Breaking the Ice

twenty-five

I think Thanksgiving was the worst day of my life.

I remember sitting on my couch at around midnight, elbows on my knees and head in my hands, staring blankly at the carpet. I remember the sound of crying from down the hall, the smell of smoke from the open balcony doors, the feel of my freshly done hair pulling under my palms. That night would be imprinted in my mind for the rest of my life.

But the strangest part retrospectively was that the day started off pleasantly busy: rolling out of bed to help my mom start putting the turkey in the oven, helping Lex with her English homework, getting in a quick workout and a hot shower. All of this on top of getting the house ready to greet not just Ian and Jen, but also my other siblings.

Leah and Kiera weren't often home, since they both lived down in Florida. Kiki was living in Orlando, working through her sophomore year of university, and Leah was living with her newest boyfriend and worked as a hairdresser in a Miami salon. During the holidays, they'd taken to driving up to Atlanta to spend some time at home, which always sent my mother's heart leaping into her throat.

"Luke, honey, do you mind watching the kitchen while I clean the bathroom?" she called, already halfway down the hall with toilet cleaner and a fresh bottle of hand soap. She rattled around in there before heading to the guest bedroom, freshening it up for Ian and Jen. And then it was the living room, fluffing the pillows and dusting the picture frames.

The apartment was pretty tight when the five of us were growing up, with Leah and Kiki sharing a room together and Adrian and I packed into the one I now occupied alone. Alex always had her own room, but until Kiera had moved out, it was essentially a shoebox. Now, that shoebox was a guest room that barely fit a double bed and a tiny dresser and Alex took over the now free girls' room. When the whole family was together, Leah would roll in an extra mattress, which was usually met with some complaining on Lex's end.

"Ugh," she groaned, dragging herself out of her room. Alex always dolled up a little for holidays, today wearing a new pair of flared jeans and a metallic-y purple sweater. Her hair beads clicked together as she pulled her braids up into a ponytail. "Luke, can you help me with the bed? I can't carry it."

"Yeah. Get Dad to help in the kitchen," I said over a pan of vegetables.

"He's not here," Lex replied, and I jerked to look at her. At my disbelief, she sighed. "He said he was picking up a pumpkin pie."

"Kiki always brings one, though," I muttered, but at that moment the doorbell rang. "That should be Ian and Jen."

Alex's eyes widened and a grimace ripped across her cheeks. "You open it. I'll watch the kitchen."

With a sigh, I agreed, passing her my spatula and making my way to the front door. I opened it to find Adrian snd Jen smiling wide on the other side and carrying a big dish of Jen's famous sweet potatoes. They came in and greeted the rest of the house (not without some strained but resigned hugs from Alex) and, with the extra hands, helped in the kitchen while I got Leah's mattress in order.

In the end, though, it would prove not to be hers.

The next time the doorbell rang, Mom left to go answer it with Lex, Ian, and I following at her heels, itching to see our sisters. But when we opened the door, we were greeted with not two, but three faces.

In front, Kiki stood with a pie in her hands, smiling. Her hair was straightened and long, almost down to her waist, and her eyes were lined with thick wings. She wore a pretty, copper-red dress under a thick winter jacket, already used to the weather down in Florida. Next to her, Leah was also grinning, though a little nervously, and her hands were folded into the pockets of her jacket. She'd always had the most complimented hair between my siblings: long and more loosely curled, well managed and shiny. Today, it was pulled into a braided style draped over her shoulder...