Thanksgiving: A Geshichte Falls Story

[ChrisGibson]

PART ONE

For the first time in months, the Geshichte Falls branch of the Lewis family met together in the house on Breckinridge Avenue.
“Thom’s going to move into the house for Thanksgiving?” Jackie raised an eyebrow.
“Both of our families are coming,” Patti said, “and they’re used to having dinner here. It would be stupid for your family to come and Thom not be present. And my family’s going to wonder where the hell we are?”
“So basically,” Jackie assessed, lighting her cigarette, “You all are going to pretend to be together. I’m going to pretend to be happy with Chip. John’s going to pretend not to have a crush on me. Patti’s going to pretend her sister is sane. I’m going to pretend that I actually like Kristen, she’s going to pretend to like me. And to top it off, Mom’s going to pretend she’s still thirty-five years old?”
“And,” added Russell looking at his parents, “we’re going to pretend to be one happy, united nuclear family.”
“But we are happy,” Thom said. “Just not... when we’re together.”
Russell raised an eyebrow at his father, who tried to smile.

“Mickey, La’Velle, Felice, Dena, Maitland?”
“Methodists all,” Chayne said. “And don’t forget Wyatt and Joseph and Brandon. Now it’s Pethane I’m worried about because I think she’s gone Pentecostal.”
“Gilead?” Amber asked.
“Gilead, Shonda, Derrell—they’re all Catholics. It’s the Evangelicals I’m worried about,” Chayne reflected as he continued putting together the list.
“It can’t be that hard,” Russell said.
“Yes,” Chayne disagreed. “It can be. Be grateful to be Irish, Russell. At least your family’s one thing. Before we get to dessert half the table’s gon be calling one half statue worshippers and the other half is going be shouting back Bible Thumpers ,and I’m going to have to hide the cutlery. And that’s just the Wynns.”
“Any Prince’s coming?” Amber asked.
“Thank God, no.”
“I forgot, “Amber remarked, getting up and going to the kitchen. “No one likes the Princes... Not even the Princes.”
Chayne could only shrug.
“Well, I guess I’ll be back in a few days,” said Russell, sighing.
“Oh, Russell, it’s no need to be so morose,” Chayne told him. “After all, you are going home. And it’s only three blocks away.
Russell shrugged, and smiled woefully all the same.
It was Wednesday afternoon and there was enough chill in the air for Russell to wish for his brown parka. When he got to 1735 Breckinridge Avenue, he wanted to keep walking, not because he didn’t want to be in the large faux Tudor, but because the day was so beautiful with the trees that were not yet bursting with color, still a thick, rich green.
It was strange to be in the large bedroom that overlooked the Corley’s yard and had the little balcony. It was dust free, clean, and Russell realized his mother must have cleaned up. He collapsed on the bed, blinked at the ceiling a few times and was surprised to wake up in a darker room, with the last of the sun slanting through the west window and a ring at the doorbell, and then laughter. Russell sat up in bed, listening to the conversation before he decided to go downstairs.
“Oh, my God!” he heard his Aunt Jackie, and then a familiar voice, “Jackie! Aw, Jackie!” and there was the noise of children.
It must have been Uncle John.
John Mc.Llarchlahn was the only man beside Chayne that Russell had ever broken into the a run for, and he came down the hall, and then down the stairs to where his mother, Jackie and John stood in a clump surrounded by three towheaded children shrieking and running circles about them.
“Russ!” John looked up at his nephew. “Let me get a look at you. God, you’ve grown!”
Russell flung himself into John’s arms, and the older man tried to pick his nephew up, but almost failed.
“Huge!” he grunted and put him down.
John Mc.Llarchlahn did not resemble his sister. In fact, he looked more like Thom than anything else. He was only a little taller than his brother-in-law and he was dark complexioned with full red lips, full chin and full nose, full smile, and dark lashes over coal dark eyes. He was, like his three fair children, blond, but his hair was darker, and to the sides, where it was shaved, it was almost brunette. John resembled his and Patti’s mother, whom—it was reputed—had Italian blood in her, though she wasn’t admitting it.
“Patti, who does Russell look like?” John asked. “Jackie?”
“I always thought he was a changeling,” Jackie shrugged.
“He looks like Dad,” Patti said. “Only attractive.”
“He doesn’t look anything like Dad,” John differed. His sons were tugging on him, “Enough, boys,” he said gently. They ignored him and he ignored their tugging.
“Red hair, green eyes,” said Patti, “Pale skin. Yes he does. He just isn’t shaped like a potato the way Daddy is. And he’s got Aunt Devon’s build. The same build Mary and Laura have.”
“Great Russell, you’ve look like half the women of the family,” John grinned at his nephew wolfishly.
“Stop John,” Patti chided. “He looks like Dan.”
“Shit, he does!” John realized.
Russell had given up on remembering names. When both families got together, they talked about cousins no one had seen for years, far flung branches of the family that had once been together. “And a little bit like Laura’s boys.”
“I’ve never seen Laura’s boy’s.” John said.
“Yes you have...”
Russell knew who Laura was. She had grown up with his mother and her siblings in Chicago, once he’d even seen her children and her husband when Patti had brought Thom and him to a dinner in Chicago, but he didn’t really remember them or just how Laura was related to his mother. So he looked at Jackie, as if to say, “I know who you are, though,” and she shrugged.
Russell felt a pull on his trouser pocket, heard a roar, and looked down, “Hey, Frankie!” he said to his cousin.
“Rushell!” Frankie shouted up, proud of himself for no apparent reason.
“Wassup, Russell!” Tommy yelled up, and Russell was about to answer when the other little boy laughed and ran into the kitchen.
“Aunt Patti! Aunt Patti!” Ross shouted up, “Cookie!”
“Whaddo you say, Ross?” John reprimanded the boy.
“Please, Aunt Patti. Cookie!”
“I think,” Patti allowed, “we can manage a cookie or so.”
“Can we manage a little more than that, Sis? I’m starved.”
“You know we don’t cook the night before Thanksgiving. We’re gonna be in the kitchen all night as it is.”
John kept staring at her. “Alright. Get the phone book and we’ll order a few pizzas. I’ll get the money from Thom when he comes in the house.”
“You strapped, Sis?”
Patti looked at John puzzled and then said, “No.”

