8. Jess
Ican’t help the smile that spreads across my face as my car approaches my parents’ house. After residing under Alex’s thumb for so long, living alone is a thing of beauty and I love the solitude—but leaving the city and coming home to the family chaos just makes my heart happy. Especially the Opening Ceremonies.
Ever since the Price family moved in next door, Thanksgiving has basically been a four-day event for all of us. One that I always treasured. And one that my ex-husband completely ruined when he called me a “fucking dumbass” after dessert and smacked the back of my head at the table.
Everyone stood up so fast, I can still hear the clatter of the chairs toppling backwards onto the floor. Mom, Dad, Scott, Lyss…Chris and Joe…I watched the color drain from Alex’s face and it was the first time I felt safe enough to say I wasn’t going home with him.
But, as Chris later explained, “it takes a lot more than a piss-ant little pencil dick to tarnish a Price-Berringer Thanksgiving.”
So the Opening Ceremonies were born. They became a fun way to erase the day the nail was hammered into the coffin of my dysfunctional marriage, and usher in a new era of Liberated Jessica.. And Liberated Jessica may or may not love being the main character for a few beautiful moments.
The second I turn into the driveway, I can see it all begin; before I even turn off the ignition, my nieces are flying out the front door screaming my name with their mom on their heels.
“Aunt Jess is here! Aunt Jess is here!”
I rush out of the car and scoop up tiny Arielle, hugging her tight before leaning down and squeezing her big sister, Gemma, in my arms and kissing them both on the cheeks.
“Hi, Jess,” Alyssa smiles and leans in for a hug of her own.
“Lyss! You look beautiful! How are you feeling?”
“Not ready to hand out the eviction notice yet, but close,” she says, rubbing her belly.
“There’s my woman!” Chris calls from next door.
Alyssa and I share a conspiratorial glance before I turn on my brightest smile and yell, “Hey there, sexy man!”
I’m about to go over to meet him, but he instead picks up his pace and jogs over, picking me up in his arms like I weigh less than Arielle and spinning me in a small circle.
That’s all it takes. “Dude, what the hell? Stop hitting on my sister!” Scott runs out the door and immediately puts his right arm in between me and his best friend, using his entire body to separate us.
“Would you watch your language in front of these delicate ears?” Chris mockingly reprimands.
“Daddy says hell all the time! And ass!” Gemma exclaims.
“Ass! Ass! Ass!” Arielle chants.
Scott briefly goes into Dad mode and turns his head to his daughter, “What did I say about repeating what Daddy says?”
Gemma ignores him completely and looks at me with a question of her own. “Aunt Jess, when are you and Uncle Chris going to get married so he’s our real uncle?”
“WHAT?!” This from my brother.
“Well, sweetie, your Uncle Chris is always going to be your real uncle no matter what. But we’d really like a spring wedding,” I say as I slip her a dollar bill.
Before Scott can object, Chris leans in and adds, “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you have the second prettiest dress next to your aunt’s.” He smiles and hands her a five-dollar bill.
My eyes widen and I look at him. “Five dollars?”
“She upped her rates!”
“Are you seriously paying my four-year-old to join in on this crap now?” Scott runs his hands over his face.
“Mommy, Mommy! I have six dollars now!”
“I see that, baby, nice work. We can put that in your bank when we get home, just like we talked about,” Alyssa says.
“You too?” My poor brother is clearly betrayed.
“What’s going on out here?” Dad’s “giant voice” thunders as he stomps out of the front door to the porch, my mom smiling behind him.
On cue, the girls scream. Gemma hands her precious earnings off to Alyssa before tearing off, but neither of them is a match for my burly dad, who easily picks up one of them under each arm like luggage. “Is Uncle Chris trying to steal your Aunt Jess again?”
“Get him, Grandpa!!” Gemma cheers.
Chris’ jaw drops. “I just gave you five dollars, you little traitor!”
Gemma just giggles and holds out her hand for more money, which gets a genuinely hearty laugh out of Chris. “You’ll never catch me alive, Copper!” He starts running.
Scott joins in on the chase, but I know my brother’s weak spots. I run up behind him and jump on his back for an uninvited piggy-back ride, screaming, “Run, Uncle Chris, run!”
Scott can’t help but laugh and drops to his knees, spinning around to throw me off his back so he can get up again. “Trust no one!” he yells.
I stand up, barely breathing with pain in my cheeks from smiling, and brush the dead grass off my clothes before moving in for another tackle. But then Chris comes up behind me and scoops me off the ground with one arm under my neck and the other under my knees. “I’ve got her!” he calls victoriously.
My dad, with girls still in tow under his arms, stands next to my brother before they both let out a war cry and charge us. I can barely hear Mom and Alyssa cheering from the driveway over my fit of giggles as I tuck my head down into Chris’ chest and bob with the motions of him running to safety.
Once he’s fully on his own front porch, he sets me down gently and takes my hand. We stand together, smiling, as Dad and Scott take their usual knee in defeat at the base of the three stairs below.
“Behold!” Chris yells, raising our joined hands in the air. “THANKSGIVING HAS BEGUN!”
We cheer, clap, and exchange hugs all around before my family makes their way to our house to get started with the Thanksgiving meal prep. I hug Chris tightly. “Another glorious year, good sir,” I say.
He kisses the back of my hand and bows. “Indeed, fair maiden,” his theater voice bellows.
“I’ll see you tomorrow for Black Friday shopping.” I curtsy and make my way down the stairs, turning to wave a final time.
“Tomorrow!” he says with his usual gusto. As he walks in, a silhouette in the window catches my eye. I thought it was Joe at first, but he somehow managed to slip over to talk to my mom and Alyssa in the commotion. That means it has to be…
“Connor?”
