Chapter 3
The flight was long an uneventful. I thought about Natalie the entire way. By the time the plane touched down in Atlanta I had memorized everything about her and decided that I rather liked the way the corner of her eyes crinkled slightly when she smiled, showing lines that would deepen as she laughed her way into old age.
I was running through our brief time together for the umpteenth time when I heard, rather than saw, my mom. "Adrianne! Adi, over here Adi!"
Mom and dad were standing by the luggage carrousel with my bags. She was waving at me, the tinsel decorations of her Christmas earrings dancing in the light. I smiled at her and waved. She poked dad in the side and he walked to meet me.
"Lookin' good, pumpkin," he wrapped me in a big hug. Dad was tall and lanky. He had to stoop down to hug me and his arms wrapped around both me and my back pack.
"You look good too dad. I've missed you."
"I've missed you more."
Mom was still by my luggage looking as antsy as a kid waiting for Santa. She was bouncing on her heels and smiling hugely. She waved me forward with impatience. "I guess you better go hug your mother. She's going to have a fit if you don't."
Dad took my bag and I went to mom. She squeezed me and I could smell the salon-fresh scent of her hair. I stood back and smiled at her. "Did you get your hair done just to come pick me up?"
"Yes, I had it done this morning. I wanted them to cut it, but not a whole lot, and to add color. You see here," she pointed to the top of her head, "I had them put a deep red here so it would cover any grays and then I thought, 'what the heck' and had them do a whole range of colors to blend. It couldn't decide what to do with it. Can you see what they did there?" She turned around and pointed to the back of her neck.
"It looks really good."
"Different, huh?"
"Yeah," I looked at dad. He shrugged slightly so mom wouldn't notice. Her hair looked the same as it did the last time we were standing in the Atlanta airport.
"It always looks nice," Dad said. He grabbed my other bag and began to move towards the exit. "We should get moving. When we get to the car I want to hear all about England."
"Oh yes. You have to tell us all about it. What it's like, the people, the food? I really want to hear about all your posh friends."
Mom kept talking until we reached the car. I never got a chance to get a word in to answer her. I don't think she really wanted an answer, anyway. We had pulled out of the parking lot and were well on the way home before she asked me the question I had been dreading.
"So, are you dating anyone?"
I sighed, "No."
"Well you have to try, you know. You're pretty, but you can't just sit around and read your books all day. You have to make and effort and meet people."
"I know, mom," I tried to placate her.
"How else are you going to get married?"
"Life's not all about getting married." I did not want to get into this before we even got home. It was bad enough that I was going to school to study something masculine like Literary Theory, but not to have married first; that was one of the 'cardinal sins according to mom'.
"Yes, but if you don't get married, you're going to be alone. You don't want to be alone. Do you?"
"Sometimes. Depends on the mood I'm in."
She didn't appreciate my joke. "I hope you're in the right mood while you're home; that's all I have to say."
"Why?" I asked. Mom sounded hopeful. Too hopeful.
"No reason."
"Dad, what's mom talking about?"
"Hmmm?" He acted like he wasn't following the conversation. Maybe he really was concentrating on the road, but I doubted it. Dad was more laid back than mom, but he still was very traditional and even though he has never said anything, I know he was disappointed when I decided not to stay home and run the shop and settle down, have a few kids.
"I asked what mom has up her sleeve."
Dad looked at me in the rearview mirror and smiled, "There's no telling what she has up those sleeves. Look at them. Do you really want to know?"
Mom playfully smacked dad in the arm and they both laughed. I was a bit worried, but ignored it as we pulled off onto our exit.
Coming home is an event. It always is, and there will always be some part of my extended family to take up my time. I was hardly in the door before the phone was ringing with various grandparents and cousins wanting to know when I was free.
I wasn't sure I wanted to be free.
Mom was chatting to grandmother Strum as I made faces indicating that I didn't want to talk and escaped to my room. I closed the door behind me and fell onto my bed. My room hadn't changed a since I'd left. This was going to be a long vacation.
