The Beard

Chapter Twenty-Five

*Double update...The Beard is complete. Just gotta get these chapters posted.*

The rest of the week has been spent with me ignoring calls and texts from Miguel. At some point, I think he took the hint and because he had stopped calling by Thanksgiving. That or he was too preoccupied with his family. I didn't get much time to think because of my own family that had bombarded us for this holiday.

Uncle Mark had decided to bring two out of his five kids, the youngest, while his wife, Debbie, took the older three to see her family. While my younger cousins have cute, seemingly innocent faces, they're loud and rambunctious. They continue to run around the house, yelling at each other and for fifteen, they're extremely immature. Note, the compliments of cute and innocent are used very loosely.

My aunt Marie was here by herself, but to accompany her, she decided to bring a stick of sage, holy water that had supposedly been blessed, and a ton of crucifixes. She had said that she wanted to make sure no evil spirits were there to haunt her in her sleep. Other than that, she brought some canvases and paint which occupied her most of the time. Marie was the quietest out of everyone.

Last was Shelly who has been driving me up the wall. While I try to sympathize with her and her condition, she makes it extremely hard. Every day leading up to Thanksgiving has been her crying about how hard everything is. I don't see how when it's not like she's working. Plus, she has everyone doing everything for her.

When it's finally time to sit down to eat, I make sure to seat myself between my father and uncle, across from my mom. If I had to be placed next to Shelly or my cousins, I'd blow a gasket.

"This looks great, honey, really," my dad calls out, a small, forced smile on his face. He's had the last couple of days off because of the holiday. Not only that, but he had gotten the promotion he's been working so hard for.

"I'm glad you think so, I had great help." My mom motions to me, winking. "Now come carry this turkey in here."

My dad gets up and I zone in on the various conversations around here. My youngest cousin, Zachary, looks terrified as my aunt Marie tells him about how ghosts can be anywhere. Dylan, my second youngest cousin, is too busy laughing at his brother, snorts leaving his mouth at every second. My eyes move over to Shelly who is talking Mark's ear off about how she still has morning sickness and how swollen her feet are.

This is the calmest the house has been all week and I'm going to enjoy every second of it. My mom walks in, dad following behind her with the turkey tray in his hands. The smell is heavenly, taking over the dishes that had already been laid on the table. My mouth waters as I stare at the golden, crispy skin of the turkey, knowing it'll be perfectly juicy. Dad reaches over me to set the turkey down.

"Well, I guess I'll just cut the turkey and we can dig in." Dad grabs a large knife and begins cutting into the large bird. He cuts slices before dropping them onto everyone's plate.

Soon we're all piling our plates with the food; stuffing, greens, macaroni, and so much more. Everyone is quiet at first, choosing to focus on the food than on talking. Despite the unwelcome visit, I'm grateful for my family. They may be a little loud and intrusive, but I guess I wouldn't change the way they are.

When Thanksgiving is basically and all the 'little kids' are meant to be sleeping, the parents had decided to have their talk about Shelly. I found it weird that they needed to talk in secret because it's not like we all didn't know why they were here.

"Listen, you know why she can't stay with us," Uncle Mark was the first to start shouting. He sounds so frustrated and tired. "I've got five kids and I don't need two more."