Don't Stop Holding Me (Y.A Series Book 5)

by Sarah Tork

  Lilly was perfect and a wonderful person to look up to…. unlike me.

  I wasn’t perfect.

  Whatever.

  I searched for Charles, and unlike my studious cousins, my brother lived and breathed soccer. He did okay in school, which meant he left his books back home with no plans to study until the last day of the holiday. Knowing him, he was probably in the backyard, kicking the ball back and forth with Aunt Judy’s twin boys, Trey and Phil, who were ten years old.

  Katherine walked out of the study and entered the kitchen. “Mommy, I want to help.”

  You little… goody-goody. She was doing it again. Being the sweet princess everyone loved. She was eleven and wanted to help. Imagine if they’d said ‘yes’ and threw an apron over her little ballerina frame. Then they’d think nasty thoughts about me and how lazy I must have been to have my baby sister step up to help before I did.

  But I wasn’t planning on helping.

  There were four women in that kitchen and there was barely enough room for them. Five grown women would be utter chaos, but despite that logic… they were still going to think whatever they wanted.

  “My little ballerina,” Mom gushed, her voice oozing with sweetness and joy, visibly enthused that her little princess gave her image brownie points to one up her sisters, despite the mask of unity they all proclaimed. I knew the truth and there was an ugly rivalry there that would last a lifetime.

  “Katherine, you’re in charge of placing the cutlery.” Grandma handed Katherine a tray of fine silver cutlery.

  “So Katie bear,” Aunt Claire rushed from the kitchen and helped Katherine set the dining table where the “adults” would sit. A foldaway table was allocated for the kids. “Any thoughts on what you want to be when you grow up, sweetie?”

  “A ballerina.” Katherine declared quickly.

  Aunt Claire and the rest of the women gushed at dear sweet Katherine. “That’s darling, but you know it’s always wise to have a back up.” Aunt Claire added.

  “Oh,” Katherine stalled, slowly placing a fork down. “Then I guess I’d like to be a baker and make cupcakes. I love cupcakes. Pink frosting, vanilla cake, white heart sprinkles on top.”

  “Cupcakes?” Aunt Claire repeated, sounding less than enthused. “Well… that’s sweet, darling.”

  Without a doubt, Aunt Claire probably thought being a baker was a pedestrian job. But hey, as long as it wasn’t one of her perfect genius kids, then who cared.

  “Katherine, honey?” Mom called from the kitchen. I could hear the anxiousness in her voice. Like I said before, everything’s a competition with those three sisters.

  Aunt Claire did a little dance and clapped her hands. “I think it’s great, Lizzy! Katie can open her own little cupcake shop when she’s older. So exciting. We’ll get free cupcakes for life!”

  I looked at Mom and she was about to burst in flames. She did not want Katherine to become…“a baker”. Not that there was anything wrong with being a baker, at least not to me there wasn’t. But our family was weird. Mom’s side in particular. But Aunt Claire wasn’t done, not by a long shot. She was going in for the kill now. She clapped her hands again.

  “And if you ever need a lawyer, you’ve got your pick, sweetie. Darryl, Nathaniel and Lilly will be more than happy to help with any legalities you might not understand.” Aunt Claire gushed ostentatiously. “Sigh…. all my kids want to be lawyers…. ah, sigh. I love my babies. They make their momma so proud, on a daily basis. I’m so lucky.”

  “A Baker?” Mom cleared her throat loudly and rushed from the kitchen, holding two saltshakers. “This is the first time I’m hearing about this. Sweetheart, you’ve been a trained ballerina for ages now. Katherine, you want to be a world famous dancer, right? Right?”

  Katherine nodded eagerly. “Yep, a world famous dancer.”

  Aunt Claire smoothed Katherine’s ponytail and cooed her for a second before facing Mom. “Ah, Lizzy. Don’t stop your girl’s dream. If she wants to be a baker, than let her be a baker. There’s nothing wrong with making cupcakes for a living.” Aunt Claire added and went back to the kitchen.