I was falling asleep, thinking about Natalie, when mom burst through the door announcing that we would all be having dinner at 7:30 p.m.
"By all, who do you mean?" I asked, not bothering to sit up.
"You know; the family."
"So you, me, dad?"
"And Grandmother Strum, Grandmother and Grandfather Benson, your cousins Colton, Jane, Annie, Holly, Emma, Bonnie, Amanda, John and Clay. And, a few of their kids."
"You're kidding right?" I hoped to God she was kidding. She was looking in the mirror and ignoring the look of horror on my face.
"What? We always have a family get together." She was acting innocent, which made it worse.
"It's just that I feel like chilling out and not doing anything tonight. I had a long flight; I'm gross; I need a shower and I want to go to bed."
"You have a few hours, plenty of time to shower and have a quick nap."
"Where're we going?"
"We're having a little back-yard barbecue." I groaned; mom ignored me and continued to fluff her hair in the mirror. "You think this hair is alright? I'd hate to give your Grandma Strum a heat attack."
"If something as small as changing your hair gives her a heart attack, then God help her. It looks fine."
After mom left, I rolled off my bed and dug my cell phone out of my bag. I plugged it into the charger and called Kim, my best friend. I knew that after a family get together like mom had planned that I was going to need to go have more than a few drinks to relax and undo the trauma that repeating myself fourteen times would cause. In fact, I invited Kim to dinner.
It was nearing 7:30 p.m. and I couldn't hide in my room any longer. There was a soft knock on my door. "Come in."
Dad stuck his head in. He was wearing a goofy chef's hat and an apron from his butcher shop, stained pink from years of bloody chopping. "Hey," he wiggled some tongs at me, "Just letting you know that everyone's arriving and I'm about to start up the grill. You should probably think about coming down."
I smiled at him, "Okay dad, I'll be there in a minute."
I took the next five minutes to pack on extra concealer to cover the dark circles that were well formed under my eyes and added a bit of perfume to my neck.
Shit
. Grandmother Benson's allergic to practically everything.
I opened the door to my room and yelled down the hall, "Is grandma Benson coming?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Grandma Benson called back to me.
Shit
. I went to the bathroom and began to scrub at my neck, trying to get all the perfume off that I could. I tossed some baby powder on my neck for good measure and hoped to God that she wasn't allergic to that too. Then I went down to face the crowd, red neck and all.
Grandma Benson met me at the bottom of the stairs with arms wide open. "Grandma!" I went into her arms.
"I was wondering when you would grace us with your presence," Grandma said.
"Yeah shorty, she was about to brave the stairs with her knees and come get you," Grandpa Benson laughed. He still looked the same. A few more gray hairs, but his belly, button up shirt and unlit cigar dangling from his mouth showed he was still the grandpa I knew and loved.
Grandma Benson released me and said, "You smell wonderful, Adi. What is that? Baby Powder?"
"Matter of fact, it is."
Grandpa held open his arms. I went into his massive hug and stayed there for as long as I could. He smelled of unlit tobacco and mint from the tin of Altos he kept in his pocket. Grandpa Benson was my favorite relative. He was much more relaxed and liberal than the rest of the family who generally ascribed to a Hell fire and damnation view of the world. I think family money gave him that luxury.
I missed getting to sit down and talk to Grandpa Benson. He used to take me fishing and tell me about the world. He was the one who inspired me to go abroad for my degree. Hell, he told me to get my degree anyway, when everyone else in the family expected me to just take over at the shop and move from weekend counter girl to full-time, small town butcher.
As I broke away from Grandpa Benson he winked at me. I winked back and turned around, quickly finding myself in another relative's embrace.
Around 8 p.m. dad was serving up the burgers and steaks from the grill. He grilled chicken just for me. I thanked him as I moved down the line and added salad, grilled vegetables and a roll to my plate.
