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11am on the dot. Gloria was parked in front of Emily’s house for Thanksgiving. It's the first year she’s hosting. She lived in the rich part of the state near the waterfront, and bought it partly with the money she gets from her job as a lawyer. It was huge, almost overwhelming if you're looking at it for the first time. It was gorgeous.
And Gloria was still squatting around the Greens’ house.
She was better off than last time she was here, with the Café and all, but seeing how much more successful she was, especially with how close they are in age made her feel like she was fighting a losing battle.
Emily was perfect. She was the platonic ideal of a woman's success. Giant house, a child, a spouse who loves her. She had everything Gloria didn't.
Emily was everything Gloria wasn't.
She had to have been in the car for at least 15 minutes trying to stall. Her food was getting cold. Last Thursday, Bill and Alice helped her with the rolls and cornbread recipe, so that this week she could do it all by herself, as they were all going to be in the country this week. She spent a lot of time for them to be pretty good.
Emily’s turkey is probably going to be delicious.
Walking into her house she was bombarded with family members giving her hugs. She couldn't even take her shoes off first. Which her mom scolded her on after a quick embrace.
It was loud and overwhelming at first. People were all having separate conversations at stadium volumes. The lights were shining in her eyes, giving her a mild headache, and everyone's sudden attention to her was too much.
“Oh my gosh! Gloria?” Emily shouted from across the room, walking up to her. Reminding her who she was here to see. “Let me get that for you.” She said, grabbing her trays of food.
When she saw her, her resentment vanished, and she was excited to talk to her cousin she hasn't seen all year. They used to be inseparable until Emily went to college and Gloria moved out to search for her own success.
Why was it so much easier for her?
“Wanna help me with breakfast, Gigi?” She asked while entering the kitchen, putting her trays down. Gloria followed instinctually, like a duckling.
Inside the kitchen, her uncle and Emily’s spouse were in separate parts of the room working on different things. There was a barrage of differing smells that all flowed perfectly together. Making her stomach growl. She'd barely eaten this week from the stress of making some food for today.
“Sure, Em.”
Making breakfast was great, she fell into a rhythm and was able to chat with her family without the looming fear of being compared… And sneak some food in before she becomes irritable. She could talk about art and business owning. Her life with the Green’s and pastry making. All without judgement or ulterior motives–Even some conversations were relatable to each other.
She forgot what it was like to be equals for once.
The rest of the day was less good.
Family members she knew less well would come up to Gloria and make small talk, but it always felt like a quota to fill. Something they can check off their boxes so they can talk to the real star of the show. No one seemed interested in having a deeper conversation with her than “How's your day been?” Giving her less moments to talk to her best friend.
She didn't want to bother Emily or her parents, so she stayed out of her way to avoid looking clingy. Plus they were busy talking to their own family they haven't seen all year, it was best to float around.
Or just sit on the couch and look at her phone.
The Kaitlyn’s seem to be doing a Friendsgiving, and Alexander and Terry are having a night in, watching Christmas flicks.
That wasn't helping.
Why was she having a bad time? She was with people she loved, she should be having a great time.
So, why did she feel so alone?
To distract herself and be sociable, she'd play with the young children at the party because at least they weren't bogged down by adult life and would want to color. The one thing she was good at.
Bachelor’s degree and all she can show for it is busying toddlers.
What was she saying? She liked the kids.
Maybe some beer will loosen her up a little.
The kids were fun, but always a lot. As much as she liked them, they drained her much faster than some of the adults.
She liked how kind they were to her. Seeing her as a vessel for play and not something to be put on a pedestal. The grown ups could learn a thing or two from them.
4 o’clock is when dinner rolled around. Gloria had been here for a while and her energy was quickly depleting.
She was sitting between her mom and dad, with her aunt and uncle right across from her, with Emily to the right of them, mostly busy taking care of her child. She tried to talk to them in the beginning, but her parents were more interested in what they had to say, so, eventually, she just…stopped talking.
Emily’s turkey was delicious, and everyone else’s food was good too. She ate most of it quite fast. Letting her long day without eating speak for itself.
With nothing else to do, and choosing not to be on her phone–To seem polite– She devoted her time to listening to the conversations next to her. Never being able to join in without interrupting and being seen as rude, or the conversation ending with her, even if she was encouraging a dialogue. It was how she got through big gatherings, even if she wanted to be part of the party, everything in her power didn't let her. She was the outcast.
At least people complimented her art.
They didn't understand it, but they liked the colors.
The only time someone talked to her it was in a similar vein to “Did you hear? Emily is trying to get a boat.”
