In a few minutes the wives would start yelling at the men in the same voices they used to scold the children. And the uncles would obediently disperse to help set the tables like chastised little boys, because no matter how primitive and caveman-esque the McCullough men behaved, they knew how their bread got buttered, and the McCullough women always called the shots in the end.
Gran bustled through the cellar door with wild green eyes, shoving a bushel of potatoes into Skylar’s arms. “Oh, thank Christ you’re back, love. Your mother left because we ran out of diapers and James got into the chocolates with Pop. Well, you know how he is with dairy. He’s covered in shite. I mean the stuff shot right out his arse and up his back. Your grandfather’s nowhere to be found, of course. Vinnie’s upstairs with your brother now, trying to get him in the tub, but you know how boys are—bitching and moaning about the slightest inconvenience. I mean really, how dare we ask them to pitch in with the kids? Anyway, I have to go check on them. You peel these potatoes and—whatever you do—don’t let any of your uncles take the blowtorch out of the kitchen. I hid it under the sink next to the whiskey and Windex.”
Gran said all of this without taking a single breath, while also backing out of the old farm kitchen, drying her hands on her battered apron, and stealing a sip of Colleen’s coffee.
Skylar blinked, her arms trembling under the weight of so many potatoes. “O—okay.”
The other aunts worked like military chefs supplying a feed line.
Aunt Sheilagh glanced over her shoulder from where she chopped celery at the counter and snickered. “Nothing like another super sane Sunday dinner at the asylum. Drinking yet?”
Skylar lugged the potatoes toward the table and dropped the bushel onto the floor. “Aunt Col fixed my coffee.”
“Oh, damn, you’re committed.”
Skylar shrugged and began peeling. “Do you really think Finn’s going to cook Augustus?”
Sheilagh snorted. “Not a chance. My brother’s way too soft to kill that bird. It might as well be a pet by now. Twenty bucks says his whole family orders off the vegetarian menu this Thursday.”
Skylar shook her head and hid a chuckle. “He should have never named it.” Uncle Finn had five kids who spent the summer feeding and loving Augustus. “Do you think he knows?”
“That he’s an idiot?” Sheilagh filled the large pot with water for the potatoes. “Probably. I’ve been telling him for years.”
“I meant the bird. Do you think Augustus knows his days are numbered?”
“Work while you gossip, love.” Aunt Rosemarie patted the idle peeler in Skylar’s hand. “It’s how we make the side dishes so juicy.”
Sheilagh hauled the pot of water to the table so Skylar could soak the peeled potatoes. “Finnegan won’t be killing any turkey this year. He’d devastate the kids. Hell, Gianna made the damn thing a pilgrim hat!”
Skylar laughed. “Are they frying something today?”
“Lord, help us.” Aunt Rosemarie joined her with another peeler. “Let’s just hope no one gets rushed to the emergency room. I don’t feel like driving on the interstate. It’s Sunday, all the kooks are out.”
“Let’s hope they don’t burn the house down,” Aunt Sheilagh grumbled.
A loud explosion rattled the house and Skylar flinched, her shoulders shooting up to her ears as her eyes went wide with concern.
Gran’s voice echoed from upstairs as a storm of profanity rained from the rafters and all the kids came barreling into the kitchen from the den to see what caused the commotion.
“What was that?” several little voices demanded.
“Sweet Mary and Joseph, I told those bloody bastards not to use that thing on my porch!” Gran stormed into the kitchen and snatched a wooden spoon off the counter. It was her weapon of choice when commanding an army of idiots. “I’m going to beat someone’s arse if I find one scorched inch on my house! Vinnie, get your brother out of the tub. Sheilagh, check the roast.”
A cloud of smoke billowed into the kitchen from the porch and Gran coughed, batting the smog away with an irritated swing of her hand. “For Christ’s sake, Finnegan! I told you something like this would happen. Is anyone hurt?”