As Thom came in the house through the front door. John got up to greet him and their was a roaring in the driveway near the kitchen door as a motorcycle roared into driveway with a sputtering stop.
John and Thom stopped in mid embrace, eyebrows raised. Russell and the kids looked at each other. Jackie and Patti looked at each other wisely, and then there was a knock at the door, and through the panes they saw him before Patti let him in.
Thom cleared his throat and prepared to say the name before his sister said half in scorn and half in admiration, “Finn!”
“Sis!” Even when he opened his mouth wide and grinned, Finn Lewis seemed to be mumbling. “Bro,” he gave a sideways grin to Thom. “Hot Mama,” he murmured in Patti’s direction, clapping her ass, “Little Russ.” John and his chidlren were, “Peoples!”
Finn was ruddy liky his sister with the dark Lewis hair. Though one wouldn’t have known it because he was dressed from head to toe in studded leather, had an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth and shades that almost never came off, he was, like Thom, regarded as being breathtakingly handsome. He was twelve years younger than Thom though, and unlike his brother, Finn was tall. He was ten when Russell was born, and Russell’s middle name had been given in honor of him because he’d been so attentive to Patti.
It was not the shades or the leather or his attractiveness beneath the leather that anyone took notice of though. It was the short woman who hung on Fenian Valerie Lewis’s shoulder. Shorter than Thom and, most probably, older.
“Thissis Meg,” Finn smiled and maintained the singular feat of keeping the unlit cigarette in the corner of his mouth while chewing on is gum and chucking the woman under the chin. “She’s got great tits, right?”
“Aw baby,” the brunette laughed and kissed him on the mouth, “You say the sweetest things.”

Frank, Denise and Sara Mc.Llarchlahn arrived the same time as Kathleen Lewis. Both of Patti’s parents were actors, though admittedly not very good ones, and so was Kathleen, so they all entered the house with a flourish, in the midst of the second pizza. Kathleen, being the worst actor, made the best entrance, sweeping in and crying, “Darlings!” while Thom leaned over and asked Jackie where the hell Mom had gotten a British accent from.
“She’s from Caton West Virginia for God’s sakes!”
“Thom stop—”
“Jaclyn, darling!” Kathleen said, breathlessly. “You look heavenly.”
“Right back at you, Mom.”
“It’s nothing a little exercise—”
“And Miss Clarol—”
“You’re a wicked one, Jaclyn. Patricia, you look delicious. Russell! Ah, Russell!”
Kathleen Lewis was short and wide as a minute. Her hair was still blond by just the auspices Jaclyn had pointed out, though the tanning booth had made her skin a little more Samsonite than it should have been. She wore the same shades as Finn. Kathleen Lewis always made him feel like the only grandson, and then he realized that despite all of her children, he was the only grandchild though—looking at Finn—he suspected there were unclaimed countries left in the wake of wherever his bike had gone.
After Kathleen, Russell went be swallowed up by his other grandparents. Frank did resemble a potato. He had no chin and no one had any clue what he was ever talking about. Sara’s hair was still brown, and she did have John’s face. Even as she was doting over Russell, and Frank, cackling reached into his pocket to give Russell money.
“Don’t spoil him, Frank,” Sara was saying while she handed Russell a folded checked.
John’s boys came downstairs shrieking, “Grandma! Grandpa!”
Monetarily they were simpler to placate than Russell, pleased by a shiny quarter pulled from behind the ear.
Denise lagged behind and had to wait for Patti to come and greet her. Now it is said that there is “one in every family” and Denise Mc.Llarchlahn was the one in this family. She and Patti were of a height, indeed they could have been twins except that Denise actually had Russell’s luminous green eyes. She was blond, and she was sullen and she was two years older than Patti.
“Hi, Denise.”
“Hello, Patricia,” Denise could suck the pretended joy out of any friendly overture her sister tried to make. The newest of her crises had been going on for a year and a half, namely that her worthless husband—and everyone could agree on the fact that he was worthless—had left her high and dry and she had had to return to her parents’ house. Denise Lewis never left her attic bedroom, and she would never have children. She had been reputed to be barren. Now it turned out that Todd was the sterile one. But now Todd was gone.
“Oh, you must be Kathleen, I’m so pleased to meet you,”
“Charmed,” Kathleen smiled, waiting for the woman to continue.
“I’m Meg Rice. I’m with your son.”
Kathleen looked from Finn to Meg and then asked, “Do you babysit him, dear?”

The genders were separating. The television was on in the living room, and the women were beginning to migrate toward the kitchen to begin the long process of baking. There were a few who flitted from company to company. Meg, who never felt comfortable with women, Russell who could not believe he was becoming a man, and the boys who went in the direction of the most attention before settling down to nap under the table.
Thom saw headlights flash outside and a car rumble up the driveway, and he and John went to the door.
“I can’t believe it took Reese so long!” Kristen was saying before anyone could say hello. Reese made to say something, but the other men clapped him on the back, welcomed him in, and Thom said, “Hello Kristin!”
Kristen found her way to the kitchen, followed by Reese who thought the only polite thing to do was greet the women before sitting down with the men.
“Oh, my God, he’s so cute!” Meg declared.
“Kristen,” Patti said levelly.
“Kristen,” Jackie said.
“Darling!” cried Kathleen who was doing damage to a carrot.
“Who died and made you British, Mother?”
Kathleen only raised an eyebrow at her oldest child as she leaned against the counter. Kristen was tall and witch eyed with very long, gold brown hair, and she was dripping in the jewelry Reese Keillor, he short, blond, Norwegian husband had put her in. Though they’d been married nearly twenty years, they had no children. Jackie always said that Reese’s semen froze to death the moment it entered Kristen.
“Jackie, are you still doing that art thing?” Kristen asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Yes,”
“How... pleasant.” Kristen smiled and reached into her handbag for a cigarette.
“Still single?”
“No, not at all,” Jackie plastered on a smile. “Chip will probably be here tonight.”
“Oh dear,” Patti murmured.
“Chip?” Kristen pronounced the name like an ice chip hitting the ground. “Is it serious?”
“It’s…” Jackie sought for a word. “It’s going along.... nicely. I don’t know.”
“Well,” Kristen murmured lighting her cigarette. “That’s our Jackie.”
“Reese how are you?” Jackie talked over her sister to the little man from Minnesota in the grey business suit.
“Oh, I’m—”
“My God, I thought we would never get here!” Kristen went on. “Reese was driving so slow.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t completely Reese’s fault,” Kathleen said, “The highways must be crowded.”
“And all the way from Minnesota,” Reese went on.
“But if he’d gotten off of work on time,” Kristen said. “That wouldn’t have happened. I mean, really, I don’t think he had to work at all. But he just can’t keep away from the office. You know men. He’s just like Thom, isn’t he Patti? Work. Work. Work.”
“How else will he keep you in all that jewelry?” Jackie wondered, raising an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?” Kristen looked at her younger sister.
Patti cleared her throat and thought to herself that it was going to be a very long night.