  “She’s never wanted to be a baker, Claire.” Mom insisted and followed her back into the kitchen.

  My phone buzzed again, but I ignored it… again. If it wasn’t James, or Jenna, I wasn’t interested.

  Once the turkey was cooked to perfection, Aunt Claire’s husband showed up from the office. She wasn’t happy with him and I heard them fighting in the driveway. She thought she was being slick keeping the “ruckus” outside, but if you stood by the window, you could hear everything.

  So, I stood by the window.

  Hiding behind the blinds.

  With a giant grin on my face.

  Because it was about time.

  Acting like her family was all that and a bag of chips, and well, it was kind of nice, seeing the goody –goody façade shrivel away, showing their truth. It wasn’t pretty, but it was satisfying to watch. Aunt Claire was losing it, looking like a crazy chicken in a frilly apron, flapping her arms up and down the driveway, being ridiculous.

  “Today of all days.” Aunt Claire hissed in anger as Uncle Landon loosened his designer orange tie. He was a big time defense attorney at a law firm in downtown Orlando. Right now everyone knew he was working on a big case and he couldn’t take the day off like the rest of the adults. But despite the reason, Aunt Claire didn’t seem to care. She was more concerned about appearances than job safety. Or, she wanted both at the same time. That big time money though…

  “You said you’d be here two hours ago,” she hissed again, pointing at the house.

  “Stop it, right now.” Uncle Landon stepped in front of her and I ducked from the window, not wanting to see the rest. Soon after, they came inside with smiles on their faces, looking as if nothing had happened. Maybe nothing did happen and that sort of thing was just an everyday thing for them? My phone buzzed again, and I ignored it, again.

  Aunt Claire marched her husband up to Grandpa and Grandma and after a quick handshake, a hug, a kiss (for Grandma), and an excuse on why he was joining the festivities this late, it led to a barrage of remarks…. Let the fun begin.

  “You’ve missed out on all the fun, Landon.” Mom declared with faux joy, holding a turkey baster while loosening the straps of her cringe-fest pink and white ruffled apron. Speaking of aprons, Grandma had four of them, and they were all the same, and they were all atrocious.

  “Danny closed his store early just to be here early, Landon. Tsk – tsk.” Aunt Judy announced, kind of sounding smug, kind of reminding me of a lion preying on a poor deer with a broken leg. It wasn’t fair, but it was nature.

  The rivalry was back with a vengeance!

  “You work too much, Landon.” Grandma piped in, shooting looks to her youngest daughter, a weird mixture of ‘wow, is this guy for real, you’d better get a handle on him!’ – and – ‘what kind of a wife are you, ridiculous!’

  This lot thought they knew the answers to the universe, as well as gladly delivering it in a patronizing way. My Grandma was the best example of that. But the unspoken rule was, even if her logic seemed flawed you’d better not contradict her in front of everyone. And you’d better have a smile on your face when she so graciously gave advice.

  Aunt Claire’s forehead creased. She looked distressed and I found that very satisfying, because FOR ONCE… somebody else was under the negative spotlight. It usually wasn’t her or her family – AKA the perfect bunch/not so perfect bunch now. But things could change over dinner again, and the negative spotlight might switch over to someone else.

  Please don’t let it be me, again!

  So dinner began and I felt this weird energy, like something was brewing in secret. I glanced around the table, catching my family looking at me with weird smiles. They wanted to know how “Young Naive Annabelle” here got herself so “tiny”. As if they didn’t know. But their behavior didn’t shock me. Being stupid was a skill they all mastered…. BE
AUTIFULLY.

  Top marks.

  And if I had more courage, and a one-way ticket out of state, I’d shout it out, oh so boldly, oh so carelessly, oh so… I didn’t give a bleep. DIET AND EXERCISE, PEOPLE! DIET AND EXERCISE, IT’S REALLY SIMPLE.

  It really was that simple.

  Really.

  “Anna, you need more food on your plate,” Grandma insisted and before I could contest, Mom took my plate and began piling on extras… from each casserole dish.

  I sucked in a rough breath, because…. Fuck my life.

