Wrapping Up (Mitchell Family #4.5)(13)
Author: Jennifer Foor

Ty started laughing. “This little guy is shy. I don’t know where he gets that from”

“Yeah, me either.”

I handed Ty a couple of pot holders and we started carrying in the dishes. When we got back to the kitchen, everyone was lending a hand to get it all out on the table. With a little help from my strong husband, the other turkey was removed from the oven and the bag was being pulled off of it. It smelled delicious and was the perfect color too. I turned to see my family looking like cartoon characters with drool running down their animated bodies.

Colt took over once he saw the delicious turkey and insisted on carrying it to the dining room. I had to physically go into the living room and turn off the television to get the other guys to pay us any mind and come to eat. I knew they could smell it. The whole house smelled of turkey, candied yams, mashed potatoes, stuffing and everything else that gave that authentic Thanksgiving smell.

When the table was full of wonderful looking food, I went to call on the kids to come down. In the corner of the dining room we had set up a table just for them. On the other side of the room was the playpen area for the babies, but with the exception of Jax, they were still sleeping. Miranda held Jax on her lap and he was banging a spoon on the table and laughing and blinking every time it made a loud sound. His father kept making silly faces when he did, making Jax want to keep doing it.

I walked up the stairs, knowing that I couldn’t be loud on account of being able to eat my meal while it was still hot, if I made the mistake of waking up my sleeping daughter. As I got to the end of the hallway and opened the playroom door, Sam, our lab, went running by me. Feathers were wrapped around her entire neck with some type of tape. I should have known if she looked like that to expect the worse, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I looked into that room.

Two children, that were only recognizable from their hair, were standing at the far side of the playroom. Paints and craft items were scattered all over the place. They hadn’t used them like I had told them to. Instead of using the construction paper, they had painted their faces and arms brown with face paint then made Indian headbands out of the feathers.

I put my hand over my mouth, both shocked and impressed. It was very creative, although at the same time, a catastrophe.

“Mom, look, me and Bella decided to be real Indians for Thanksgiving. Ain’t it cool?”

Of course they were excited about it. How do you punish a child for wanting to explore the Indian culture on Thanksgiving?

I put my hands on my hips and walked toward them. “You two should have asked if you could paint your bodies. What would have happened if you got it in your eyes?”

They put their heads down and I got an even better look at how hard they had worked to get the feathers on their head. Colt’s voice made us all jump. “Can one of you please explain why Sam is wearing feat……..oh Jesus Mary and Joseph, what have you two done now?”

I covered my mouth, but the giggles escaped anyway. He turned to me but pointed to them. “Tell me that you didn’t know about this?”

I held my hand up like I was swearing on a bible at court. “I swear, Babe. I had nothing to do with this, but before you get all mad, I think we should consider letting them be Indians for dinner. Aside from it being educational, they aren’t hurting anyone.”

The two kids stood there waiting for mean old Colt to yell at them, but my husband scrunched up his face and ran his hands through his thick dark hair. “I suppose that they can stay Indians for dinner, but just so you both know, this is not okay and you are responsible for cleaning up this whole mess yourselves.”

They started following us down the stairs and talking in a low manner where we couldn’t exactly hear them. Giggles followed and I knew they had planned this all along.

Colt took my hand and led me off the last step. “This is going to be interestin’.”

Colt and I moved out of the way to show off the two little Indians that were joining us for dinner. “We went looking for children, but found two Indians instead. I told them they could eat with us tonight.”

The room got so quiet you could have heard a mouse run by. Every person at the table just stared at Noah and Bella. Conner stood up and held his hands out for the two kids to slap him five. “Kickass you two!”

“Conner!” His mother was not too happy with him saying ass at the fancy dinner table, but we all knew it was only a matter of time before much worse would come out of someone’s mouth. I think every single holiday dinner consisted of someone talking about sex or pooping.

We got them all situated and gathered hands to say grace. Noah and Bella walked over to Colt and asked him something in his ear. He smiled and nodded his head. “Noah and Bella want to say grace this year.”

They walked over to where everyone could see and hear them and counted to three.

“Thank you God for all that grows,

Thank you for the sky’s rainbows,

Thank you for the stars that shine,

Thank you for this family of mine,

Thank you for the moon and sun,

Thank you God for all you’ve done.

Amen.”

Aside from a few little chuckles because the kids were painted brown with feathers dangling from their bodies, everyone began to clap and start passing around the food. Miranda and I got up at the same time and started making the kids their plates.

Just as we got them situated, I noticed Ty trying to pry a turkey leg from the turkey. Now, the turkey was done, but for some reason he couldn’t get it to separate. The more he pulled, the more the plate was moving with it. My dad reached over and grabbed the turkey platter, laughing the whole time and calling Ty a weakling.

As he gave one final tug, the turkey leg came loose and flung back with force, hitting Miranda directly in the eye, making a loud smack sound. Ty dropped the turkey leg on his plate and got his wife to a sitting position while she held her hand over her eye where the leg had hit her. As he pried away her hand, a greasy wet spot covered all around her eye. It was already starting to get red. She couldn’t open her eyes on account of a combination of the pain and the grease.

I ran over and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into the kitchen. “Oh my God! Come with me. We need to get your eye cleaned out.”

I could hear the commotion as Ty and I walked an injured Miranda to the kitchen. “Baby, oh my God, I am so sorry.”

I leaned her head under the sink and let the water run over her eye. “Just try to get the grease out.”

“It burns like a bitch.” Poor Miranda tried to not cry as she was under that spicket. Ty never let go of her and I knew he felt horrible. He kept rubbing her back, while looking like he wanted to inflict pain on himself for hurting his woman. When she finally pulled away from the water and dried her face off, all I could see was the red welt forming around her eye. “How bad is it?”