Seven to One, to One - 1. Chapter 1

Seven to One, to One

“Are you sure this is a good idea? Having my mom and dad at the same dinner table? I really do think you are asking for trouble.” Warren stared at his husband and wife with trepidation. “You both know neither one is particularly thrilled with our living arrangement. That’s bound to wind one of them up. Mom is convinced we are all going to hell over it - and dad, well; let’s just say he hasn’t forgiven your brother yet for tossing him out of the commitment-ceremony reception.”

Allen shrugged. “Billy wouldn’t have tossed him out if he hadn’t started badmouthing Cara. You or I would have done the same thing. Billy just beat us to it.”

“Relax, sweetheart. With my parents and Allen’s there - and Billy and Jackie - I am sure we can keep things under control.”

“Yeah,” Allen chimed in. “They are all on our side. If things go nuts it’ll be 7 to 2. Or maybe 7 to 1 to 1,” He giggled. “We win hands down.”

“You are NOT helping here, baby!” Cara slapped playfully at one of her husbands. “Isn’t he nervous enough?”

***

Warren was worried. His parents had been divorced many moons ago for good reason. Putting them in the same room together always seemed to move from polite iciness to complete mayhem in record time. The fights were not just shouting matches, either; sometimes fists flew. Both parents were opinionated, bigoted homophobes, and his mom was prone to physical violence. It always astonished the people around them when the diminutive woman would explode, often swinging at people several times her size.

God, I hope Cara is right and having the rest of the family around has a calming influence on them.

***

Thanksgiving morning dawned clear and unseasonably warm. It was a perfect day to break out the turkey fryer. Warren swept the deck off and wiped down the lawn furniture. He smiled when he looked into the kitchen window to see Cara shoving a whole bag of potatoes at Allen to peel. The weather had been the only thing really worrying her about the day. If it had rained, or worse yet, snowed, the bird would have to go in the oven, and that would have really cramped the cooking!

She had woken the men before dawn. With all three of them working full time, there hadn’t been time before the holiday to do some of the last-minute stuff like sweeping the deck and polishing the silver. The oven had been going full blast with a rotation of pies and cookies all morning, and Cara had turned into a civilian version of Allen’s old drill sergeant.

Her battle plans had been set days ago and the shopping completed last weekend. The heavy cleaning was done, and preparation was down to the little details. The parents were all due around noon, and Billy and his family had just arrived. He and Warren had the kids collecting branches from the woods behind the house for a fire later.

Everyone was smiling as they came up on the deck, having collected a respectably sized pile of twigs and branches to supplement the firewood for the evening. They did pretty well for a pair of preschoolers. They all trooped into the house and put the parade on TV for the children. Just as he was settling down with his brother-in-law for a cup of coffee and some purloined cookies, the doorbell rang - a split second before the door slammed open announcing the arrival of Warren’s parents. Or should I say the combatants? he thought.

“If that stupid floozy they are shacking up with here had told me you were coming, I would have saved myself the plane fare!”

“I’m not any happier about spending time with you, either, Mister Wise Mouth!”

“Better than being a gutter mouth like you!”

“All right that’s quite enough!” Warren shouted, trying to interrupt the two before they got to the point of no return. “There are children in the room, and I will thank you not to call my wife a floozy!”

Richard turned to see Warren and his brother-in-law Billy standing between him and the children.

“Oh, Jesus! They even invited the bouncer!”

Warren grabbed Billy around the waist before he could lunge at the ill-mannered ass. Cara and Allen came running into the room drying their hands. Billy’s wife, Jackie, must have stayed behind in the kitchen where she could mind things on the stove and lie low simultaneously.

“Do you two have to start before you even walk in the front door? What did you do, share a cab and start back at the hotels?” Cara was red in the face and wasn’t waiting for Warren to try his usual peacemaking talks on these two. “You are guests in our home. You can man up and behave yourselves, or you can leave. That includes treating my other guests with respect. I don’t expect the two of you to play nice. I will settle for you ignoring each other. But you WILL play nice with everyone else, including my brother-in-law.”

As the group stared each other down, the door opened again, and a cheery-faced woman popped her head in.

“Hi, everyone! Sorry we are a tad early, but….” Her voice trailed off as the assembled group turned to her. “Oh, my. I guess we are not as early as I tried to be.”

“Come on in, Momma. Warren’s parents were just saying hello in their unique way. Daddy, you are in charge of the children so Billy and Jackie can have some time off today, too.” As she hugged her mom, Cara whispered in her ear. “You get Sonya, and Allan’s dad gets Richard. See if you can manage to keep them apart till dinner time. I’m thinking football in the den will help.”

Her mom giggled conspiratorially and felt like part of the Mission Impossible team.

***

As the family gathered around the table, there was little conversation. Every time Warren’s parents laid eyes on each other, the fireworks started. By this time everyone was afraid that one misplaced word could spark the next fight. Sonya and Richard had covered a lot of ground in the last three hours, everything from who got the better hotel to how clumsy he was to have torn her coat in the cab door. Somehow the fact he was in a separate cab, and it was her rush to be in the door before him that caused the damage made no difference. Of course, his pointing it out did not help, either.

Cara’s family had a longstanding tradition. Whoever was carving the bird would make the blessing at the same time. Since Allen completely turned any bird he attempted to carve to turkey-salad material, the task was left to Warren.

“Thank you for the blessings we enjoy, having those we love around us for the holidays, the bounty of this table and of our pantries the rest of the year, and mostly for my loving wife and husband. I never would be where I am now without them both.”

“You can say that again” Richard mumbled, not quite low enough to not be heard.

Warren shot him a dirty look and dismembered the bird in short order. He put a turkey leg on each of the children’s plates, making them both smile in delight. He figured they would never finish them at the meal, but they were sure to want a snack sometime between now and bedtime. Cara’s dad had been regaling them with tales of Hobomok and Squanto helping the people of Plymouth Plantation all afternoon, and they couldn’t wait to see if they could start a fire the way grampa said the Indians did.

“Will you stop filling those children’s heads with nonsense? All that tripe about Indians and white folk getting along is rubbish. Everyone knows how ill-behaved the Indians were when the settlers came.”

“Sonya, did you pay no attention at all in school? If it hadn’t been for Massasoit and his tribe, none of us would be here now.” Richard was quite proud of the fact his line could be traced back to the Mayflower Compact. “Now here, have some spiced cranberries, and behave yourself.”

The little ones looked at each other wide-eyed as they nibbled at their turkey legs. They were intuitive little buggers and could smell a blowup coming. It had been brewing since Sonya had blamed Diane for spoiling the centerpiece. All the child had done was pick up a crushed flower from the floor.

“Now that dinner is starting to wind down, I want to say I am thankful for having all of you in my life. You have each had a big part in making me who I am. Who else would like to say a few words?” Cara looked around the table.

“I would,” Richard scowled. “Let’s start with the fact I am NOT thankful for ….”