The last strike came at about ten o’clock when another motorcycle rumbled into the driveway and there was a knock at the door. Knowingly, Jackie answered and Chip kissed her on the mouth and squeezed her ass.
“So this is... Chip?” Kristen smiled out of the side of her mouth and Jackie thought of decking her.
“Yes,” she smiled back at her sister. “This is Chip.”
“Delighted,” Kathleen extended a hand. Chip smiled and mumbled something. Kathleen Lewis smiled and said, “Why, yes.” but Patti could tell that her mother-in-law was mystified and Sara said whispered to her daughter, “I’m glad these aren’t my kids,” though, looking to Denise, she realized she didn’t have much room to speak.
“I’m going to introduce him to the men,” Jackie said.
“Doesn’t everybody know him?” said Patti.
“Just Thom and Russell,” Jackie navigated Chip into the next room.
“This is Chip,” she said, showing him to the ones who had never seen him. John, Frank, the three boys, Finn, Reese. They all said hello, but something thumped inside of her when John smiled and said, “Hey, Chip, good to meet you.” She didn’t exactly know what she’d expected to happen.
What she should have expected was Finn and Chip to start talking. They were mumbling and chuckling to each other about God only knew what and soon, Jackie shrugged and went back into the kitchen .
“It makes sense,” Kristen said, filing her nails. “Great minds think alike... and incidentally, so do the not so great.”

“Jackie!” she heard her name hissed as she walked down Breckinridge, and she stopped.
John caught up to her, jogging and then chuckling as he stopped beside her and the two of them began to walk at a comfortable pace.
“I thought we weren’t going to ever get to talk,” John said. “And now you’re going home.”
“Well, the foundation for dinner’s been laid out. All Patti’ll have to do in the morning is throw the stuff in the oven, or take it out of the freezer, and she’ll be finished. And now I’m finished. That was enough family to last me till Christmas.”
“Ah, God,” John rolled his eyes comically, “we’ve gotta do it all over again in another five weeks!”
“I’m serious, John,” she laughed and punched him in the shoulder.
“Me too,” John told her. They remained silent while walking, turning down Goodwin.
“One of us had better say something,” John said at last. “I mean, I don’t come all the way to Geshichte Falls just not to talk to you.”
“You came for me?” Jackie pretended to doubt this, to be unimpressed, and asked herself why she always pretended with John.
“Yes,” he said earnestly, turning her around and looking at her. For a second there was almost no distinction between the fourteen year old boy she’d met at Patti and Thom’s wedding, and the thirty year old man standing before her.
“Jackie, I missed you so much.”
She sighed and smiled. “I missed you too, John.”
“I’m not getting to sleep tonight. It’s too many people, and Russell said I could have his room, but I think he wants it to himself. I didn’t want anyone in my room when I was growing up.”
“You had your own room?”
“I was the only boy.”
“I didn’t have my own room until Kristin went off to college.”
“Kristen...” John shook her head.
“She’s a bitch,” Jackie commented tersely.
“Poor Reese.”
“He should beat her. Wanna come to my place? We’ll make coffee and talk all night. Half the night’s gone anyway.”
“Yeah,” John said. “I think I’d like that. Is Chip going to be by later?”
Jackie stopped in mid stride. “Look, John, it’s not even like that. Chip lives at his own place and keeps his own genitalia in his own pants. Besides, he’s running around with Finn.”
“That is weird.”
“Not weird,” Jackie disagreed. “Appropriate. What’s weird is how I keep attracting men like Chip.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great start to this new story! I like reading about parts of Russell and his families lives set before some of your other stories about them. Sounds like a bit of a tense family gathering. Great writing and I look forward to more soon! Have a great week!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I think it's only going to get more tense! More Russell tomorrow, and more Donovan and Cade. Have a great evening.

 

[ChrisGibson]

“So whaddo you think about all this?” John asked Jackie, sitting down on the couch beside her, his hands wrapped about his coffee mug.
“All of what? Life, liberty, the Cuban Missile Crisis?”
“All of which came before we were born. No,” John shook his head. “Do you know what Mom said to me tonight? She said, Patti too, that makes three strikes, the whole family’s out now.”
“Are you serious?” Jackie frowned, leaning forward.
John nodded.
“I’m sorry, how could she say that to you?”
“She didn’t mean it to sound that way. She was just trying to be funny, but Mom and Dad both have off humor.”
“It wasn’t your fault about Kim.” Jackie said.
“She left me,” John affirmed, “for a tennis instructor so tan he looked like luggage. But still... It’s like, what’s the point? The only married people I know are my parents, your sister and Reese, and Thom and Patti. We met each other at their wedding. We were kids then. Russell’s almost grown and their relationship’s dead Mom and Dad are crazy and Reese and Kristen... who the hell wants a marriage like that?
“I mean... is it illusion? Is love and romance and all that shit... Is it just shit?”
Jackie, on the other end of the couch, watched John’s dark eyes watching something not in the room, his lips open.
“I worked on that marriage,” John told her. “I worked. Do you think it works? Marriage...? Love.... Sometimes it all seems so useless.”
“Did you ever love Kim?” Jackie asked.
“Of course—”
“Were you ever... in love with her?”
John looked at Jackie. He put the mug down on the steamer chest.
“I... I gave my virginity to her. We were together for a long time.”
“That’s not even an answer,” Jackie turned away almost in scorn and lit a Carlton.
“I don’t know that what you’re talking about exists, Jackie,” John said.
“That romance, that head over heels love, that... in love stuff. I dated Kim. I was committed to her, I saw the future in her. I had the future in her, and then she left.”
John stopped talking. He could see Jackie almost flint eyed, staring out of the window, but he knew she wasn’t looking at Royal Street.
“Well...” she spoke at last. “We’re you ever in love with me?”
Jackie heard John suck in his breath, and she turned back to him.
“I’ve been waiting for sixteen... almost seventeen years to ask you that. Did you ever... feel anything for me?”
When John wouldn’t say anything, Jackie spoke. “I know what you’re talking about. In love. Because I know what it is to be in love, and I know what it is to settle.
“Chip is settling. That’s exactly what he is. I never found the person that I could do more than settle for. I never dated the person that made bells go off in my head, who excited me. And I’m thinking that partially that’s because I didn’t think I deserved it.”
“And now?”
Jackie paid more attention to her cigarette than the question. Then she said, after some consideration. “I’m starting to think... that a lot of people complain about the bad shake life gives them, but it’s us... We give ourselves the shake and I deserve the best shake I can get. I mean, if we’re all responsible for each other’s souls, then we’re all responsible for our own soul more than any other... and we’ve got to do right by ourselves... do the best thing for ourselves and... And I’m rambling.”
“No,” John smiled, and put up a hand. “Keep talking. I like it when you talk, Jackie. Jackie?”
“Yes?”
“I was twenty-two when it happened,” John said. “I think it’s really the reason I married Kim. You know how it is... or maybe you don’t. I was an altar boy and everything. We were a good Catholic family and I didn’t do things like that, so I figured that when I did I should marry the girl it happened with. But... I wasn’t in love with Kim. And yes, Jaclyn. I didn’t really have to think about it... I was in love with you.”

