Deidre,naturally.

* as submitted to W1K for “SURVIVNG FAMILY“

“She’ll be a Football Widow before they’re even married!” I heard Edna tsking to no one in particular. As I brought the plate of casserole samplings to Christopher’s yet hovering body, I realized too late that I had forgotten to check the TV. screen before approaching his personal space. Grayish globs of green bean casserole splattered the curtains and carpet; specks of gelatinous cranberry sauce clung to different parts of the recliner. It was like a shower of confetti to celebrate of the Dolphins touchdown, only not as easily vacuumed up. I pulled a soggy french onion from my hair and wondered what would be next. My answer came instantly, my thoughts interrupted by a commotion on the screened in porch where the desserts are usually set up. “Please don’t be vermin!” I whispered a prayer to the god of family gatherings as I rounded the corner to see chunks of cake flying into the living room. Reaching the porch, I saw Aunt Deidra leading a cake toss amongst the three youngest nephews. She was shouting “Celebrate America’s birthday, children!” fervently tossing cake above her head. She seemed oblivious that it was Thanksgiving, and she was obviously off her meds, again. “Thanks, I think” again, to the unnamed god. There was nothing to do but wait for them to run out of cake. And pray they didn’t resort to cobbler once they had. I took a seat next to Christopher, who by now had become engaged in a heated debate with Aunt Edna. Falcons vs. Dolphins. Aunt Edna has a reputation, and until now I hadn’t thought to warn Christopher.Over the years, she had claimed the title to many a last remaining pumpkin pie slice with her well placed wagers. She liked to call herself “The Bookie” No way was I getting involved. Ah well, he would learn. In the mean time, I needed a distraction. Dessert was out of the question, at least for the next few minutes, so I headed into the “formal room” where everything was covered in plastic, and even the way you breathed in there was subject to scrutiny. I took a seat on the stiff blue sofa, the kind with fragile looking claw feet, and instinctively cringed, half expecting some crazed aunt to chase me off with a wooden spoon (spatulas work nicely too) . I have only been ‘legal age’ to sit on the formal furniture a scant few years now and it still took a bit to get comfortable taking such “grown up” liberties. I must have fallen asleep, for I startled awake to an exchange in the adjoining dining room. It was Aunt Deidra’s voice (good! the cake shower had ended): “Polly, do you wear those new thong underpants that are so popular now?” “MOTHER!” this was the outraged voice of Becky, Aunt Deidra’s youngest daughter“That is totally inappropriate to ask a twelve year old girl! Polly, I don’t want you to listen to another word she says. Go help clean up the porch while I have a talk with your grandma!” “Don’t go before you take a peek at your granny’s fanny, Polly Wolly!” Deidra, naturally “I wear them, see?!”I couldn’t resist, I craned my neck to see what may accompany this invitation, but I was too late. All I caught was “Put your skirt down NOW, Momma! Polly, I mean it, GO!”The next hour involved a long conversation about “taking the medications prescribed to us”, with Becky doing most of the talking. She probably knew as well as I did what an exercise in futility this was, but probably felt it was better than turning her mother loose to inquire further about Polly’s preferences in undergarments. “Thanks for abandoning me with your family, darling” I heard him before I saw him. Christopher was coming through the front door and he sounded upset, but I could tell by that sly grin he was planning to let me off the hook. “Thought you guys could get to know each other better with a little “alone” time” I smirked, keeping the “while I slept off the turkey in complete silence” part to myself.I had walked next door to our adjoining duplex and curled up on my own, non-formal sofa shortly after Becky began to venture into old childhood hurts. Christopher filled me in on antics I had missed:“And then Becky said ‘You always liked him better than me!’ and your Aunt Deidra said ‘you betcha, toots!’ Christopher continued “so Becky pulled Polly out and they left right away for Ohio tonight, instead of Sunday”I yawned, curling into Christopher’s side. “That’s too bad, they usually make it until at least Friday night . . . “