An Unhappy Thanksgiving

“Okay, the turkeys in the oven, stuffing is on the table, gravy is in the pot . . .”
         “Mom, its just Thanksgiving dinner!” I called from the living room. Her constant muttering and pacing was starting to get on my nerves.
         “Exactly!” she exclaimed, coming to a stop in front of the door, hands on hips in a Captain America-like pose. “The one time a year we see all our relatives at once! I want to make a good impression!”
         “You don't have to make an impression, they already know us!” I argued, barely glancing up from my cell phone. I was busily texting my best friend Sarah, whose Thanksgiving dinner was basically a meeting of the Old People's club. She didn't have any cousins her age, and she had made me promise to get her through the boredom.
         “Patricia Anne Davis, if I didn't know better I'd think you didn't care!” Mom exclaimed.
         “Yeah, definitely. I'm like, so worried abut it. Really.” I said distractedly, busy typing a reply to Sarah. Mom huffed angrily and turned around to return to the kitchen, then I heard a loud crash. A moment later it was followed by a cry of pain.
         “Mom!” I yelled, throwing my phone down and rushing to help her.


         Mom had slipped on a dropped dish towel and broken her leg. It was a bad fracture, and she had to staying the hospital for a few days. After a half hour of calling upset relatives to tell them dinner was cancelled, me and my little sister Mary were sitting by Mom's hospital bed. Dad was off finding a bathroom and Mary was holding her nose.
         “It smells funny in here,” she complained, and I elbowed her gently in the stomach.
         “How you feelin', Mom?” I asked.
         “Could be better,” she said. “This isn't exactly how I wanted to spend Thanksgiving.”
         “Yeah. Sorry about that. If its any consolation, Uncle Bob said he wasn't planing on coming anyway.”
         “Thanks hone,y that makes me feel loads better,” Mom said sarcastically, leaning back on her pillows. Just then the door banged open and dad stood there, beaming proudly.
         “Hi, dad,” I said. “Have a fun trip to the bathroom?”
         “What?” he said, his smile faltering for a moment. “NO! I mean, well, oh never mind! I have a surprise for your mother!”
         I noticed he was holding something behind his back and I leaned away. “Gross, dad!”
         He rolled his eyes at me, then brought the thing out in front of him. “Turkey sandwiches!” he said happily.
         “Thanks honey,” mo said, smiling wanly. “But its just not the same.”
         “Maybe it is,” he said, stepping back from the door.
         “Granny!” Mary yelled, running forward.
         “Mom! What are you doing here?” Mom asked happily.
         “What, did you think I would let a little thing like a busted leg get in the way of our family thanksgiving?” Grandma said,hugging Mary briefly then crossing over to the bed. Another figure appeared in the doorway and I looked over.
         “Nellie!” I exclaimed, surprised to see my favorite cousin standing there.
         “Hey squirt,” she smiled, shrugging her leather jacket off on a chair. She had replaced her purple highlights with pink ones, but I barely had time to think about this, because there was yet another relative at the door.
         “Uncle Joey! Aunt Bernice!”
         Soon the trickle of relatives turned into a stream and the hospital room became packed with people that would have been at our house for dinner. Soon we were all laughing and eating the dry turkey sandwiches Dad had found in a vending machine down the hall. During a lull in the conversation I looked around  and realized something.
         “The only one missing is Uncle Bob!” I said, and everyone started laughing.