Russell, who always slept lightly, awoke to John trying to open his door as noiselessly as possible. In the dark his uncle took off his baseball cap his sneakers and jeans, and then the large plaid shirt that Russell planned to make off with and crawled into bed in his boxers.
“Your feet are so cold,” Russell hissed.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I was.”
“Well take this.”
“Ow! I’m not joking your feet are cold! Stop jabbing me with your toes!”
“I never got to have a little brother,” John explained.
“Well you’re not gonna have one now, John. I wanna go to sleep.”
“You wanna talk?”
“I just said I want to go to sleep.”
“I just thought you might want to talk. About your parents.”
“I try not to talk about my parents.”
“Oh, Russell. Your mom’s my sister. She’s the best big sister in the world. And your dad’s like the big brother I didn’t get to have. I love them both, Russell, and I know you do too.”
“It seems to me,” said Russell, sitting up. “That it’s you who needs to talk more than I.”
“More than me.”
“That’s what I said.”
“No, you’re supposed to say more than me. Not more than I.”
“Really? Grammar at one a.m.?”
“It’s two-thirty, and you seriosuly don’t want to talk about it?”
“Not right now. John, I live with it. I don’t get them. I never even bothered to try to get Dad until a little while ago. I don’t know up from down. I don’t knoq what I’d say. The divorce is taking a long time. Mom’s dating some guy—”
“She is?”
“Yeah, and the thing is I like him a lot. He’s really great for her but I don’t believe anything’s gonna come of it right now. And Dad—” Russell stopped. His mouth was going ahead of his mind.
“Thom? Thom what?”
“John, you can’t tell anyone. And that means Mom. But the week after Mom threw him out he fucked this old flame of his. She came up to visit and he spent the whole weekend banging her. Like Mom didn’t even matter. And I’m not mad at him for it... That’s the weird thing. It’s like I’m starting to like him, and I never knew he loved me until recently. Now I know he loves me, and I’m not sure I like the feeling.
“So, now that I’ve gotten all that off of my chest, how ‘bout you tell me about you and Aunt Jackie?”
“Oh now, Russell. It was a nice time. We talked. That’s all.”
“Oh, fuck you! Don’t turn into Uncle John right now after you wake me up and make me tell you... stuff. Tell me. Are you all going to get together.”
“She’s dating someone.”
“Chip’s a loser and she knows it. Jackie can do better than Chip any day of the week. I bet she just has him so she can say she has someone.”
“Russell!”
“Am I wrong? Com’on, John, this is getting tired, the two of you pussy footing around. You’ve been divorced for almost three years now, and you didn’t have any business marrying Kim.”
“I loved her.”
“Bullshit!”
“Russell, wash your mother out. You’re still a kid.”
“Bullshit, John. You married her cause you screwed her. I might not be that old, but I’ve know you my whole life. You drop a lot of hints. The two of you were never in love and, incidentally, I always hated Kim. Jackie did too.”
John stared at his nephew in the dark.
“Of course she did,” Russell went on. “Kim Bayle had moved in on her turf.”

Kristen Keiller stretched and rose from her bed. Reese was snoring lightly on his stomach, his hands clutching the pillow. Whatever people might say about the two of them, it couldn’t be denied that with the exception of Patti’s strange parents, they were the only people in the house who knew how to keep a marriage together. He didn’t look much older to her than he had when they’d first met. Kristen wondered if she did. She wondered for what seemed a long time before her bladder reminded her of why she was up, and she pulled on the light nightgown and left her bed to go down the hall to the bathroom. As she was entering, she heard noise from across the hall.
There was a fierce growling and then she heard a stifled voice crying, “Oh, God, Finn, you feel so damned good inside of me. Oh, Finn! Oh, Finn!”
And now Kristin could heard the bed springs creaking.
“Daddy!” Meg sighed. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”
“Good God,” Kristin muttered, closing the bathroom door and preparing to relieve herself.

In the darkness of the living room, Thom lay on his back on the couch, gripping the blankets around his neck and looking at the ceiling while he heard the thumping and the bed springs creaking frantically. He was sure it was Finn. But what if it was Kristin and Reese. They had to... sometimes. The toilet flushed. He wondered if Patti and her Chuck ever did it. Was it like that? He pushed Liz out of his mind and jumped to himself and Patti. Once upon a time... There had been passion. Half laughing, half oversexed by the sounds above him, Thom threw together the most ridiculous pictures of people fucking. He realized, suddenly, his hands were in his jogging pants, and a little afraid, he pulled his hand out.
He did it just in time.
“Thom?” he heard the whisper and thought he was imagining. Then he heard it again.
“Hello?” Thom whispered into the air.
“It’s your mother,” said the British accent.
Thom sat up. His mother was standing over the other end of the couch.
“Scoot your feet back,” she said, the accent fading into something more Appalachian, and he did, and his mother sat down.
“Oh, Tommy, we never talk. Don’t scowl like that. You’re so handsome until you scowl.”
The ceiling stopped thumping.
“Thank you,” Kathleen Lewis said to the quiet ceiling.
“A mother can only do her best. She wants her children to come out... Happy, wise.” Thom saw his mother shrug in the dark. “In the end I could only do my best.”
“Your best was more than good enough,” Thom told her.
“When you were a little boy, I had your father—who was just another little boy himself—to take care of, and Kristin—who was spoiled and mean and embarrassed of everything. And I would feed you. You were the sweetest baby. It was easy to forget you had needs. Until I’d smell you.”
Thom looked at his mother, waiting for a point.
“You would crap in your diapers and never say a word. You’d just sit there and not make a complaint. For the longest time I thought something might be wrong with you. But you were just... not able to express yourself, afraid to or something. All through your growing up you never ever said what you needed to. You were always such a closed book. And then we came up here to live with your uncle. And although you never said anything, I knew how you felt. I knew it because you are the only little boy I’ve ever known of who could lose a Southern accent.”
“Mom—”
“Just listen to me, Thomas. When you found Patti I was so happy. I fell in love with her. She excited you. She had this hold over you no one else ever did. But I worried because she was an open book. She was full of passions and I wondered if one day she wouldn’t exasperate you... or you exasperate her. And Thomas, I’m going to stop talking after this, but I have to say, you have an amazing capacity for being in pain and smiling through it, of not being able to let people love you, and if you still love Patricia, you need to tell her that before it’s too late.”
Kathleen patted her son’s cheek, kissed him and said, “Goodnight, Baby Boy,” and then got up and went back upstairs, leaving Thom to sit in the dark and wonder.