Coughs diluted into laughter. “We’re okay, Mum. Just a little taken by surprise.”
Gran swung the spoon, clipping Uncle Finn in the shoulder, but the shot was muffled by a thick layer of flannel. “This is why we can’t have nice things!”
Skylar herded the kids away from the commotion. “Okay, munchkins, everyone get to the dining room if you want to see the surprise I have in my bag.”
The children raced into the dining room like a stampede of caribou and she followed, snagging her purse on the way.
“Do I need to get my car keys?” Aunt Col yelled. “I swear to God, is it too much to ask for us to have one peaceful Sunday dinner where no one gets hurt? Bloody Christ, it’s like a zoo exhibit around here. You’re nothin’ but a bunch of wild animals.”
Skylar wiped her watering eyes, glad to get away from the smoke.
Uncle Pat poked his head inside the kitchen and yelled, “No injuries!”
“Yet,” Aunt Col mumbled into her mug.
“Skylar, where’s the surprise?” Gianna asked and the rest of the kids followed suit calling for her attention and crowding her waist like a litter of puppies looking to get fed.
“You have to be sitting to get a surprise.” Luckily, she always carried a secret stash of candy.
The table filled with little bodies as Skylar dug through her purse. She dispensed individually wrapped pieces of dark chocolate as the aunts loudly lectured the uncles for what was yet another stupid act they’d be retelling for years. Apparently, deep fryers worked great for wild game and fries, but not apple pies.
Gran marched through the dining room to the hall closet on a mission to find more rags. “A bunch of imbecilic jackasses, I raised.” She returned a few seconds later with a stack of dishcloths. “How they even dress themselves in the morning is beyond me. My poor holiday wreath I just bought at the church craft show is melting off the damn door, blown to bits with pie filling—” She paused and scanned the room of chewing pudgy cheeks. “Sweet, Jesus, what the hell happened to Maeve? Did she get the shits, too?”
Skylar laughed at her little cousin, who wore a mask of melted Godiva. “It’s chocolate, Gran. Just one piece to keep them occupied while the uncles clean up the mess out back.”
Gran tsked. “Before supper, Skylar? I don’t know why I even bother makin’ rules if no one’s going to follow them.” She bustled out of the dining room to deal with the disaster on the porch.
Skylar used a napkin to clean Maeve’s face, but paper wasn’t cutting it. “Okay, everyone line up and don’t touch anything. We’re taking a field trip to the bathroom.”
Skylar marched the kids to the powder room in the hall and supervised as they washed their hands and faces. Only one hand towel was injured in the making of this disaster, but she believed the stains would wash out.
Her mother eventually returned with a box of diapers for James, who was long past the age of potty training, but that’s what happened in a family of six kids when everyone else was busy.
“Oh, good, Katherine, you’re back.” Gran appeared. “We still don’t have the corn shucked.”
Sometimes it seemed like Gran had some sort of maternal tracking system on all her kids. Skylar’s mom shrank a little and she took pity on her.
Always a beautiful woman, her mom still had lustrous auburn hair with deep highlights that appeared more ruby than copper with age. She never needed makeup, and it had been years since Skylar saw her in anything other than cotton or flannel, but hidden beneath those maternal rags lived a bombshell of a woman. And on the nights when her father looked up from his work and remembered his wife, Skylar often caught him staring at her in awe, as if he still couldn’t believe how he’d landed such a babe.
It had been months, maybe even more than a year, since her pare
nts went out on a date, She wished they would make some time for themselves away from family, but there was always so much going on. Lately, stress hid in the creases around her mother’s eyes, eyes which always seemed too glassy as if she was about to cry or had just finished crying.
But no matter how overwhelmed she might seem, she still had that fiery McCullough temper all the female relatives owned. “I just walked through the goddamn door, Mum. Give me a second.”
“Don’t get mouthy with me, Katherine. Dinner’s almost ready and I’ve already used the spoon once today. I’m sick and tired of you kids sassing back when I tell you to do something.”
