Don't Need A Man

in which turkey day doesn't suck (welllll)

When my mother told me she didn't want to host Thanksgiving I had a series of heart attacks. No matter how angry I was at my mother I always attended the family Thanksgiving at her and Father's home.

She called me early last night, rambling about wanting to move on with her life. How moving on correlates with making turkey and stuffing is a mystery to me.

"Hungry." Prim stands in the kitchen with a hand on her hip. Basil looks around the kitchen, taking in the mass amount of food I've prepared for dinner. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is dining at our fine establishment. This must be perfect.

My son takes his sister by the hand and smiles. "C'mon, Primmy, let's go play Wii U."

"Splatoon!"

The two kids run off to the family room, fully intending on playing the Wii U I purchased because of Basil's good grades. Soon enough their shouts of despair and shouts of success paint the walls of my lovely home. And I couldn't be happier about it.

➖✖➖

"This turkey is delish!"

"My word, Rosemary, do share the recipe for this mashed potatoe stuffing concoction."

"I haven't experienced a thicker pie filling in years, bravo!"

"Momma, more!"

It seems like everyone speaks simultaneously and I don't know who to attend first, until Rose yells from the kids table. Excusing myself from the overly chatty adults I bring the plate of carved turkey over to the smaller table. Equally as chatty.

Each child requests more turkey and more gravy like it's their last meal.

Like every Thanksgiving once everyone finishes their meals people just linger around. Nobody wants to dine and dash, but also nobody wants to stay. For the next hour and a half the children play the Wii U and everyone else makes awkward conversation in attempt to be polite.

"How's the pregnancy?" The only relative from my father's side, Uncle Bill, asks. He's younger than my father and the only person from his side that cared to reach out to Mother while the divorce.

"Been great, no morning sickness yet and I haven't had any types of pain."

"Twins, right?"

"Yup, Basil is very excited." Uncle Bill laughs at that. We share a hug before he announces he has to leave, the wife wants him home. Bill has a new wife every two years. One day he's just going to end up alone with his dog, Mister Cluck.

Slowly guests trickle away, leaving me with good reviews and red cheeks from the amount of lipstick deposited. Mother doesn't leave right away, even when everyone else drives off. Instead, she pulls me into a hug. Primrose races over and latches herself to my leg. Mother chuckles and presses a kiss to Primmy's forehead. She blows a kiss to Basil, who is engrossed in his Mario Kart.

"You did really well, Rosie. Maybe again next year?"

I scoff. She doesn't say anything else before kissing my cheek and leaving for her car.

"C'mon kiddies, bath time!"

➖✖➖

Prim takes an extra long bath, all that pumpkin pie really gave her an energy boost. She splashes the pink bubbles around the bathtub in an attempt to prolong her fun. I watch the two year old for another couple of minutes before wrapping her in a Moana towel and draining the tub.

Primmy pulls out a Dora The Explorer pajama set. I watch her dress herself almost completely alone, the shirts always give her some trouble. Just as she's about to climb into bed a rush of pain bubbles, like a cramp. I gasp, cupping my slightly bloated stomach. Prim cautiously turns to me, her eyes wide.

"Momma, you nee' help?"

I muster up a smile. "No, no, I'm okay. Get into bed baby, it's la--." My gasp cuts me off. I've never felt cramps during my pregnancies before, and as time goes on I become more and more anxious.

"Baze-Baze!" Prim is losing it. "Baze-Baze, help!" Tears rush down her face as I crumble to the floor, the first signs of blood trickling down my leg. Shit. "Basil!"

Basil comes rushing into the room, a Wii remote in hand. The object falls to the floor as his jaw drops. He rushes over to me, but seems too scared to touch me. "Primrose, come on." Prim runs around me into the arms of her big brother. Basil knows exactly what to do.

The two leave the room and I listen as Basil resites our address off to the 911 operator. That's my boy.