Patti was up only a little before the sun. The kitchen was filled with a weak grey light. No Felice and Jackie this morning. Well, there would be a Jackie later. In her hands she carried the old silver coffeemaker Mom had brought from Chicago. There was a tradition. The first large pot of coffee was communal. After that the regular coffee pot was put out in the living room for the men, and the women set to the serious work of preparing the dinner.
Russell, Kristin, Reese, John, the three boys, Jackie—which meant Chip, Finn and the stray woman of the week, Mom and Dad, Kathy, and Denise, who was frequently so bitter that she passed out of memory and Thom—who needed to pass out of memory, or maybe just pass out. Not that many really. And that much food was not really needed and really not that much help to prepare it. Seven women in the kitchen at once when it was said that more than one cook spoiled the soup, and Patti realized that most of them didn’t really do anything. It was a time to talk, to be. It was good to be with the girls, to feel like a woman among women every once in a while. Good and discomfiting at the same time because there was really no telling what one of them would ask.
As she scooped the coffee into the basket and turned on the water faucet, listening to the shoot of cold water hit the tin sink, Patti realized that she was even happy about Kristin and Meg. Somehow they all mattered. Somehow all the women being here mattered. She wondered if the men felt this sitting around watching the football game. She wondered what Russell felt. Part of her wondered if he shouldn’t have stayed at Chayne’s house for Thanksgiving.
The kitchen door swung open and it was Thom, hair rumpled, in rumpled tee shirt and boxers, face rumpled as well, bottom lip jutting out.
“Good morning, Thom.”
She didn’t feel the way around her soon to be ex-husband she expected to. She felt uncomfortable, awkward.
His “Good morning!” was marred by a yawn. She couldn’t really tell how he felt as he shuffled to the sink, took out a glass and filled it with water before she could fill the coffee maker.
“My God, Thomas, you look horrible!”
Patti never thought she’d be grateful to see her older sister-in-law. Kristin’s hair was in a white snood, she was certainly wearing make up, and Patti thought to herself that Kristin Keillor must never look bad.
“Reese kept croaking about how he needs a glass of water,” Kristin excused her presence, waiting for Patti to fill up the coffeemaker before filling the second glass. “All men are such babies.”
“Give Reese a break,” Thom told her, finishing off his glass and going to the little side bathroom from the kitchen. “You act like he’s so incompetent,” Thom shouted back and the two women could hear him pissing. Kristin refrained from drinking her water at this sound, and the coffeemaker began to percolate.
“It’s not Reese. It’s all men.” she said. “Men are incompetent. My husband’s a man. Therefore my husband is incompetent. I believe it’s an Aristotelian syllogism,” Kristin shrugged and went up the back stair.
“I believe it’s an Aristotelian syllogism,” Patti heard Thom mimic and almost laughed. The toilet flushed. No one could piss as long as Thom.
“Bitch,” she heard Thom murmur, making sure to look around for his older sister before pronouncing the judgment.
“Patti, wake me up when the coffee’s finished.”
“Wake up your own damned self,” she muttered, reaching into her housecoat for her Bensen and Hedges.
“PMS must be in the water,” Thom muttered to himself going back through the dining room as the swinging door closed on him.
Patti was going to ignore this, but suddenly she was seized by a fit of rage, and she reached into the drawer beside the sink, pulled out the metal soup ladle, and charged to the living room, bashing Thom square in the back of the head before he could get back on the sofa.
“What the fuck!” he groaned clutching his head.
“That,” Patti said, “is for thinking you know something about PMS.”
And then she turned around and charged back into the kitchen, the door swinging behind her.

MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

You were right about things getting more tense! So much going on but I am enjoying it! Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Since this is one of my favorite stories, and this is the first time you meet Russell's family, I have to ask who your favorite character is.

 

[CharmedFan28]

My favourite character in Russell's family apart from Russell is probably Thom but there are a lot of likeable ones.

 

[ChrisGibson]

I think that is so interesting! I have a sympathy for Tom, but it's Patti and possibly Jackie who are my favorites.

 

[ChrisGibson]

PART THREE

By nine o’clock they could get down to business. The men were gone from the kitchen. Jackie had finally come, Patti was through half a pack of cigarettes. They were finishing touches needed for the cakes, Black Forest and simple yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Kristin had insisted on making another cake herself.
“It’s to compensate for her lack of homemaking ability when she’s actually at home,” Jackie explained cracking open a beer.
“At least I have a home to make—” Kristin began.
“Girls,” Kathleen chided. “Girls. And Jackie, it’s nine o’clock in the morning.”
“Mom, it’s five o’clock somewhere.”
“Did Chip teach that to you?” Kristin asked, her eyes staring grimly at the bowl she worked the mixer in. “Or can he tell time? Speaking of time, What time did he finally get back to you? Or did he get back to you?”
“Kristin,” Kathleen chided in a drawl. Patti said nothing. She was going over her to-do list. The sweet potato pudding had been put together last night. It needed to be baked a little before dinner, along with the macaroni, two kinds—Grandma Mc.Llarchlahn’s recipe, and Kathleen’s. That meant they’d have to start baking almost immediately and use the microwave frequently and all the heating trays in the house.
“Oh, Mom, I’m not worried about Kristin,” Jackie confided. “If I hadn’t had sex since the last ice age—”
“Oh, I’m sure Chip grabs you by the hair and throws you on your stomach!” Kristin was beating the cake batter all the more mercilessly.
“He doesn’t, but I’m sure it’s exactly what you need.”
“Oh, how would you know what I need?” Kristin demanded, scooping the batter into the first cake pan. “And who are you to inquire into the life of my bedroom?”
“There’s more life in a morgue than in your bedroom,” Jackie said.
Kristin clamped her mouth shut and continued to pour the batter into the cake pans.
“And it just proves...” Kristin thumped more batter into the last pan, “that you don’t know anything—about what makes a relationship—which is why, I suppose, you’ve never had a real one.”
“If the choice is between me being single, and me living up in the North Pole with a man who’s so whipped all he can say is yes dear, no dear, harder? Faster? I think I’ll take what I have now,” Jackie said.
Kristin prepared to say something, but just then, for the first time, Patti heard her own sister speak.
“Are you always this much of a bitch?” Denise asked, grating carrots.
Kristin blinked at her.
“I’ll never understand,” Denis went on. “I gave my husband everything. He took it and left. You give yours grief. He stays. I guess life is random.”
Kristin continued staring at her sister-in-law’s sister. They were the same age. Denise stopped grating the carrots and finally said, “By the way, you forgot to grease those pans. If you don’t take all the batter out you’re gonna make a really shitty cake.”
“Denise!” Sara reprimanded her daughter as she entered the kitchen.
“Excuse me,” she cleared her throat and kept slicing. “A really fucked up cake.”