Frazzled, her mother shoved the box of diapers in Skylar’s arms. “Take these up to the nursery and put one on your brother. Then tell Vincenzo to give me a hand with the corn.” Grumbling under her breath, her mother followed Gran into the kitchen.
Skylar never minded helping, especially lately, since her dad had been working so much. But she hated seeing her mom so tired.
Skylar stilled, mid-way up the staircase. She’d seen her mother act like this before—exhausted, rundown, at the end of her emotional wits.
As if conjured by her thoughts, her mother reappeared in the hall and paused at the sight of Skylar lingering on the steps. “I thought I told you to go—”
“You’re pregnant.”
Her mother’s eyes bulged. “What?”
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Jesus, she knew McCulloughs were into big families, but at some point it began to seem a little irresponsible. “Mom, how could you let this hap—”
“Oh, give me a break, Skylar. I barely have the energy to dress myself let alone have another baby. And your father sleeps at the lab more than he sleeps at home, lately. Get real and get those diapers up to your brother.”
“Have you taken a test?”
“No, and I’m not going to. I know my body. I’m not pregnant.”
“But without a test—”
“For the love of God, Skylar, I know you worship your father, but the man is, in fact, human. Unless I’m working on the second coming of Jesus, there is no way in all of God’s holy land that I’m pregnant! Are you satisfied?”
Satisfied, and a bit chastised, she huffed. “Fine.” Maybe her mom’s foul mood was the result of needing to get laid. She marched up the steps to find James.
With Frankie away at Penn State and her dad’s busy schedule, they were short two men. Skylar didn’t have an abundance of time, but she helped out when she could.
However, lately, she’d been working on focusing a little more on herself. If Skylar were able to actually get ahead on her plans, she might be a greater help to her overpopulated family as a whole. But prisoners of Alcatraz had an easier time escaping than the females in her family.
Classes at the local community college ate up a great deal of her schedule. Finals were around the corner, so she sometimes crammed at the library until it closed. With so many relatives always buzzing about, quiet places to study were extremely hard to find.
She’d been a student at the community college for more than two years, but her time there was finally coming to an end. By the New Year, she’d be in possession of one associate’s degree and half way to her bachelor’s. Things were about to get very expensive.
When Skylar didn’t have her nose stuffed in a book, she was racing around town delivering pizzas. With the holidays approaching, and a ton of relatives on her gift list, she’d been picking up as many hours as possible at her grandfather’s Italian restaurant.
Money equaled freedom. The more financially stable she became, the easier it would be to finish her degree.
Yet, somehow, the direct focus on herself with little thought of others always filled her with guilt, as if she should be thinking of her family first. Maybe she should dial it back to help out more at home.
Her stomach pinched at the thought. How would that work when everything inside of her wanted to move forward with her dreams of becoming a teacher?
She wanted to help her family, but she also needed to think about herself. Hopefully, her dad would get approved for the grant and things would go back to normal soon, because no matter how strong her mother was, she was never quite as happy as she seemed when her dad stuck by her side.
When Skylar found Vinnie, he seemed put out at having to watch his brother for all of twenty minutes. “Mom wants you to give her a hand shucking the corn.”
He scoffed as if this was an extreme hardship. Skylar was certain he had other crucially important thirteen-year-old things to do.
“Go help her, Vinnie. And don’t complain.”
“Why can’t you help her—”
Before he could finish the sentence, she sent him a scathing glare that said she helped plenty and he better get his butt down stairs and shuck some corn.
“Fine,” he grumbled, closing out whatever game he played on his phone.
She shook her head and scooped James off the floor. “Where’s Hannah?”
Vinnie shoved his feet into his shoes and stood. “Who knows? Probably sexting Jason.”
“Ew. Don’t say that about our sister.”
“She drools over every random that contacts her. Her phone’s a cellular biohazard.”