“I know, dad. Mr. Green has a kayak, if that counts.” She knew where he was getting at, even before he could try and make a comparison.
People only said her name when talking about Emily’s accomplishments. Using her as a poor baseline. A bad example for the children to not aspire to be. Even when they said they'd stop, they never fully ended their prodding.
Quickly, everything became too much. The alcohol in her system made her feel everything a little bit more than she wanted. Her mental state and how she constantly felt at war with her own family, how she could hear the chairs moving and utensils scraping against plates. Every conversation was playing in full clarity into her ears. How every single texture in her mouth was invading her senses and wouldn't leave, no matter how much water she drank. She was exhausted.
And angry.
She knew if she stayed any longer she would snap at anyone who tried to talk to her, so she removed herself from the situation very abruptly, not taking anything with her.
The only place that was quiet enough was the garage. She decided to hide in there until her emotions became more manageable. Huddling herself in a ball on the cold concrete.
She wished she was with the Greens.
No. She can't rely on someone else’s family to keep her feelings in line. She is an adult. She can take deep breaths just like any other human being.
Unfortunately, Emily walked in, startling her. The soda fridge was in here, she was probably getting some for the children. “Gigi? Are you okay?” She stopped at the doorway when noticing her, looming over her, making her feel like a bug she could squash easily with her heel.
But, she didn't.
Gloria didn't answer.
“I go in here sometimes. When things are too loud. I get it.” She said softly, walking to the fridge and opening it. “Been coming in here more often since I made Little Girlie.” The nickname for her daughter.
She handed her a Mid Night once she was done rummaging in the fridge. Sitting down next to Gloria, she asked “Do you want to tell me about it? Get it off your chest?”
She couldn't. Her whinging was about the woman she was talking to. She was aware of the decorum of that situation, even if her inhibitions were lowered.
“I shouldn't. You have a kid and you're hosting. You should get back out there.” She politely declined.
“It's hard, I know.” She softly said, noticing her discomfort.
Gloria hoped Emily was a bad person. Begged she could be capable of evil. To justify this resentment–This jealousy– over this woman, but when she dug deeper and talked to her one on one, this woman is the nicest person she’s ever met.
God, she was so selfish.
“I wanted to hate you.” She mumbled. “When my mom and dad would compare us, I wanted to see someone that I hated. Maybe for a moral reason, so I could justify that I was doing good, actually.”
But, neither weren't. Emily wasn't morally bankrupt, and Gloria was doing extremely poorly.
Her parents had done this her whole life, she was never given a moment of achievement. She was always behind. Even in roads neither crossed. Somehow she was worse than her in every way.
She was growing a headache.
“I don't want to resent you, but I feel pitted against you. It's unfair.” She was sounding like a toddler, and it didn't help that she slammed her fists against the concrete floor, earning a pained hiss from her actions. “I'm just a point of comparison, always living in your shadow.” She mumbled, quieting down after realizing she sounded selfish.
“Oh, Gloria, I’m so sorry.” She said apologetically, putting her hand on her back for comfort. “Parents can be so annoying, and for what? ‘Pushing you to try harder?’ Girl, it's not the 80’s anymore.”
Gloria didn't answer again, letting a few quiet seconds pass. She adjusted to be more comfortable in the concrete. Emily said solemnly. “I wish they'd stop, though. They only care about me because I'm successful.” She doodled in the dust. “They don't ask me about my day… Just my job.”
Gloria didn't move her head, but looked at her with concern.
“I'm sorry, Em.” She said, “You're so much better than me, though… It makes sense to get that much attention. Even if you hate it.”
“No I'm not.” Emily lightly bopped Gloria’s shoulder. Her personality shifted so fast. It was like Gloria had hallucinated her previous demeanor. “I wish I had as much artistic skill as you. Have you seen my opening statements? So droll. I need someone like you to give me pointers on being creative.” She chuckled at that last sentence, pulling her into a hug.
“Skill…You were listening to me.” She laughed, still sniffling and leaning into the embrace. “Thanks, Emily. I'm sorry for being such a prick.”
“Girl, it's all good.”
“And between you and me.” She mumbled after a second of silence. “My folks compare me to your cousin, Leo any chance they get. They probably got it from Grandpa.”
There's always been a bug at the back of her head that wished her parents were only slightly better, she wished they treated her as a person, but there was a different bug that would tell her that she should be grateful. Grateful they weren't worse. They were only a little bit bad, which is better than the worst people alive.
She was glad her and Emily both had slightly bad parents together.
They weren't alone.
“I'm going back out, wanna join?” She said while standing up and placing her hand in front of her.
Gloria waved it off. “Maybe in a minute.”