“I had thought we could all go down to the fishing hole,” Frank said, readjusting his glasses.
“Granddad, there isn’t a fishing hole around here,” Russell said, taking a sip from his coffee mug.
“Russell, there’s Lake Chicktaw,” Thom reminded him.
“Then I definitely don’t want to go there. It’s not really the best male bonding place. If you know what I mean.”
Thom did, so he didn’t pursue it as the UnderDog balloon came sailing past Macy’s department store.
“Is there even such a thing as male bonding?” Russell wondered.
“I think that we’re having male bonding right now,” his Grandfather said, preparing to wax profound. “Wherever men come together to share minds, there is bonding, a great fusion of souls in one common unity....”
Russell tuned his grandfather out, and Finn came down the stairs, just pulling a tee shirt over his hair chest.
“Good morning, peoples!” he murmured.
“Young man, you’re getting up awfully late,” said Frank.
“I didn’t go to sleep till awfully late,” Finn said. “I had business to attend to.”
Russell watched his uncle thrust his groin in and out and wink at them all before putting back on his shades and sticking an unlit cigarette into the corner of his mouth.
John shook his head and told Ross, “Why don’t you and the boys run into the kitchen. Are we all going to Mass this morning?”
“I think so,” said Thom. “We usually do.”
“I’ll ask Patti,” John said.
“Russell, I didn’t know you drank coffee,” Thom said.
“I didn’t,” Russell said, a little surprised at his cup himself. “Everyone else was doing it, so...” he shrugged. “And I didn’t know your were smoking again.”
“Everyone else was so,” Thom copied his son. “But don’t you start. It’ll stunt your growth.”
“Was Mom hitting you in the back of the head with a ladle what stunted yours?”
Thom’s eyes flew wide open.
“It’s all over the house. You told John. He told me. Aunt Kristin says you probably had it coming,” Russell said, getting up and going into the kitchen.
He and John were both there when Meg came down the back stairs, still in a nightie that ended right below her hips, cold cream plastering her face.
“Good morning!” she cried.
United in disgust, Jackie and Kristin both turned a look on Meg.
“I’m ready to help now. What should I do?” she demanded.
“Uh...” Patti drew a blank.
“You could put some damn clothes on for one,” Denise said.
Patti said, “You can restir the macaroni before I put it in the oven.”
Sara looked at her daughter.
“She has to do something,” Patti muttered.
“Dad wants to know if we’re going to church or not?” said Russell before John could speak.
“Of course we’re going to church,” Sara said sharply. “It’s Thanksgiving. We have to thank God. That’s what it’s for.”
“Sometimes,” Patti confided in Jackie, “I think Thanksgiving exists just to make you thankful for the other three hundred-sixty four days of the year you don’t have to go through all this.”
“Three-hundred sixty-three,” Kathleen said. “Don’t forget Christmas.”
“But there’re presents to make it better,” Jackie said.
“You’d better call the church—or call Chayne,” said Patti, “to find out what time everything is.”
“Three hundred-sixty two if you’re Scottish,” Kathleen went on. “I remember when I was a little girl, my grandparents celebrating New Years... Hogmanay. We were so poor, but there was more laughter and festivity than in five of our Christmases and Thanksgivings put together.”
“I have to know,” Meg said, finishing up mixing the macaroni as Sara eyed her dubiously, and the younger woman threw her elbows on the kitchen table. “What is Thom like?”
“Excuse me?” said Patti.
“I mean is he....” Meg smiled and blushed, “endowed? I wanted to know if it was genetic. A Lewis thing. Because Finn is huge!” Meg made an impossibly large gap between her hands indicating Finn’s size, and Kathleen’s eyes opened as Sara, sensing violence, reached over moved the cutlery from her fellow mother-in-law’s reach while calmly finishing off the icing for a Bundt cake.
Patti smiled and said, “I don’t know if it’s genetic. Jackie, how big is your penis?”
“Enormous,” her sister-in-law replied, and continued smoking.

“No answer,” Russell told John as he put down the phone.
“We’ll just go over and see if he’s home,” said John. “He’s probably busy planning Thanksgiving at his house.”
“That’s right. Half of Lothrop County’s supposed to be coming.”
They drove over and found half of Lothrop County double parked before Chayne’s house and the house next door. Running up the stairs and entering the front room, they found Chayne in a suit, walking to and fro his house while cousins milled about putting out China and laying out the insults.
“Of course there’s a Mass today,” Chayne looked at Russell incredulously. “In about an hour, and you’ve got a solo in it. Remember?”
Russell’s eyes widened. “Oh my...”
“There’s a Wideness in God’s Mercy,” Chayne reminded him. Beyond them they could hear Janna saying, “How do I keep getting pregnant?” and Pethane answering, “B being a ho.”
“Well, most of the time at least.:” Chayne modified.
“Twelve o’clock Mass! I forgot. Later Chayne,” Russell ran out the house. John said goodbye and followed his nephew.