  “You’re a growing girl, you need sustenance.” Grandpa chimed in.

  Done piling my plate, Mom placed the plate back in front of me and sat back in her seat. But it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. I felt this strong aura coming from her, like an incoming grenade ready to launch, urging me to cave, to comply and EAT…. just to appease our family. But it was pointless, the negative spotlight had shifted from Aunt Claire to me, now. Lovely.

  I couldn’t eat. I HATED what was happening. My mom was silently scolding me, and everyone was watching, waiting to see what my next move would be. But I was about to disappoint the crap out of them. I picked up my fork, stabbed a piece of turkey and…. ate it. Because, hearing about it later at home wasn’t worth it.

  I ate a few more bites, one after the other and dinner resumed normally. How not shocking. Halfway through my plate, with everyone preoccupied with their own conversations and meals, I rose and took my plate to the kitchen. I was beyond full, no joke. But honestly though, if they hadn’t harassed me earlier I would have only eaten half of what I just did. So…. Thanks, Grandma?

  But… trouble wasn’t over. My stomach felt wobbly, threatening to perch over my skinny jeans, like they used to.

  Like.

  They.

  Used.

  To?

  Calm down!

  “Anna?”

  I placed my plate on the counter and turned around. Grandma stood by the island, wiping her hands with a green dishtowel.

  Nervous, I hid my hands behind my back, feeling like a thief caught in the act. “Yeah, Grandma?”

  She marched to me and took the plate, holding it between us… like it was evidence. “Now young lady, you’re not going to throw all this food out now, are you?”

  “No, I was…” I stumbled, thinking the best way to get out of this. “I was going to put it in the fridge, for later.”

  Her eyes lit up, all confusion gone. “Then let me wrap it in saran wrap.” With an extra pep in her step, she quickly wrapped my plate and placed it in the fridge. “This way it’ll stay fresh when you take it home later.”

  I gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Grandma.”

  Like a job well done, she smiled and returned back to the dinner table, resuming conversation about which of her sons in law made more money, and who was doing horrible in business. The under the table comments, and shady statements were back with a vengeance.

  Today was a HOLIDAY and the dinner table was turning into a courtroom, where the breadwinners of each family had to confirm or deny their failures. It was all bullshit and it wasn’t a conversation I wanted to be a part of, because out of all the husbands my dad made the least. He and my mom operated a little book keeping business in the basement back home.

  Making money, competing with others about who had the better life was a huge problem, one that’s been brewing between my parents lately. And my mom was instigating it mostly, and when I say mostly… I meant all of it.

  My phone vibrated again, but I ignored it.

  With everyone too preoccupied to notice little old me, I went outside through the kitchen patio door. It smelled like humidity and rain, but the sun was still shining. Maybe it would rain later. But for now I’d use the quiet serenity of my grandparents’ front porch that encircled their home, to my advantage.

  “Finally, some privacy.” I sighed in relief and settled on the brand new porch swing, instantly feeling myself digress past the anxious girl under constant interrogation… to the girl who finally caught a break. I loved it out here. It was peaceful, and just what the doctor ordered.

  *~*~*

  ANNABELLE

  The ride home from Grandma’s house was interesting.

  Very interesting.

  My dad was angry with my mom.

  So here’s the scoop. We were supposed to go to two homes today. Last year we did Thanksgiving at both homes, Dad’s side first and then Mom’s side for dinner later. This year we were supposed to go to Mom’s side of the family first, and then head over to Dad’s side of the family, second.

  But it didn’t work out like that.

  We were supposed to eat around three, but the turkey wasn’t ready and instead of leaving to head to (Dad’s side) Grandma’s house, we stayed till 8 p.m. and then came home in a silent car. Tensions were at an all time high and I felt my dad’s anger, scorching in the direction of my mom. I knew in my gut he’d felt manipulated about Thanksgiving and now that it was over, there was little he could do but call his Mom and apologize repeatedly.

  My dad drove the car inside the garage and got out immediately. Mom lingered in her seat while Charles and Katherine, obliviously ran to the rooms. I followed but stopped outside the garage exit to the house.

