Chapter 20
Twenty
“You have news? Tell us news. Make quick so we eat. Food getting cold.” Jittering her leg impatiently, my mom glances longingly at the dinner table.
“Once again,” Aunt Cherry rolls her eyes, “Holly gets her way. My house is bigger and yet… we’re back at Holly’s for Christmas Eve.”
“Seriously…” Jen gestures to the guest-packed living room. “What is this special announcement that can’t wait until after dinner?”
Stroking my fat cat, I settle into my wingback armchair. I feel like that Bond villain Blofeld (except with better hair), about to drop my evil monologue.
Elliot looms behind me, his hands clasped behind his back, scrutinizing the guests’ body language.
Aside from my niece and nephew, the dog, and Uncle Tony (who has the personality of a potato), everyone is tense. Everyone looks off.
Paige is literally on the edge of her beige seat while simultaneously disappearing into the seat.
Dennis’ mullet looks suspiciously ruffled.
Manny, decked out in his UPS uniform and a red scarf, obsessively checks his phone. He’s working today and technically on his lunch break, but he still looks jittery—like he’s ready to bolt and we all know he’s not looking forward to delivering packages on Christmas Eve.
Ivy’s dragging her acrylic nails over Victor’s back and chanting affirmations in his ear.
Brian’s hand is tucked in his pocket, jiggling his keys and the spare nuts he’s always carrying around, scattering peanut shells on the floor.
Aunt Cherry’s roots are beginning to show.
My mom is wearing her Kirkland purple puffer jacket rather than the Patagonia one she reserves for special occasions.
Mayor Thornberry’s got a red nose and the sniffles. He’s either fighting a cold or has been freebasing coke in his dated ‘80s mansion.
Jen looks like she’s put on fifteen pounds since we last interrogated her.
If you ask me, everyone looks guilty.
A moment of silence descends upon us. Everyone is eyeing each other like we’re participants in a murder mystery dinner, which, technically, we are, except there is no murder… just the phantoms of mysterious turds.
“As everyone is already aware,” I begin, “someone defecated on my floor during Thanksgiving.” I point to the Christmas tree nook. “Right over there. One of you did it. Now’s the time to confess.” I scan the faces of my guests. “Which one of you took a shit on my floor?”
Blank faces. Nervous throat-clearing. Obviously, no one steps forward. Cowards.
“This is dumb.” Jen jumps up from her seat, her lime green yeti sweater shedding on the upholstery. “I’m not going to sit here and have you accuse us—”
“Sit down!” I’m done playing games. “We have reason to believe the perp also attacked me at the parade. It’s all connected in a diabolical plot of harassment and intimidation.”
“For what purpose?” Cousin Victor snickers. He’s wearing a Santa cap and the tightest red muscle tee that could fit around his bulky torso. “To gross you out?”
“Yes! To gross me out. Maybe scare me out of running for mayor…” I shoot Thornberry a pointed look. Ivan glares back at me. “…ruin my carpet, my clothes, and my holidays.”
Manny shakes his head. “That’s messed up.”
“It is, Manny,” I say. “It’s sadistic is what it is. I’ve got one hell of cleaning bill for that person. That’s carpet cleaning and dry cleaning combined. My parade dress is ruined. Thank you for asking.”
Jen rolls her eyes. “Give me a break.”
“You seem unusually defensive, Jen.” I arch an eyebrow. “Is there something you want to say to me?”
“Jen is innocent,” my mom interrupts. “She family.” Her judgmental gaze settles on Dennis, perched on the arm on the sofa. “This one… I don’t know about this one.”
“I didn’t do it!” Dennis snaps. “I like Holly!”
“Leave Dennis alone,” Aunt Cherry says, nodding to her suspect. “You should be looking at him!”
Everyone turns to Brian, squeezed into a giant striped armchair next to my sister. Brian holds up his dry hands. “Me?”
“You hate Holly because she dumped you,” Aunt Cherry says. “You’re still stalking her.”
“Okay,” Jen cracks her neck muscles, “let’s set the record straight. Brian’s with me now. He went out with Holly for three weeks…” She holds up her hand, waving her finger to show off a gold band with the world’s tiniest and dullest diamond. “But I’ve got the ring.”
Victor and Ivy chime into the argument until my living room is a cacophony of accusations.
Everyone claims innocence. Everyone thinks someone else did it.
My faith in humanity hangs by a thread. What is wrong with these people?
Christmas Eve is a time of togetherness.
We’re all together, but we couldn’t be more apart.
My heart hurts. We’re torn asunder by turds.
“Quiet!” I shout. “I’m giving you one last chance to confess and I’ll go easy on you.”
“‘Go easy on us?’” Jen repeats in her hateful way.
“That’s right,” I nod. “I’ll eat my dry cleaning bill and you can just pay me back for the carpet.” I pause for a moment. “And the power wash for my basement steps. There was shit in there, too.”
