Page 119 of Verses

The conversation died down and I could hear nothing more than soft Christmas carols intermingled with the sounds of referee whistles, cheering crowds, and announcers coming from the living room, interrupted by the occasional scrape of a fork on a plate. As I absorbed that strange “silence,” I realized I was almost relaxed. I was even pleasantly surprised at how smooth the meal had been going—and how much I was actually enjoying spending time with my family.

But it was as if just thinking it cursed the rest of the afternoon.

After a bit, Wolf spoke. “Everything is delicious. Thanks again for having me.”

Mom said, “Thank you—especially for the reminder. Has everyone had a chance to try both kinds of turkey?”

Both Ashley and Derek, obedient children, saidyesimmediately, followed by Luca nodding. When I glanced at Phil, the way his eyes narrowed told me none of this was his idea. If I had to guess, Phil had probably tried a deep-fried turkey at some time and, having liked it a lot, had wanted to make one for a holiday. And, in typical fashion, my mother had been insulted…and so here she was now making a big deal out of it.

If she’d asked only about the turkey she’d made, I would have told her that it tasted better than it had in the past—juicy, not dry or chewy. But Phil’s deep-fried turkey had a flavor I hadn’t expected. Either way, I actually didn’t care, because I wasn’t the hugest turkey fan and I would do just fine even if I never ate a piece again.

But my mother was a dog with a bone. “I’m going to go around the table, and I want you to tell me which turkey you like better and why.”

Holy shit. She’d been setting it up to be a huge, stinking competition from the beginning. Why’d she have to play her usual games when I had a guest with me?

Not sensing my discomfort, she asked Derek, “Which one do you like best?”

I wasn’t surprised at his answer—because, even though Jeff was his biological dad, he’d never met that disgusting pig. Phil was the only dad Derek had ever known, and they’d bonded like a true father and son. “It’s pretty good. I think we should have this turkey sometimes too. Maybe, like, have yours on Thanksgiving and dad’s at Christmas.”

The disgusted grunt my mother let out told me everything I needed to know.

She was gunning for a fight.

Dismissing Derek’s answer, she asked Ashley, “What do you think?”

“You know I don’t care. Ihateturkey, and I hate that I have to eat either one of them.”

“Have you tried them?”

“Enough.”

My mother was nothing if not persistent. “Well, what do you think?”

“They both taste like turkey.”

Rolling her eyes, my mother then focused on Luca—but she didn’t even have to say a word. He spat out, “I agree with her.”

Mom said, “Oh, come on people.” Her little game wasn’t working…which meant this would become more unpleasant as she went around the table. “Okay, Hayley, what do you think?”

“Mom, let’s not do this.”

“Dowhat?”

“Why can’t we like both of them? Why can’t theybothbe choice? Why do we have to choose one? I’m with Ashley. I’m not a turkey fan—and who cares if one is slightly more appealing than the other? They both taste like frigging turkey.”

“Hayley, make a choice. If you were starving to death, which one would you eat?”

“Either—because they’d both give me protein and the nutrients I needed to not starve.”

Again, my mother made an angry grunt before shifting her unflinching gaze on the man who’d been kind enough to bring me here. “Wolf…you’re our guest, and we’d like to know what you think.”

The smile on his face belied what I was sure to be true, that he had to sense the tension thick in the air.

His words confirmed my suspicion. “This is a family thing.”

“You have to vote. You can’t just come in here and eat our food and then not tell us what you liked better.”

Ugh. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so horrified.

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