Chapter 17 #2
From everyone else’s point of view, Katie was just hogging the holiday dessert—not giving my uncle a yuletide blowy on the dining room table. And with the way my family always remained focused on their own plates… I was hoping they didn’t catch the giant glowing dick in the bowl next to them.
As if seeing my uncle’s dong in the pistachio fluff wasn’t bad enough, watching my best friend deep throat it on the dining room table wasn’t any better.
I nudged her under the table. “Would you knock it off?” I whisper-yelled.
“Fine, fine, I’ll save my dessert for after dinner.” She tented her napkin over the bowl, but it slowly sank—signaling Uncle Silas had given up and I could finally breathe.
Dinner was so silent a pin could have dropped and you’d have thought an anvil fell from the ceiling. I’d lost my appetite after Katie’s little show and frankly couldn’t wait until it was time for the gift exchange—one step closer to the night being over.
Just then, movement in the corner of my eye pulled me toward the study.
Oh God.
No.
I shook my head—not wanting to create a scene.
Get. Out. Of. Here, I mouthed through clenched teeth.
Uncle Silas, fluid in his glowing grape cigar-smelling essence, clung to the walls like a creeping fungus, then flowed onto the shelves filled with my uranium glass collection. He wove through glowing platters, parfait glasses, teacups, and pitchers until—
…clink…
He’d bumped the candy dish into a set of salt and pepper shakers and everyone looked up.
Luckily, Uncle Silas disappeared, only leaving behind his smoky essence that blended seamlessly into the fluorescent glow of the green glass.
I sighed. “Hmm, must not have placed the lid on properly when I dusted the other day.”
Graham glanced at me, confused, and clocked the beads of sweat forming on my brow. “You okay?” he asked from the corner of his mouth.
I nodded, wide-eyed and horrified at the thought of what would’ve happened if Uncle Silas—
Before the thought could finish, Uncle Silas materialized behind Daddy and dove into his body, causing him to collapse face-first into his plate.
“Charles!?” Mom rose, clutching her necklace.
Dad sprang back into his seat almost instantly—eyes now glowing in that telltale, Silas Harney just possessed me green.
Son-of-a-bitch.
I slumped forward, my elbows hitting the table with a dull thud, and buried my head in my hands.
“Maggie, what’s the matter with your dad?” Hunter asked mid-chew.
“No clue,” I lied.
Graham just sat there, hand to his mouth, staring. Why wouldn’t he? Last time, he was the man on the inside. Now, he got to witness the shit-show we all did the last time Uncle Silas possessed someone.
Derek typed something into his special watch, most likely clocking the time of possession, or maybe the rate of spectral animation.
God, I needed a drink.
Everyone else just stared, mouth agape, while they watched “Daddy” clean his face with his napkin.
“Maggie, I must say, that’s quite a mighty fine glaze on that ham.”
I stared, dumbfounded.
“Annie made it,” I managed.
“Gemma, my dear, would you be so kind as to join me in the coat closet? I do believe I have a rather large inconvenience in my trousers that perhaps you could attend to.”
“Oh, shit!” Graham chuckled, taking a drink.
“Oh God, eww!” I recoiled, then elbowed Graham in the ribs.
He grunted. “What?”
“Ooo—come, come, come, dear… or at least I hope we do.” Uncle Silas made my dad jump up, grab Gemma’s arm, and dash out of the dining room like there was a fire following behind them.
I scanned the table, mortified.
Katie sat there with a smirk the entire time.
I kicked her foot under the table and mouthed, “Do something!”
“Oh—Um—!!” She jumped up. “Let me get some more potatoes to go around.”
Fuuuck! Like this was what I needed. And now of all times? I couldn’t believe Uncle Silas would be so careless… so thoughtless… as to possess another innocent man after what happened last time—let alone my father.
Giggles and rhythmic thuds followed by moans from both Katie and Gemma echoed from the coat closet, through the kitchen, and into the dining room.
“Jesus Christ, Graham.” I leaned over to him, fanning myself. “I think I’m going to pass out.”
“I think I might join you… but first, pie.” Graham grabbed his plate and shoved off from the table, his chair skittering across the wooden planks.
A few seconds later he returned with the entire triple berry pie I’d baked him and a fork. I glanced over to Hunter and held his hand, running my thumb over his, but he pulled back and threw his napkin on the table.
“You okay?”
“Peachy.”
I lowered my voice so as to not draw attention. “Hunter, what is it?”
“I can’t believe the amount of time you spent on that.” He jabbed a finger toward Graham. “Hand selecting berries. Cutting the little shapes out of dough. And mine didn’t warrant a second thought, did it?”