  Mom huffed out loudly. “Please stop, it’s over, there’s nothing we can do about the situation. Stop ignoring me, you’re acting like a child.”

  A phone rang.

  Dad cleared his throat and answered his cell. “”Hey Mom, yeah just we got home. I know… I’m sorry, too.”

  Mom gasped. “You’re unbelievable, you know that. This is ridiculous. Don’t you dare blame today on me, don’t you dare!

  Dad ignored her, chuckling into the receiver. “Oh yeah, Gareth and Alexia are still there? Ha, Dad’s pulling out the old poker table… awesome, okay, I’ll swing by shortly. Oh yummy, left over pumpkin pie, can’t wait.”

  Mom gasped again, but I rushed to my room, not wanting to hear the rest of their fight.

  But, it was all kind of funny.

  Mom being in the firing line, for once.

  I wanted to welcome her to the real world, where it wasn’t fun being told off, or being made to feel like you did something wrong. I’ve had to deal with that kind of bullshit for the last six months. Now it was her turn to feel the burn.

  I changed out of my skinny jeans and into shorts and a tank top. I sprawled across my bed and checked my phone. There were five text messages waiting for me and they were all from Dean.

  Dean: Hey, how’s it going?

  Dean: Happy Thanksgiving.

  Dean: I’m at my Aunt’s house. My family is crazy. LOL.

  Dean: Did you eat any turkey?

  Did I eat any turkey?

  It’s Thanksgiving, of course I did!

  I shook my head and read the last text.

  Dean: Well, I see that you must be busy. Hope you had a great day.

  Annabelle: Happy Thanksgiving. I went to my grandma’s house for Thanksgiving and it was crazy too. Of course I ate turkey, it’s Thanksgiving! I just got home.

  He didn’t respond, which was fine by me. I wasn’t in the mood for a long conversation with him anyway. I switched over to my earlier text session with Jenna, before I’d gone over to my grandma’s house. It was a brief conversation where we said “Happy Thanksgiving” and that we’d text later in the day.

  It was later now.

  So, I texted her.

  Annabelle: Yo, ho.

  Jenna: Yo ho back to you. How was it?

  Annabelle: Nothing special. Turkey was decent. I’m glad it’s over. How was your Thanksgiving feast?

  Jenna: Scrumptious! My uncle brought the turkey, my mom made the sides and we took it to my grandpa’s house. I had a great time.

  Annabelle: You going to see Tom tonight?

  Jenna: He’s not in town. He went with his uncle’s family to Miami. I think he’s coming back tomorrow. Are you going shopping tonight?

&nbs
p; Annabelle: I don’t know. Are you?

  Jenna: Duh. My parents have been planning for Black Friday for months. Even Robby’s excited, which is hilarious since he’s been gonzo in the cooking world for the last couple of years. There’s a sale on this stainless steel cookware he’s been whining about all day, he just has to have it, even though it’s going to cost him an arm and a leg. But damn, who knew pots and pans were so expensive. For that kind of money, those pans better turn broccoli into gold! LOL!!!

  Annabelle: LOL.

  Jenna: GTG, mom’s calling me to go over the game plan for tonight.

  Annabelle: Then I bid you a good night and good luck. May you not get squashed by crazy crowds, and girl…. grab that blender with everything you got.

  Jenna: Will do. Later, girl.

  Annabelle: Bye.

  To say I was jealous was an understatement. I wanted to feel that freedom, that warmth, the non-judgment, the one for all – all for one family ideology she got gifted at birth. Jenna had an amazing Thanksgiving, and tonight she and her family would have an epic adventure Black Friday shopping. I wanted that, too. Maybe I was being dramatic, probably was, but could anyone blame me?

  I held my phone to my chest, wishing it would ring or buzz, and wishing stupid problems, or miscommunications from the past would just go away. I wanted to see James tonight. I wanted to feel his arms wrapped around me, his soft kisses down my neck, feel his warmth, hear him tell me about his day and all the idiots who tried to start a fight with him.