There he is, staring right at me, so I grin and wave. The wave he gives me back is subtle, but his smile is wide and welcoming, and I try not to think about how it makes my heart skip a little.
“I don’t want to alarm any of you, but I think I might be dying,” Scott’s voice carries through the living room and breaks into the chaos of Mom and I trying to help Alyssa get the girls ready for our annual Black Friday shopping. I turn to see my big brother holding his stomach like he’s afraid it’ll fall off of his body if he lets go. Which he should; I saw him pack away an ungodly stack of pancakes for breakfast ten minutes ago. It was horrifying.
“Aww,” I mock. “Is you still sick in your tum-tum from all the foods yesterday?”
“Um, I don’t know if you noticed, but I had three full plates at dinner and another before bed. That’s four!” He holds up four fingers. “A personal best!”
“Isn’t Alyssa the one who’s eating for two?” I laugh.
“Please,” Alyssa scoffs. “There isn’t enough room left in there for food and the baby. Scott’s just being a good husband and eating enough for the whole family, aren’t you, sweetie?” She walks up and kisses him on the cheek, patting him lovingly on his belly before full-on slapping it.
“Oof! Why do you hate me? All I do is care!”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “You care too much, fatty. That’s clearly your problem.”
I know, I know. I’m not supposed to call anyone fat, but sisters have rights. Also, there is not an ounce of body fat on my stupid brother. From the moment Alyssa announced she was pregnant with Gemma, Chris teased him about getting a “dad bod,” so Scott seems determined to keep that from happening. And since even my dad is still in good shape, it looks like genetics are in his favor.
Scott’s about to tackle me, but I’m saved when the front door swings open and Chris enters with his usual flourish. “Who’s ready to go shopping?”
“Me!” Gemma jumps up and down, so he picks her up and gives her a high five.
“I’ve got this one,” he declares and looks at me. “You got the other one?”
I zero in on Arielle, who’s whining into her mother’s legs, and I creep over to her. She sees me and smiles, turning it into hide-and-seek. “I got her!” I call and pick her up in a fit of giggles.
Scott shakes his head and looks at his best friend. “So you’re gonna bow out again on cooking today in favor of shopping? Well, that makes sense. You can’t even make cereal.”
I suppress a laugh. Chris is one of the best cooks I’ve ever met, and Scott knows it, too. But they can’t act like an old married couple without goading, I guess.
“Hey, Chris, Dad wants to know where you put the roast pan.” Connor walks in and I’m not even kidding when I tell you that the chaos of the house almost completely stops at the sight of him.
The poor man is instantly uncomfortable. “Uh, hi, everyone,” he waves.
“Connor, so great to see you!” Dad pipes up. “Come on in and say hi, I’ll go next door and help your dad. I told him I’d help him bring over the groceries anyhow.”
The bedlam resumes and I do my best to listen to the Price brothers’ conversation without being obvious.
“So, what’s happening again?” Connor asks.
“Since Celeste and Alyssa bust their asses for Thanksgiving every year, Dad, Chuck, and Scott make dinner for everyone the next day. Celeste, Lyss, and Jess go Black Friday shopping with the girls.”
“Aren’t we supposed to gorge on leftovers?”
“They save.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re going with the women.”
He smiles. “Because I always go with the women, you know that.”
“It’s better this way, Connor,” Scott promises. “We don’t want Gordon Ramsay over here screaming at us in the kitchen.”
“Gemma, what do we call Daddy when we’re cooking?” Chris asks the tiny girl in his arms.
“Idiot sammich!” she cheers.
Connor smiles and offers her a high five, which she happily gives him. It’s good to have him here, I decide.
“Did you seriously teach my daughter to?—”
“Allons-y!” Mom calls above the noise and loudly claps her hands.
“Uh-oh, full French mode,” I say.
“Time to move it,” Scott agrees.
“You heard Gramere, let’s go!” Chris exclaims in a rush and walks out the front door with Gemma in tow.
Mom immediately follows, kissing Scott on the cheek and yelling to Dad across the lawn that we’ll be home later. Alyssa is next, smooching my brother on the lips in a kiss that is a little more intense than I’d like to see as his sister but hey, at least they’re keeping it alive.
Scott lays eyes on Arielle in my arms and immediately regresses to a two-year-old himself, making silly faces and sounds to get a reaction from her. She nuzzles into my neck and laughs coyly before he leans in and hugs us both. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says to me.
A lump forms in my throat, thinking of all the Black Fridays I missed when I was married. A tradition held since I was seven years old was wiped clean when my husband deemed his family more important than mine. I fight the tears that are welling up. “Me, too,” is all I can say before forcing him to hug me again so I can wipe my face on his shirt.
“You’re disgusting, but I’m still glad you’re here.” He ruffles my hair.
“Not the hair!” I exclaim and slap at him while walking out the front door.
“Not hair, Daddy!” Arielle scolds as I buckle her into her car seat.
“Dude!” Chris calls. “You know better than that!”
Scott gives a quick glance into the minivan to make sure his kids aren’t looking and then shows Chris his middle finger.
My nieces don’t see, but my mom sure does. “Arrêtez ?a les enfants!”
“Desole, Maman,” from Scott.
With that, we pile into the minivan and Alyssa drives us towards the mall.
Arielle is in her car seat next to me in the very back, and she reaches for my fingers. I take her tiny hand in mine and smile at her. She says nothing, she just looks happy to be next to me.
Chris is in the middle row with Gemma and turns around to talk to me when he catches sight of the quiet moment I’m having with my niece. Whatever he was going to say leaves him, and he just smiles and winks at me before facing back forward.
He was there for me the night it all fell apart. Exactly three years ago today, actually.
I can’t believe there was ever a time I was convinced that missing these moments was okay. That I let someone take it all away.
Well,I think as I kiss Ari’s soft hair, never again.