Happy Thanksgiving Expectations What are you doing? Laying in the sunshine. Youre not a cat, Johnathon. Hmm.... There was a pause. The woman looked over her husband as he lay face down in front of a stretch of sunlight, drifting in from a window. Wind blew a chilled breeze outside, but within the confines of the house, the air was warm and carried the scent of turkey and other such delicacies. The clock, set into the oven and stained with the splatters from countless pots, said that it was just 11:15. Her relatives would be in at two. The woman, a pretty little thing with chestnut hair and bright, chocolaty eyes, nudged her beloved with the edge of her sneaker. Both had been preparing and stressing about this day for the better part of the week. Johnathon had been out since five this morning to get what groceries he had forgotten, and his wife had been cooking tirelessly. Now, everything had been set to simmer, and her husband had decided to lay on the floor. Excellent. Theyre going to be here in three hours. You should really clean up the house. Its an apartment, Annabel. Nobodys going to have high expectations to begin with. Oh dear Lord, Ann thought, shutting her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. John, please, get up. This is a day to be thankful, not complain about family. Johnathon made a noise akin to that of a dying whale. The woman was about to kick him, but was interrupted by the phone. She frowned, wiped her hands on her apron, and hurried to answer it. It was her sister. Johnathon remained silent as his wife spoke into the receiver. Yes...yes, I know hes...yes...Alright, well see what we can do. Whatd she want? Her boyfriends a vegan and she wants me to cook him a special plate. I heard that canned Get Over It was all natural. Johnathon! Its the truth! Im trying to make my family happy! Annabel sighed miserably, collapsing in a chair and burying her face in her hands. They both remained silent for a long moment. Annabel heard a rustle of cloth against carpet and looked up. Johnathon had wiggled a foot or so to the left. She rolled her eyes and got up, crawling over and laying down with him. He placed a hand on her back. Its our first Thanksgiving since weve been married. Everyones expecting for us to be perfect. She said, looking at him. He stared back lazily. Not sure about you, but Im doing pretty fine. Youre laying on the floor. Yeah, but the floors got sunshine and its warm. Try to relax, Ann. I just want to make them proud... She whispered, pressing her face to the crook of his neck. Johnathon held her tightly. I know you do. Dont kill yourself over it. Just lay here for ten more minutes and enjoy it, okay? She nodded. Johnathon held her close, and for just a moment, they remained still and silent. Three hours later, the relatives came, and as expected, properly judged the two into oblivion. Somehow though, as she watched Johnathon wash countless dishes, sipping from a glass of wine, it didnt seem to matter as much. Perhaps, in their own special way, they were perfect.
Posted on: Thu, 28 Nov 2013 16:32:17 +0000
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