Russell finished his solo that ended in a long alto note he was proud to still be able to hit. Below he could see the church filling, and Liz Ford lighting the candles on either side of the altar. Bill Nugent, the altar boy, was putting incense in the censer, and then walking the west arcade back into the vestibule under the choir loft.
“That was great,” Chayne whispered, and then went to Russell’s place after telling the choir.
Above the bells began ringing. Once, twice, three times. Twelve times. They silenced. The reverberation of their bonging settling through the bricks of Saint Adjeanet’s.
“That’s our cue,” Chayne said and went to the west stair, the one that led, not into the church, but the vestibule. He made sure the choir in its gold and green robes was in proper formation, Russell at the fore, the tenors in single file beside the altos, the basses alongside the sopranos and then sent them downstairs. Jeff Ford was waiting for them between Bill Nugent and Tina Yoast, their censors swinging, heavy with gold and sweet smoke. Betty Long held the lectionary in her tired hands. Chayne in his suit tiptoed downstairs, saw them all lined up. ran back up and told Hannah, “Start now.”
The first thunderous notes of “We Gather Together,” blasted from the pipes and touch of Hannah’s small fingers and tiny feet, and Chayne watched the choir glide into the church, singing to the little thunder of the congregation rising to its feet.

We gather together to ask the Lord’s blessing;
he chastens and hastens his will to make known;
the wicked oppressing now cease from
distressing
sing praises to his name--he forgets not his own!

Thom Lewis was surprised that he was still at the head of the table. Patti was at the other end. Sara had suggested that she sit next to Thom, but her daughter had thrown her such a look that Sara only smiled and said, “Nevermind.”
Thom cleared his throat, folded his hands and said, “I think we should all say something we’re grateful for. You know, go around the table and each say a blessing.”
“Like on Oprah?” Meg said joyously.
Thom frowned at her.
“I think they were talking about that on Oprah,” Meg went on. “Or maybe it was “Little House on the Prairie. Or something like that.”
“Or something like that,” Kristin repeated.
“Well, I guess I’ll start,” Thom said, putting on a happy face. “I’m grateful to have my whole family around me on this day.”
“Are you really?” Russell whispered.
“Yes, I am,” Thom said to his son with a little irritation. “And now why don’t you tell us what you’re grateful for?”
“I can’t,” said Russell, who was in the middle of the table. “It would mess up the rotation.”
“Well, then I guess it’s my turn,” said Kathleen. She said more or less the same thing as Thom. Among the most memorable Thanksgivings were Meg’s:
“I’m thankful for such a big strong man with such a big strong—ouch, who did that?”
Jackie’s: “I’m grateful that I’m not a bitter, controlling pre-menopausal bitch who has her husband tied to a string.”
And Denise’s: “As soon as God gives me something to be thankful for. I’ll thank him.”
After which Thom could only raise eyebrows, smile, blow out his cheeks and say, delightedly, “Amen,” then cross himself.
Watching his father, Russell had a sort of admiration for the man who tried so hard, clinging to—despite all contrary evidence—the belief that a smile which ignored all indiscretion could save the day.
“Oh, Reese, you don’t need that,” Kristen told her husband as he reached for the mashed potatoes. “Have the broccoli instead. Less starches for you.”
“Jackie, you know you don’t need that broccoli,” Chip told her as she reached for it. She gave him a sharp look, and Chip confided in Finn. “It makes her gassy.”
Jackie turned immediately red and exchanged a glance with John as Finn nodded and said, “Yeah, I remember when we were kids, and you’d get a little bit of roughage into her. You know what else makes her gassy?”
“Finn,” Kristin’s voice was sharp.
“Yeah, Sis.”
“Firstly, never call me that. Secondly, shut up and pass the turkey.”
“Next year,” Kathleen was saying,. “We will deep fry the turkey.”
Kathleen and Sara had been having a debate about baking or deep frying the turkey that had lasted a long time, Sara’s chief argument being that it sounded greasy and disgusting, until Patti had finally pointed out that they didn’t have a deep fryer or the forty gallons of vegetable oil it took to undergo such an enterprise, and finally Thom had stepped in and decided to barbecue the turkey for a bit of change.
“Reese, don’t eat so fast.” said Krisitn.
“Man,” Finn said, which actually sounded like. “Meeeeeeeeennn, why you let her boss your around like that? Don’t you know a lady needs to be kept in line?”
“Really?” Jackie set the full force of her gaze on her brother, who gulped, and then at the encouraging chuckle of his much too old girlfriend said, “Really. Man, you need to stand up,” to the small blond man with the patient face and the military haircut. “You can’t be letting her tell you everything, running your life namby pamby.”
At this Reese stood up, and for a moment Thom thought he would clock his brother, and in that moment, he wished he would. But he only folded his napkin, pushed in his chair and marched upstairs.
Kristin looked after him and then turned savagely on her younger brother.
“Fenian, I blew your nose, bathed you, wiped your ass, fed you and left home when you were four. I didn’t like you then, and I don’t like you now.”
“Ooooh, you think you’re so big!” Finn stuck his tongue otu at her. Chip let out a laugh, which made Jackie grab him by the arm and drag him into the kitchen.
“Whaddid I do?” Chip whined as Kathleen said, “Finn, that’s enough. Lay off the drugs.”
“You’re so old is what you are,” Finn went on.
“Patricia,” Denise’s voice rang out from where she sat beside her sister, though once she’d caught everyone’s attention she seemed, in fact, to be very quiet. “Could I make an observation?”
“Go right on ahead.”
“I know what I said about her,” Denise pointed to Kristin as she was turning to go upstairs after her husband, “but,” pointing to Finn and then Meg, “He’s a brain dead smoked out moron with the IQ of a cup of instant coffee, and she’s an old slut with a makeup kit I haven’t seen sense Grease.”
Denise sat back down.
“That’s all,” she said. “If I have anything else to say, I’ll let you know.”
“We’ll be waiting,” Thom said, shaking his head.

CONCLUSION TOMORROW NIGHT!

 

[CharmedFan28]

Lots going on in this excellent short story and I am enjoying it! Great writing and I look forward to the conclusion tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

THANKSGIVING

CONCLUSION


“Reese,” Kristin said. “You come back down here this instant! We are having a family affair, and you’re dawdling around instead of being social. I swear—”
Kristin shut up. Reese had been digging around in the suitcase and now he stopped and his blues eyes shot her a look she forgot they had.
“You swear what?” he said, his voice flat, one eyebrow raised.
Reese left the suitcase, closed the door firmly and shut the lock.
“We’re going to talk now,” he said. “And you’re not going to swear a thing.”