“Why don’t you tell us who did it?” Mayor Thornberry straightens his cheap bolo tie. “You look like you’re dying to show off. So go ahead,” he challenges, “start making your false accusations.”
I take a deep breath. I would like to slap him, but I won’t.
I don’t believe in violence. I’m visualizing it, though.
“I can’t tell you who did it because I don’t know who did it…
yet. But he does.” Glancing over my shoulder, I defer to Elliot, who had been noticeably silent the entire time. “Elliot, if you please.”
“I will.” Elliot takes the floor.
“Oh and by the way,” I can’t resist adding, “I hired Elliot to investigate all of you. We’re actually not dating.”
Mom slaps her hands together. “I knew it! Ah… something funny about you two.” She taps her temple. “I always know.”
Brian glances triumphantly around the room. “I also had doubts. You’re too good for that loser—Ouch!” He rubs his side and scowls at my sister.
“Shut up.” Jen pinches him again.
Aunt Cherry does a double take. “But you two seemed so in love!”
“We’re not in love, Aunt Cherry.” A hot flush creeps up my neck as I meet Elliot’s amused gaze.
“We only pretended so you wouldn’t suspect that I’m having you investigated.”
Paige clears her throat. “We knew. At least I knew.”
I frown. “You did?”
“You two were horrible actors,” Paige says. “No offense.”
“Well,” I shrug, a touch affronted. “I thought our charade was pretty good.”
“Your ‘charade’? So you’re a liar,” Mayor Thornberry snorts. “Is that what you’re saying?” He glances around the room, making sure everyone’s aware of my duplicity. “What else have you lied about? Personally, I wouldn’t vote a known liar into office, but that’s just me.”
“So you’re single?” Dennis runs his hands through his mullet. “And free Friday night?”
Elliot clenches his jaw. “That’s enough out of you, Dennis.”
“I’m free Friday,” I say.
Dennis winks at me. Before I can wink back, Elliot blocks him from my line of sight. “You were going to teach me how to make candles on Friday,” he reminds me.
I frown. “I was?”
“Yeah,” Elliot says meekly. “Remember?”
“But you declined. Several times. You hate candles.”
Elliot ducks his head, embarrassed. “I changed my mind.”
I blink. “You suddenly developed an overpowering need to learn candle making?”
“Yes.” Elliot nods as if convincing himself. “I yearn to know how to make,” he clears his throat, “candles. And only you can teach me.”
“I’m so confused,” Aunt Cherry says, watching our exchange, “how are you not a couple? You’re giving each other such sexual looks!”
“Aunt Cherry!” Mortified, I peer up at Elliot apologetically. Our gaze locks for one vulnerable moment, a question simmering beneath the surface. My heart skips a beat.
We’re not really talking about candles, are we?
Elliot tips his head to the side, his irises darkening into smoldering onyx. With a gasp, I turn my head. What was that? A sexual look?
I didn’t know we had a date on Friday, but suddenly I’m looking forward to it. I’ll not only teach him how to make a candle, I’ll introduce him to my collection of big wicks.
Mom glares at Elliot’s crotch. “So your thing does work? You are not impotent?”
Dennis and Brian snicker.
“I um…” Elliot defers to me for help. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
Mom smiles, blissfully happy. “It is time to give me grandchild.”
Ah family! Sometimes I dream about moving across the country and changing my name.
“How can he give Holly a grandchild…?” Jen blows a strand of hair out of her eyes. “If they’re not even dating?”
“Holly is old maid,” Mom says. “I’ve lowered my expectations. You,” she points at Elliot, “Mr. Hot Shot Detective, use your sexual looks to make sexy time with Holly and give me grandchild.”
Elliot makes a strangled sound. “I don’t think that’s in my job description.”
“Speaking of grandchildren,” Victor says, touching Ivy’s stomach, “we’ve got an announcement to make…”
Aunt Cherry’s eyes widen. “You don’t mean—?”
Victor nods proudly. “Yes.”
As recognition dawns, Aunt Cherry jumps up and smothers their faces with kisses. “I’m going to be a grandma again!” I wrinkle my nose at Ivy. She’s seated in the lotus position, rubbing her flat belly with a secretive smile and looking like the epitome of a New Age influencer.
“Ask them where they conceived the baby,” I mutter.
“I’m happy for you,” Mom chokes out, then slits her eyes at me.
“Cherry has three grandchildren and what do I have? Nothing!” She points her finger at Elliot as if my childlessness is partially his fault.
“You two stop this foolishness about poo-poo and go upstairs right now. We wait, then have dinner.”
“Mom!” Jen covers her face. “You’re. So. Embarrassing.”
It’s the first time my sister and I agreed on something. I can’t even look at Elliot anymore. After this ordeal is finished, I may never be able to face him again.