Making Our Mark
Chapter 25: Clawsmas
Clawsmas preparations were in full swing on the Worthington estate the moment the sun had risen on December twenty-fifth. My father and Johnny, the latter who was feeling loads better after some much-needed bedrest and medication, were responsible for the heavy-lifting, setting up tables and chairs for the many guests that we were expecting that evening. Given that my father was the oldest of six children and all of them were married with at least two children each, the family getting together for the holidays was always a big celebration.
My mother and I spent most of the day in the kitchen, preparing our contributions for the potluck-style dinner: hers being the majestic turkey, complete with the award-winning Worthington family stuffing, and mine being my favourite tourtière. Given our huge family that we were feeding, plus Johnny's selfishness when it comes to food, I always make several pies and this year was no exception.
"How's the turkey coming along, Mom?" I asked from my place by the marble island where I was chopping bison.
"It's looking good," my mother replied, examining her culinary work of art through one of the windows of our double oven. "Looks like you did a good job with the stuffing."
"Did I really?" I asked with a broad smile.
"Absolutely," my mother affirmed. "Great Grandma Worthington would be so proud."
"Well, thanks for teaching me how to make it," I told her, smiling appreciatively. "I wasn't sure I would get it right."
"Of course," my mother chirped, looking up at me. "It's a secret family recipe, so it's only fitting to pass it down to the next generation of Worthingtons, you know, before one of them legally become a Rios."
I yelped in surprise, causing the knife that I was using to slip from my grasp and clatter on the island. Fortunately, my fingers remained intact.
"What?" my mother questioned with an amused smile. "Too soon?"
"Way too soon, Mom," I corrected, blushing furiously.
"Sorry," my mother said with an apologetic smile. "It's just, I've seen the way he is with you. He's not like the reckless monsters his age. He's so good to you, especially on the night of the gala. Filling Dmitry's shoes on the dance floor isn't an easy thing to do and Javier did it at a moment's notice."
"Yeah, I still can't believe how well that turned out," I remarked, picking up the knife again with a smile.
"It warms my heart to see how happy he makes you, sweetie," said my mother tenderly.
"I'm very happy with him," I admitted, meeting her warm gaze. "I'm happy with the way things are now and I want to enjoy that phase of life that we're in right now."
"As you should," said my mother, leaning against the island. "You sure he can't come tonight? You know he's welcome here anytime."
"I know, but his family's big holiday shindig is tonight too," I explained, going back to chopping. "Otherwise, he would have loved to be here."
"I'm sure he would have," said my mother, smiling slyly at me.
"Well, he'll be over for New Year's," I declared, shooting my mother an exasperated look. "Try not to embarrass me."
"Oh, sweetie, nothing I do would send that monster running for the hills," my mother told me.
"Let's not test that theory, Mom," I told her. "Even though Johnny finds it hard to believe, I actually like Javier."
"I'll try," said my mother with a light laugh.
"I guess it's a good thing I'm not seeing him until New Year's," I remarked. "I don't want to subject him to family drama this early in our relationship."
My mother nodded grimly, knowing exactly what I was referring to. "Here's hoping your uncle and aunt have buried the hatchet for the sake of the holidays."
"Just in case, should we keep the fine china locked up?" I asked with raised eyebrows.
"But we always bring them out for special occasions, Clawsmas included," my mother argued politely.
"I know," I said as I resumed cutting the bison, "but given how unstable Aunt Alyse is, I don't want to take chances."
My mother smiled and said, "I'm sure she'll hold her tongue, sweetie, and that the party will go smoothly."
"If you say so, Mom," I murmured, silently praying for a Clawsmas miracle.
I knew I should have prayed harder.
My thoughts were nothing short of vulgar as I mopped up yet another spill, this one in the hallway connecting the foyer to the kitchen. It has barely been an hour since the annual Worthington family Clawsmas party kicked off and I have already swept up one broken plate, mopped three spills, picked up about a dozen fallen cookies, and lost track of the number of times I had considered flinging myself out the nearest window. I love my little cousins to pieces, but their lack of good manners is causing me to lose my patience.
Maybe if you watched your damn kids, Aunt Alyse, instead of glaring at Uncle Tim across the room, maybe this place will still be standing by the time you leave.
My mother met my eyes as she exited the kitchen with a tray of steaming mugs and smiled sympathetically. "Thank you, sweetie."
I smiled through gritted teeth and said, "I'm another spill away from losing it, Mom."
"Hence why I made some cocoa," said my mother as she held up the tray. "Maybe it will calm the kids down."
"Like they need more sugar, Mom," I said plainly.
My mother shrugged and said, "It's worth a try."