“Whaddid I do now?” Chip groaned.
“Get out.” Jackie told him in the kitchen.
“What?”
“I said get out. Chadwick, I can’t explain what you did this time, but I can tell you you’ve been doing it all the time, and now it’s time for you to go.”
“You wanna fuck that John guy, don’t you? Don’t try that stare on me again,”
“Chadwick—”
“And quit calling me that.”
“It’s your name.”
“Alright then, Jaclyn!” Somehow the name didn’t sound as bad he’d planned for it to.
“Firstly,” said Jackie. “I’m not going to do anything to anyone. Especially to you. Secondly—”
“You sound like your bitch of a sister. Firstly, secondly, thirdly—”
“Secondly, I’m not going to argue about this. I want you to leave.”
“Jackie.”
“Now.”
“Jack—”
“Now,” she said, this time a little more gently. Which made Chip know she was serious, because Jackie was always loud and bombastic. That hardly meant anything.
He left, Jackie sighed, feeling a loss and not exactly sure of what she was losing.
“Goodbye, Chadwick.”
As Jackie pushed open the kitchen door it hit something and she heard a shot and stared at John, rubbing the side of his head.
“Sorry, Jackie,” John said, and smiled at her.

“Oh, my God,” said Kristin, sitting up in bed an hour later. She reached for her cigarettes, but Reese took the pack first as he sat up beside her, pulling up the covers around his waist.
“I haven’t seen you like that in... years.”
Reese lit the cigarette, inhaled, exhaled, gradually.
“Do it again,” Kristin urged.
“What?”
“Take a drag. I forgot you did it so well, you should never have quit smoking.”
Reese obeyed her.
“Are you turned on by me, now?” he asked her.
“I think,” Kristin said, “I was turned on the moment you closed the door and got that look in your eye. I forgot what that used to do to me.”
“Does that mean you want me to be aggressive more often?”
“One step at a time,” Kristin said. “Am I really that much of a bitch?”
“Kristin,” Reese began in a soothing tone, crushing out the cigarette. He was looking for a good way to say it. Finally he said, “Yes.”
Kristin sighed. “I don’t remember it always being this way.”
“It wasn’t,” Reese lay down in the bed again. He lay on his side and began to stroke Kristin’s arm, catch a tendril of her honey-brown hair.
“I think it’s my fault, largely,” he said reflexively. “Kristin, you’ve always been... take charge. That’s what I loved about you. We used to have... Christ, we used to have the biggest grudge matches, but I got tired of fighting you. I got tired of trying to match you so...”
“You let me be a bitch.”
He reached up and touched her chin, tilting his face toward her. “I let myself be a coward.”
They were silent a while, and then Kristin spoke.
“Do you remember,” Kristin said laughing a little. “when we were younger, and you would come into the bedroom in your Marine uniform and—”
“It would make you red!”
“It did,” she laughed. “And I would undress you one article at a time. Until all you had on was the hat.”
“And we would see how long the hat could stay on...” A lurid smile ran across Resse’s face.
“Not very long as I remember,” Kristin whispered, the same smile crossing her face as well.

Kristin came downstairs as the family slept in front of the roaring television, pretending to watch the game and Patti was loading the dishwasher. Sara and Kathleen had come into help, but Patti had thrown them out wanting this little bit of time to herself.
“I’ve been...” Kristin said, “detained.”
“I know exactly what you’ve been,” Patti smiled into the dishwasher she kept loading. “Your spare room’s right above the kitchen.”
Kristin blushed.
“Look at you,” Patti said, surprised. “You look. My God you look more than a decade younger. Reese must be amazing.”
Kristin said nothing, but sauntered over to the kitchen door. She pushed it open and looked out across the dining room to the living room where Reese was sitting.
“There’s just something about a short man....”
Patti put the dish towel over her shoulder, turned on the washer and joined Kristin in her reverie. Thom was smoking again, and Patti didn’t give a damn what the Surgeon General said, it was downright sexy.
“It’s like...” Kristin tried to describe it, “all that manhood harnessed into this one compact thing. And he looks like he’s half your height but he can pick you up, and at the same time so cute and so... ohhh...”
Patti was watching Thom inhale, his thumb and index finger holding the cigarette, its tip turning red and orange, then dull grey. His mouth opened to exhale the smoke going around his brown eyes, his brows, his thick hair. He looked a little tired. With an invisible finger she traced the lines of his face.
“Oh my God!’ Krisitn interrupted Patti’s tracing.
“What?” Patti came back to reality.
“You’;re checking my brother out.” she hissed as the kitchen door swung shut.
“I am not,” Patti tried to laugh and felt herself turning red.
“Liar!”
“I was just,” she said to Kristin’s laughter. “I was just going down Memory Lane. You were talking about short little passionate men and the only man I’ve ever had is short and little so it follows... I was just thinking about years ago when Thom was working at Denny’s and he got off late and I had to come pick him up. He was closing. No one was there and he was all in white, white pants, white apron, white cap. He closed the blinds and threw me on the table and oh, my God! It used to be like that all the time.”
“Maybe there’s still a chance,” said Kristin.
“No, Thom’s thirty-eight years old. His table throwing days are over.—”
“No, Patricia—” Kristin said, her eyebrows lowering.
“I mean a chance for your marriage. The problem with you all—”
“Yes,” Patti said warily.
“Is probably that you never hit him in the back of the head with a ladle until today. I think the two of you give up too easily.”
“I think….” Patti began, covering up her smile.
“That I’m always right?” Kristin smiled.
“God, no. But you’re right this time. Actually, you’re right a lot of the time.”
Kristin kissed her sister-in-law on the cheek.
“Patricia, that’s all anyone can hope for.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was an excellent ending to this great short story! I know what happens to Russell in the future but I do wonder about the rest of his family. Are there anymore Geshichte Falls stories coming up?

 

[ChrisGibson]

There will be more. Because this is my favorite I jumped the gun and there is one before this about Patti and Jackie, but there are more stories after this about John and Jackie and Kristin and Reese and even crazy Denise and Russell's grandparents. There are even some folks that are not in this story that come along later. Who are you curious about seeing again?

 

[CharmedFan28]

Excellent! Probably Jackie, Kristin and Reese. Also more about Thom would be interesting if there is anymore to tell about him.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Well, it's not secret that Thom and Patti do get back together, and Russell's still a teenager so they're all living in the same house and there is actually ALOT more of Thom. Really a lot more of everyone you just brought up. NEWS FLASH: since a lot is changing, there will be a change in the way I post. After tomorrow I will post every two days and I'm going to start doing it at a different time. I had reasons for the old way, but all of those reasons are gone and this new strategy will be better I think.

 

[CharmedFan28]

That's cool. I don't mind when or how often you post, I just appreciate that you post so many great stories at all.

 

[LoveMyPeppermill]

When, in Nights in White Satin, I read Russell observing to himself that his family could always be counted on to bring the drama, I wasn't at all sure what he meant. Now I know.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Haha! This is the impetus of all the drama. Thank you for reading and thanks for commenting.