded.

Mom leaned over on the way out. “Do I smell like smoke?” she whispered.

I sniffed her. “A little.”