“So, first thing
Monday morning, I’m initiating the first of several new initiatives. As of
Monday, the ‘Fresh Air for Cannes’ law goes into effect. Simply said, it will
no longer be legal to break wind in the town’s limits. Shall we eat?”
The mayor sat down
and flicked his napkin over his lap.
“Did he say what I
think he said?” Bird asked.
“Breaking wind
means farts, right?” Fred asked.
“Legend. Epic
legend,” said Remington.
There was a lull.
No one said a word, and I imagined they were all concentrating on not farting.
I jumped when Grandma cleared her throat.
“I think we could
start, Mayor, by going around the table and whoever wants to, can say what they
are thankful for,” she said. “I’ll start, I’m thankful that there’s love in the
world, that people find their soulmates and have a lifetime of love.”
Holden squeezed my
hand, and I swallowed.
The declarations
of gratitude went around the table until it got to Remington. “I’m thankful for
it all,” he said and smiled. I held my breath, but he was true to his word. He
didn’t look my way and never let on that he and I had gone for a tumble in his
sheets every day for the past two weeks.
Whore.
Plus one.
Ruth’s niece,
Julie was just about to say what she was grateful for – – probably for having
all of her fingers and toes, despite her accident with a food processor last
week– – when there was a loud stomping down the stairs. I closed my eyes,
knowing full well who was making the noise and dreading what came next.
I wished for a
time machine or a teleportation device, or just to be invisible or to not
exist. But none of my wishes came true. No matter how hard I wished, my mother was
there, her hair a rat’s nest on her head, her lipstick smeared past her lips
and over her cheek, and her clothes were wrinkled, like she had slept in them,
and of course she had. She was in that sweet spot before she had finished
sleeping off her drunk, right before her hangover started and she had to
contend with being sober. She was meanest during her sweet spots.
“What the hell?” she
screeched. “You started without me? I live here, you know. What am I thankful
for? It sure isn’t my daughter or my mother-in-law.”
I closed my eyes
and prayed that someone would fart.
