The Holt Conundrum

sixth november

               

It's November and for the first time in my life, I bring my boyfriend home for Thanksgiving.

            I hold Holt's hand during the whole car ride there, thinking about the first year I brought him, and how much I had wish I could do that.

            He takes a little nap and I keep giving him sideway glances and I can't believe this is real. I still can't believe it. Holt's my boyfriend and he actually loves me and it's not a dream.

            When we get home, Mom basically attacks us the second we walk in, hugging the both of us.

"Ah! My boys are finally here. Do you guys have any idea how excited I am about this Thanksgiving? Now everything is finally perfect," she says.

I want to cry, because it's true, everything is finally perfect. But I'm not going to get emotional so quickly. Dad would have a field day with that one. "Contain yourself mother," I tell her.

She laughs. And then she presses a hand to Holt cheeks, smiling at him and says, "I didn't put you in your own room, and that's final. You're sleeping with Eliah."

I roll my eyes. "Jeez Mom."

She grins, while Holt's cheeks redden a little. "What? We're not the ones that share a wall with you, your sister is. I don't care if you keep her up."

I throw my hands in the air, while Holt goes full on red. "Oh my god, Mom."

"Whose son do you think you are? You think you and your sister aren't the result of a ridiculously high amount of sex? If these walls could talk."

I cover my ears. Heeeard enough. "Eeeeeeeeew."

Luckily, Dad walks up to us at that moment and tells Mom, "Claire, honey, leave my poor sons alone."

He hugs me, and I hug him back telling him, "Mom is implying that you had sex, and that is unnatural."

He snorts, shaking his head and then hugs Holt too. "Come on boys, don't just stand there, we need to get some logs in living room."

I make a pained sound. "Dad, please don't tell me you're trying to start up that fireplace again."

"He had it swept last week, he shouldn't intoxicate us like last year," Mom says.

I ignore it. "Dad, that fireplace is for cutesy purposes only, not to actually heat the house."

"And what, I'm not allowed to have my Hallmark moments?"

I shake my head. "I give up."

"No, no, you don't give up, you come and help me bring logs in the living room."

So Holt and I follow him. We catch up and joke around and a couple hours later Eloise and her boyfriend arrive.

Dad manages to start the fireplace without fuming the whole house., which really is a miracle.

Holt helps Mom with dinner. He's actually the only one she allows to help, because she says me and Eloise never listen to her in her kitchen and that we're useless sous-chef.

Tomorrow the grandparents will come over for dinner. But tonight, it's just the six of us, and there's something amazing about it.

Like every year, Dad makes us go around the table and say what we're grateful for. I know exactly what I will say this year. I'm grateful for the boy sitting beside me, with his knee lightly touching mine.

"I'm grateful that my children are all happy and healthy," he says first.

            Eloise is next, but she looks nervous for some reason.

She twitching and looking at her boyfriend and at all of us. "I'm grateful... well..." she babbles, "alright, I guess this is as good a time as any. I kinda have something to announce..."

Mom is frowning. "What is it sweetheart?"

Eloise takes her boyfriend's hand in hers. And then she smiles. "I'm pregnant."

Oh my god!

We're all on our feet, basically ready to throw ourselves sin her arms. Mom's first and she instantly becomes a mess. She's crying and hugging Eloise. "Oh sweetheart."

"Mom, don't cry. I expected that from Dad, not from you," she says laughing.

Dad's standing a couple of feet behind them, his eyes filled with tears, but with the biggest smile.

"We're going to be grandparents, how am I not supposed to cry?" Mom tells her.

"I think we need to take out the champagne," Dad announces.

"Oh no. I can't drink don't you dare toast without me," my sister interjects. I can't believe it. She's going to be a mom. That's just so weird.

"Deal with it," he tells her and we all laugh.

He gets a bottle out from deep in the alcohol cabinet. It's the good stuff. We all get a flute and Eloise gets apple juice.

"To a perfect year, and many more to come," Dad says and we all clink.