Page 49 of Breathe
One of the boys came hurtling into the room. “Aunt Sam is on Skype!” he announced. Kane jumped up like he’d had five hundred volts set off under him. Thea said to Ellen, who had almost been thrown off the couch when Kane moved, “Hold him, will ya?” She thrust the baby unceremoniously into her arms and disappeared after Kane.
Ellen looked down at Benji, who solemnly looked back. “Hi, Benji,” she whispered, her throat suddenly tight. “Not that I’m thinking about the future or anything, but you sure do look like your uncle.” Benji smacked his lips. “Yeah,” she said. “Hungry, huh?” And she went to see if Benji’s dinner was ready.
The family were gathered around the kitchen island, potato peelings surrounding the laptop Cat had put there. Kane and Thea were in front; Sam was saying, “... not saying anything to anyone until I see me that baby!” So Ellen brought him forward and gave him to Thea. “Wait; who’s that?” Sam burst out. “You got a wet-nurse, T?”...
“That,” said Megan with satisfaction, as Kane opened his mouth, “is Kane’s girlfriend. Ellen, this is our sister Samantha.”
“Sam!” yelled Sam. “Samantha’s a witch! Hi, Ellen.”
Sam’s hair was a lot lighter than the rest of the family’s, a reddish brown liberally streaked with natural highlights. Her face was nut-brown and white lines fanned from her eyes from squinting in the sun. Her teeth stood out white against the tan. Ellen could tell she was being examined as well and hoped that Sam saw more in her than Cat had. Behind Sam was a wall with various pieces of paper taped to it, a crooked calendar showing the Pyramids, and part of a window framing a white-hot sky outside.
Ellen responded somehow, but it was the baby Sam wanted to see, so she was happy to stand off to the side, away from the camera, while Thea, with a little more pride this time, unwrapped Benji from his blankets. “Oooh, that birthmark’s awesome!” Sam breathed. “On the right side, that’s totally good luck.” Ellen couldn’t see Thea’s face, but her shoulders visibly relaxed a couple of inches.
“So you finally threw the bum out,” Sam said matter-of-factly.
“Yes,” Thea said, uncertainly, looking around to see if Jake was there. He wasn’t.
“Say it loud and proud, T,” Sam said firmly. “Stick to it, okay? You’re worth a lot more than that.” Thea nodded, her hand going to her mouth again. “And so are the boys, so don’t make me come over there and whup your ass.”
“Kane’s done all the ass-whupping we need, thanks,” Cat said in a stiff tone.
“I hardly touched him,” Kane protested. “This time.”
“Good for you, bruh,” Sam said, ignoring Cat’s tut of disapproval. “Next time, can you get one in for me? And what’s this about the family fortune going up in smoke?”
Apparently Sam was the blunt one of the family. “Oh, nicely put, Sam,” Megan said. Although Kane scraped his hand through his hair, he laughed.
“Maybe,” he said ruefully.
“Nah.” Sam pulled a face. “They’ll catch ’em. This many fires? They have to be making mistakes.” And she launched into a story about thieves at the dig she’d been on two years ago. The boys drifted off; Jake drifted in. “Jacob!” Sam interrupted herself. He reluctantly came into view, standing next to Ellen, shoulders hunched, head down. The back of his neck was scrawny and looked terribly vulnerable. Ellen wanted to put her arm around him. “Take off the ’phones and say hi, Jake!” Sam yelled. Jake did. “Did you find out about Machu Picchu like I told you?”
His head came up. “Yeah.” He leaned forward. “I Googled everything I could about it. I even took out some books at the library.” These were the longest sentences Ellen had heard him utter. “But it sucks (“Jake! Language!” snapped Cat); there’s so much they don’t know!”
“I know, fun, in’t it?” Sam grinned. “Maybe one day I’ll take you there, and you’ll dig around and see what you can find out.”
“Sounds cool,” Jake said, and he sounded like he meant it. Thea turned around and got her free arm around her son, who instantly backed off and dropped his head again.
“Okay, bud, it’s a deal. Be good, okay? Be nice to your mother. And your brother.” Jake shrugged. Sam seemed to accept this was all the enthusiasm she was going to get on that subject. “Okay, peeps, I’d better go. Save me some turkey, ’kay? Love you!” They all chorused their love back. Ellen blushed a little at the simple, open affection. “Bye, Erin, wherever you went!” At least three people corrected her with great shouts of laughter. “Oh, Ellen, sorry. Nice to meet you! Don’t tick off my brother! I guess if he’s inviting you home to Mother Cat, you must be doing something right. Ha ha, Kane, you should see your face. Bye, baby Benji! I love you! Bye!” And she disconnected.
They all seemed a little deflated after the call, but Cat looked like she was in a better mood. “Let’s eat,” she said. “Antonio, I’ll take a jumbo glass of the Barbera, please.”
Ellen could appreciate the antique silverware with the letter “F” engraved on it; her mother had a similar set and took great pride in keeping it polished. It was often Ellen’s job to do it before holidays. The candelabra were equally old and sparkling; someone had been working hard all week. But the family dinnerware also carried the “F”; Ellen smiled at what her mother would have called the overt American desire to “stamp their name on everything.” Cutlery was one thing, her mother would have said, but dishes as well? Rather outré.
The turkey was definitely outré; it was about the size of a baby hippo. “I hope there’s enough turkey,” Cat sniffed. “There wasn’t time to order a bigger one.” Kane gave Ellen an amused smile from across the table. Megan was next to her, Jake on her other side, headphones firmly clamped back in place. The other boys seemed to accept this and didn’t include him in their fights over the mashed potatoes.
“So, Ellen,” said Megan. “What can I get you? What’s your favorite?”
Ellen looked around at the ten or so dishes that covered every inch of the table. “Well... I don’t really know. I’ve never had a Thanksgiving dinner before.”
Everyone stopped dead and stared at her. “Never?” asked Paolo-or-Matteo, frozen in the act of getting all the marshmallows from the sweet potato casserole onto his plate.
“Umm, no. I’ve always gone back ho—back to England at Thanksgiving.”
“So...” Megan said, “You’ve never had green bean casserole?”
“Nope.”
“Sweet potato casserole?”