“What? You asked for Rice Krispie Bars with red and white sprinkles. No matter what I would have done to them, it wouldn’t take more than twenty minutes. If you wanted me to spend more time, request a harder dessert.”
Hunter stood, looking down his nose at Graham. “Leave it to him to request the most time-consuming pie. I’d wager he just wanted to keep you busy with your mind on him for as long as possible.”
“Huh?” I looked back at Graham, who had already devoured a quarter of the thing. What in the actual fuck just happened?
“Maggie, your friends are mighty rude, and I’m afraid it has rubbed off on you. Why on earth would you make such a beautiful pie for a man other than your fiancé?” Mom said, crossing her arms.
“Ugh, he’s not my fiancé.”
Hunter’s jaw tightened, something dangerous moving behind his eyes. “No, but I am your boyfriend. And I deserve better than this.”
“Oh my God, really?” I glanced to Graham, who was now hunched over the pie, elbows on the table, protective like it was the only thing giving him life.
Pushing away from the table, I grabbed my plate and stood. “You want something better? Here.” I picked up a square box wrapped in sleek matte black paper and a thick gold ribbon, and shoved it toward him. “Open it. I’ll tell you all about it.”
Hunter slowly untied the ribbon, something in his face going still.
“You know how you’ve been on a sake kick the past month?
I saw this set in the window of Enotekaa.
It’s a handmade set of six double-bottom gold foil sake glasses.
I figured it would be good for when you have your production crew over, instead of having to use my mismatched bourbon tumblers.
It was recommended by the sommelier as the best way to enjoy the aromatics and flavor of his curated sake collection.
” I pulled out a black paper bag, inside four bottles of sake.
“Got those for you too. Cost me three grand.”
The room was silent.
“Not enough? Okay, here’s some diamond-studded twenty-four karat gold cufflinks and a tie tack to match. Eight hundred.” I handed him a small box from the buffet. “Need more? How ‘bout some bike shoes? Three hundred.” I pulled another box from the pantry and threw it at him.
“Ak-ward…” Noel declared before taking a drink of her water.
“New shorts? One fifty.” The last bag I had stuffed under the dining room table.
I grabbed it and pushed it into his chest. Tears of anger welled just inside my lashes.
“So no. I may not have spent hours making your favorite holiday dessert. But I did spend weeks planning and procuring everything so you could have a happy fucking holiday with me.”
“I’m sorry, mo chróí. I had no idea.” He set his gifts in his chair and scooped me into a hug, kissing my forehead.
“Why would you? The only thing you care about is that the man that saved my life a few months ago is sitting at our table enjoying a pie I made just for him.” I pushed back off his chest. “Take your gifts, I’m mad at you right now.”
“Maggie, I—”
“Ooo—presents!” Katie blurted as she returned. “Meet me in the great room, everyone! I’ll start passing!”
Hunter gathered his things and carried them to the study, where he sat behind the desk and poured himself a glass of sake.
Annie grabbed some dishes and met me at the buffet. “You okay, Sugs?”
“No. But I guess I have to be.”
“Come on, let’s put it behind us and come see what I got ya.” She motioned to the great room.
Graham rose and carried his empty pie plate to the kitchen. I bit both lips as I looked up at him. “Sorry, you had to hear that,” I said, gripping my elbow with one hand.
“Oh, did something happen? I was lost in a triple-berry paradise.”
I blinked. I couldn’t entirely tell if he was serious or not.
The closet door clicked behind Daddy and Gemma as they slunk out, Gemma tugging at her hem, ectoplasm dripping down a leg.
Oh hell no—ew!
I grabbed a towel from the bathroom and flung it under Gemma, just as she was about to sit on the cream sectional.
“Okay, Maggie-girl, first the aunts wish you a happy solstice and were truly disappointed they couldn’t make it.” Katie held out a large box the size of a small microwave. “Open. Now! I’m dying to see your reaction.”
I did and pulled out one ceramic casting. It was a hand holding a boob finished in an iron-speckled glaze—Ruby’s? And the other piece… Different hand. Different boob. This one a mossy green with golden flecks—Clover.
I blinked at Katie.
Graham lost it.
Mom was mortified.
And Daddy leaned in, inspecting. “Well… definitely not twins… but sisters for sure,” he said, pulling out his glasses to get a better look.
I rolled my eyes. “Katie, tell them thank you. And I’ll put them on the mantel.”
“I will! But do mine now!” She handed me a small box wrapped in silver foil paper. I tore it open excitedly. But once I peeked inside the box, I bit my tongue and extracted the perfectly glazed blue ceramic dick and vagina salt and pepper shakers.
“God, is everything sexual tonight?”
“Not everything. Just Graham.” Katie elbowed him in the gut.