Thanksgiving morning arrived faster than I expected, and I found myself in my parents' kitchen, surrounded by pots, pans, and an index card holder of Mama's now brown-tinged recipe cards sitting on the counter.
The aroma of roasting turkey filled my nostrils. I had a slow cooker for everything: collards, black-eyed peas, apple cider, balsamic brussel sprouts, candied yams.
The sweet scent of Leonard's sweet potato pie complimented everything else: the baked mac n' cheese, sweet yeast rolls, cornbread stuffing and a host of other dishes that I had no business making all in one day.
Samyra and her family as well as Ralph, will all be here soon, so I just wanted everything to be perfect. I was determined to make this Thanksgiving a memorable one, despite the weight of the lawsuit, and the stress of cooking a feast for everyone in my childhood home.
It didn't help that Shane and I stayed up late, talking on the phone after he got back in from the annual Thanksgiving charity banquet that he and his mother were invited to attend.
As I stirred the cranberry sauce, Jasmine came into the kitchen with boundless energy. "Lavender, you won't believe what happened on my stream last night! I had over a thousand viewers and someone even donated $500!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "The fucking chat was going crazy!"
"Language." I say quickly." Normally, I would be jumping up and down, cherishing these moments with her, but today, I was fatigued, overwhelmed and focused on getting everything done on time. "But Jasmine, I'm really busy right now. Can we talk later?" I replied, trying to concentrate on not over-caramelizing the cranberries.
Undeterred, Jasmine continued to babble about her gaming achievements, and my patience wore thin.
Finally, I snapped, "Jasmine, not now, okay? I have a lot on my plate right now, and I can't handle this."
Immediately, I regretted my outburst. Memories from when my mother yelled at me in the kitchen just months before she died flooded my mind. I didn't want to relive that moment, but the stress and pressure were getting the best of me.
Jasmine's face fell, and I could see the hurt in her eyes. She didn't deserve my anger; she was just trying to share her excitement with me. My eyes started to saturate as I realized what I had said and how I said it.
I turned away, unable to face Jasmine in shame. But Jasmine surprised me. She walked over and gently hugged me, saying, "It's okay, Sissy. I understand. You're under a lot of pressure, and I should've given you some space. But don't worry, I can help with anything you need."
Her words hit me hard, and I pulled her close, hugging her tightly into my embrace, the flour from my apron leaving several marks on her outfit. We laughed it off and I grabbed her face, using my thumb to stroke against her plump cheekbones.
"You know, when I start to miss Mama, all I have to do is look at you."
"I know, I'm basically her doppleganger." She joked, trying to put me in a better mood.
"I'm so sorry I snapped at you.
"It's alright. We all have our moments," she replied, wiping away my tears. "You're doing so much for everyone, and I'm proud of you. I'm gonna change and come back down to help you finish, okay? Demarius is coming over and you got me out here looking like a crackhead." She giggled. I laughed and nodded. As she left to change, I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the stress lifting off my shoulders.
Then, my phone buzzed with a text from Shane, making me smile at his thoughtful words:
Him: I'm so thankful to have you in my life, baby.
