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chapter nine. blair waldorf must pie!
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As per Gossip Girl's Thanksgiving tradition, I'm trading my laptop for stovetop. And for the next 16 hours, the only thing I'm dishing is seconds. When the cat's away, the mice will play. Have fun, little rodents.
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THANKSGIVING, A HOLIDAY celebrated all across America owned the idea of giving thanks and sacrifice for the blessing of the harvest. Every year, Victoria had something to give thanks for, and with the year she had so far, there were many things for her to be thankful for. The Humphrey thought about being thankful for how well the Ivy Week party had turned out to be, that Vanessa returned to New York City and for the start of new friendships. . . well, maybe she was to be thankful that her mother had finally returned home to Brooklyn. Victoria assumed she was to possess some kind of gratitude for the fact her mother and father rekindled, that their family begun its way to return to a form of normality.
Remember when Victoria thought that if her father did rekindle the relationship he had with her mother, she would respect that? Well, she respected his choice but her happiness wasn't exactly shown. . . because there wasn't any. Victoria Humphrey could only continue to imagine what her mother had been doing in Hudson other than her art, it was a horrid image that she wished she didn't think about but it was impossible to not. Not when Alison Humphrey roamed all over the loft, cleaning, cooking and trying to mend the broken bond she had with her children. Oh, Jenny was fine. Dan and Victoria were just not as welcoming, but Dan handled it better than Victoria.
Victoria knew she was being immature. She explained it to Dan, she explained it to Vanessa. The Humphrey knew it was for the better, for the time being, for her to keep her distance away from her mother, until she was ready to approach her and be able to have a conversation that didn't end with harsh words being exchanged, lips quivering or tears streaming down faces.
The thing was, Thanksgiving was a holiday where you were supposed to spend it with your family. Victoria tying herself down to her room, hiding through dinner, breakfasts and lunches had ceased with the approach of a family holiday that gathered everyone across New York to the dining table within their family home. She helplessly pondered how exactly she was going to keep herself from lashing out or ruining the holiday her father deeply loved, it caused her attention to shift onto her thoughts.
Victoria chewed on her bottom lip, her head slightly tilted to the side as she pondered. There were still ways to ignore her mother, right?
She had been staring off into the distance, her eyes finding rest upon the plain canvas sitting on her easel. Victoria had been struggling finding yet another masterpiece to paint. The misery of New York when rain poured had been painted and completed, no doubt the next piece of art was close enough but there was no motivation or inspiration that the Humphrey owned. Though, with how blank the canvas appeared to be, a memory had flickered into Victoria's mind. . . the night of Blair Waldorf's birthday party.