“Vinnie, stop it! You would punch anyone else for disrespecting your sister, so don’t you talk about her like that.”
He shrugged and went down stairs. She carried James to the daybed against the wall. “Does your belly feel better?”
“My truck!” He pointed to the toy truck on the carpet.
Skylar retrieved the toy and handed it to him, earning a great big smile. “If only everyone’s problems could be solved so easily.”
James needed the most care, but he still held the rank of the easiest sibling at the moment. Her younger sister, Hannah, was at that age where the world felt like it was caving in, and the slightest inconvenience earned a massive, dramatic meltdown. It also didn’t help that Hannah had never been the sort to suffer in silence.
Frankie was the football star, following in their dad and Uncle Luke’s footsteps, so the family nearly threw their backs out with applause every time he displayed a basic skill. Hannah was the attention seeker with terrible instincts and a nose for finding trouble. Vinnie was the quintessential middle child who spoke in a language written of resentments. James was the baby, completely dependent on others and the most innocent of all.
And Skylar… She was the most dependable, the one who needed the least care, and was, therefore, the easiest to overlook. As the second oldest grandchild in the family, she’d been a babysitter for every child that came after her—and there were a lot of children.
Thank God she liked kids.
James blew raspberries into the air and sucked on his toy truck. His eyes grew heavy, but it was too late in the day for a nap.
Skylar tried to wake him up with a silly song. “The wheels on the truck go…”
He smiled. “It’s bus!”
“It could be a truck. Sing with me. The wheels on the truck go…”
“Wound and wound!”
“Round and round. The wheels on the truck go round and round, all through the town.”
As they sang, the sleepy glaze in his eyes faded.
Her mom worked in the office up at the lumberyard with most of the uncles during the week. But with one parent reliant on grants and the other stuck in an office at the family business, there wasn’t a lot of extra spending money, especially with three college age kids. No wonder her mom looked so stressed out.
In a family the size of theirs, there were always a million little things that needed to get done. And never enough time to focus on one single issue alone.
No matter how exhausting a big family could be, Skylar couldn’t imagine it any other way. Her family was nuts, wild, always busy, and always bitching about something, but they were the absolute best of the best.
Gran took care of all the grandkids during the day, but there were so
many little ones under the age of five, even her invincible grandmother seemed overwhelmed lately. Sometimes Skylar wondered if their family’s record breaking number of offspring was the result of poor family planning or just simply life. Maybe adulting was tough no matter how many kids a person had.
In an attempt to lighten the load, Skylar attended the community college. She’d proven she could be fiscally responsible and make sacrifices for others, but after two years and finally finishing her associate’s degree in Childhood Education, it was time to move on. She wanted her chance to attend a big college—and she planned to do it without costing her parents more money or stress.
“Give me your foot.” Skylar slipped a sock over James’s toes and wrangled his legs into a pair of denim overalls.
“You’re too cute for your own good.” She lifted him and kissed his cheek. “One day you’ll be just as bad as the rest of them with those irresistible McCullough eyes.”
He squealed and laughed when she blew a kiss into the crease of his neck. Her heart burst with warm love and she hugged him tight.
As much as she wanted to travel and have the college experience, being home with her family wasn’t a bad alternative. She loved her siblings and her little cousins. Before long, they’d all be grown. If she left Jasper Falls, she’d miss watching them grow.
The letter in her back pocket seemed to grow in weight as she weighed her options and struggled with indecisiveness. She’d researched financial aid and built a good foundation, but what if her leaving cost others too much? Aside from the minor expenses loans wouldn’t cover, what if her family needed her here?
As she considered this ongoing dilemma, she also wondered if her brother Frankie hesitated in the face of opportunities the way she did. Maybe that was why he got to go to the big college, because he didn’t second guess himself or feel guilty about focusing on his own future and putting everyone else’s needs second to his own.
Pining For You: Jasper Falls Page 2
