Page 186 of Rush of Jealousy

Everyone sits at the place setting that has their name written on a golden card shaped like a leaf. Graham pulls out my chair and slides me into the table. He sweeps my hair over my shoulder and bends down to kiss the side of my neck before taking his own seat. I reach underneath the table and squeeze his hand.

“Thank you,” he whispers into my ear, “for being so good with Penny. This is the liveliest I’ve seen her since the whole incident happened.”

I give his hand another squeeze and smile up at him with watery eyes. I look away and blink a few times. Germain clears his throat and stands at the head of the table while Donna places the turkey platter on a side table adjacent to him.

“I would like to make a toast,” he says with confidence. Everyone holds up their goblets of wine as he continues, except Penny who just has sparkling water. “To my beautiful children, my incomparable wife, and Angela, thank you for gathering here today to celebrate the holiday of thankfulness and togetherness. Let our bounty be that of good health, good food, and good conversation. For now and for the year to come. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” everyone says, clinking glasses and taking sips.

Food is passed around, and Donna gathers huge forkfuls of turkey and walks portions around to everyone based on their preference for white or dark meat. Mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, yams, corn, macaroni and cheese, and cornbread stuffing fill my plate. Conversation is light due to everyone chowing down. It is delicious.

I help with clearing the table, and Donna passes out individual pumpkin cheesecakes with a dollop of homemade cinnamon whipped cream. It takes me back to working at the bakery where the place smelled like fall the entire months of October and November.

“I may need this recipe, Donna,” I say after shoveling another spoonful into my mouth. “It’s divine.”

“Oh, thank you. So glad you like it.”

“It’s great, Mom,” Graham agrees, followed by his siblings.

“Is everyone up for some minute-to-win-it games before I have to drive Penny back to Seattle?” Germain asks, a twinkle in his eye. He gets out of his seat and reaches behind the china cabinet to pull out a big poster board that is transformed into a grid with teams down the side and game titles across the top. “Donna and I will be on one team. Graham and Angie. And then Nic and Penny.”

Donna throws her hands up into the air. “Winning team gets bragging rights.”

“And the losing teams?” Nic asks with hesitation.

“Get a pie in the face,” his mom chants with excitement.

Wow. The Hoffmans really get into this. But a pie in the face? Nope. Graham and I better win this. We all move into the living room that has the coffee table and ottomans moved off to the side so that there is plenty of room.

“The first game,” Germain explains, “is human Hungry Hungry Hippos. There will be two rounds with alternating hippo eaters and a chance to earn double the points if your team wins both times. The rules are simple. The first team member will lie on their belly on the moving roller board and act as the hippo while the alternate member grips their legs and pushes them forward where the apples will be gathered. The team that retrieves the most apples and has them in their basket by the time the buzzer sounds will gain a victory point.”

“You eat first,” Graham says, helping me onto the cushioned roller board.

He arranges my dress so that I don’t feel exposed and grabs my ankles. Once Germain announces “go,” Penny, Donna, and I get jolted forward and our mouths chomp down on apples. Graham pulls me back, and I drop off the apple into our team’s assigned bin. I laugh as I get catapulted forward again and bump my nose on an apple, causing it to roll.

“To the left,” I call back, craning my neck to reach the Granny Smith. Got it! “Baaa!” I yell, hoping he heard me to pull me back to the basket before I lose my grip.

It feels like just seconds since we started when the buzzer blares through the room. Apples are counted, with Donna and Germain locking in the first point. Members switch positions and the timer gets set again.

“Go!”

I laugh so hard at Graham’s overachiever-ness as he manages to gather two small apples with one massive bite. I push him forward so hard that he rolls off the board and has to get back on, wasting some time. I pull him back and he drops an apple as he falls off again. I flop to the floor as the buzzer sounds and cannot stop laughing at our shit show.

Graham sits up and stares at me with mirth in his eyes. “If we weren’t on the same team, I would think you were trying to deliberately sabotage me.”

“I am so sorry,” I cry out, trying to contain my laughter. “At this rate, the only hope I have is that the pie will taste yummy.”

“The winners are Nic and Penny!” Donna cheers.

Nic picks up Penny and swings her around in the air while she yelps for him to put her down.

“The next game is the frozen T-shirt contest,” Donna announces, handing each team one bag that contains a block of ice.

“Um, what is this, Mom?” Graham asks, shaking his head at his parents. “You two have way too much time on your hands.”

Donna shushes her son and starts her demonstration of the rules. “Each bag contains a T-shirt that has been soaked in water, put in this Ziploc bag, and then tossed into the freezer. Each team needs to melt and unravel the shirt and put it on one team member’s body. There will not be a time limit for this one. Fastest team secures the win,” she says proudly.

“Where do you even come up with this stuff?” Nic asks, looking between the bag and his mom.

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