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“Jack, what the hell is taking you so long?” Ralph grumbled.
Jack reluctantly creaked open the door and stepped out.
He was wearing an eggnog colored turtleneck, matching Ralphs sweater vest and brown corduroy trousers. “This is so stupid.” he groaned, crossing his arms.
“You’ll be fine, Honey.” Ralph cooed. “But my parents can be pretty strict, so be on your best behavior.”
Their old Buick Lucerne farted up the road, coming to a screeching stop when it got to Mister and Misses Amour's driveway. “Wow Ralph…this is your house?” Jack said with his mouth gaping open. “It’s my parents house, but thank you.”
The house was three stories tall and crafted of old fashion stone, with a heavy wooden door guarded by clay columns, above the door was a wide mouthed balcony. Jack grabbed the silver plated door knocker with a shaky hand, knock knock knock
Before the fourth knock, Ralph grabbed Jack's wrist. “That’s enough.” He whispered.
A tall, stern man with thinning blond hair opened the door. He had broad shoulders and a grimace baked into his face. “Is this your boyfriend, Ralph?” The man bellowed. “Yes father.”
Ralph's father nodded and moved to the side, letting Jack and Ralph in. The house was bustling with every cousin, auntie, uncle, grandma and grandpa you could ever imagine. Within a second they were all looking at Jack. “You…you said this was just gonna be your parents…” Jack stuttered.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Jack spent the night being hugged and kissed by fat new jersey aunties that left the smell of cheap perfume baked into his sweater. Making awkward small talk with drunk uncles that called him “Jake” and “Jennifer”. Taking pictures with squealy cousins asking him to be there gay best friend, and shooting death glares at Ralph the whole time.
“Oh you two are just so cute together!” Ralph’s fat Aunt Tammy said. She pushed them together and stepped back, holding her two ton polaroid camera. “I just have to take a picture!” She beamed. Jack pulled an awkward smile and put his arm around Ralph, his hand on Ralph’s hip bone. Mr. Armour shot him a thousand yard stare so he moved his arm up to Ralph's shoulders.
Come dinner time, Ralph had heard enough questions about how he’s gonna have kids and who’s the woman in the relationship. Jack was done being interrogated by Ralph's protective older brother and shoved into group photos.
Dinner was unlike anything Jack had experienced. A mile long table stretched across the dining room, covered in every Thanksgiving food you can think of.
He forgot his manners along the way,
“Jack, can I talk to you outside?” Ralph's father said. Jack felt his heart pounding out of his chest, his lungs couldn’t hold enough air, his body shook at the core. He stepped outside with Mr. Armour, it was pitch black by now and he forgot to grab his coat.
“I just wanted to let you know, if you break Ralph’s heart or do anything to hurt him, I’ll snap you in half.” Mr. Armour bellowed, holding one of Jack’s twig-like arms. “Yes sir.” Jack replied, hating the way his voice shook. “But, you seem like a wonderful young man, and I’m proud to accept you into our family. I’m proud of my son.” Ralph’s father stuttered. This was the first, and probably last time that Jack would hear the commander's voice with any tinge of fear in it. “Thank you, sir.”
The feast in the book may have involved fire and the death of a child, but it feigns in comparison to the craziness of Yearly thanksgiving at Ralph's house.