I waved my mother away and she headed into the dining room, leaving me to finish mopping up the cranberry sauce. Once the floor was cleaned to my satisfaction, I carried the mop into the kitchen and over to the sink where I proceeded to wring it under running water. Rather than put it away once I was finished, I leaned it against the wall in a corner. Something told me that mop was going to see more action tonight, so why put it away now?
Johnny popped into the kitchen with two half-eaten plates of food as I was drying my hands on a dishcloth and asked, "What's up, sis?"
"My anxiety levels," I grumbled, running my claws through my wavy tresses in exasperation. "How's the mood in the dining room?"
"Tense," Johnny replied. "Not even Mom's cheerful attempts at conversation are helping much."
"Great," I sighed as I gratefully accepted my plate from Johnny. "How much longer until we can fake being tired and call it a night?"
"Probably after we open presents," said Johnny before gnawing on a turkey leg.
"And that's assuming nothing happens to the tree in the next ten minutes," I muttered, picking up my fork.
"Ten minutes is generous," Johnny noted with a full mouth.
"Tis the season for giving," I reminded him, "so I give it ten minutes before I have to clean up yet another mess."
Johnny opened his mouth to say something when the sound of another dish shattering caused me to grip my own in anger. This was followed by the sound of two voices – the shrill one belonging to Aunt Alyse and the deep one of Uncle Tim – colliding in an argument that nearly rattled the house.
"What the fangs?" I cried in outrage.
"Wow, for once, you were actually wrong about something," Johnny quipped before leaving the kitchen to go see what was going on.
The phone nearby that started to ring only aggravated me more. I stormed over to it, swiped it off the receiver in a fury, and barked, "Worthington residence."
"Bad time to call, amor?"
"No, World War Two was a bad time, Jav," I growled, glaring in the direction of the dining room. "This is freaking hell."
"What's going on?"
"Oh, I wish I had the patience to tell you, but that went out the door with my sanity and my relatives will soon follow," I snarled, the sound of the escalating argument in the dining room causing my blood to boil.
"In that case, I'll let you go then. I just wanted to call and say – "
"Hey, sis, where do we keep the broom and dustpan?" Johnny asked breathlessly, his head popping back into the kitchen.
"Under the sink," I answered, watching Johnny cross the kitchen to fetch what he was looking for. I slapped a hand over my face in anguish. "Goblin help me."
"Do you need me to come over?"
Another heartbreaking sound of more china breaking sent Johnny rushing out of the kitchen again with the broom and dustpan. Whatever was going on in the living room was definitely not going to make for a pretty sight, but I needed to know what was going on.
"I have to go," I said quickly before slamming the phone back onto the receiver and hurrying after Johnny. The clashing voices of Aunt Alyse and Uncle Tim boomed throughout the entire house and I wouldn't be surprised if some of our neighbours could hear it. I can see the headlines of the notorious Monstropolis Enquirer now…
Wrangle Wrecks Worthington Clawsmas Celebrations: Family at War?
The sight that greeted me upon arriving in the living room momentarily left me at a loss for words. Festive garlands that I had taken the time to meticulously hang around the room had been torn down. Broken pieces of china and remnants of food, including the splattered remains of one of my handmade tourtières, surrounded toppled chairs and spilled beverages. In the middle of it all were none other than Aunt Alyse and Uncle Tim, who were growling viciously at each other and scrambling to break free from the clutches of their respective spouses. My father, bravely standing between his brother and sister-in-law, was yelling at them to cut it out. The rest of my relatives leaned against the walls, watching the squabble in horror at a safe distance.
I spotted Johnny in the chaos who had his large arms wrapped around some of our younger cousins. Seeing their little petrified faces partially buried in his fur jumpstarted the nurturing part within me and I craned my neck to meet his eyes. Once they met, I nodded at the children around him and jabbed a thumb out of the room. Johnny nodded and began ushering our cousins towards me. Their precious eyes shouldn't have to witness something so violent coming from the very people who they should view as safe to turn to.
"Danica," my cousin Kayla croaked tearfully, a sound that broke my beating heart.
"It's okay, honey," I assured her in a calming manner. Plastering on the most convincing smile I could muster, I said, "Come on, let's go see what we can find in the game room."
My cousins, nor Johnny and I, said a word until we were all in the game room in the basement. It was the only soundproof room in the house, which would shield the children from the chaos happening one floor above. The walls were lined with mahogany shelves of board games and card games. A brown leather sofa, armchair, and loveseat were positioned perfectly in front of a large-screen television below which a shelf of video game consoles and controls sat.
While Johnny helped set up a video game for some of our cousins, I helped the others reach any board games that were stored on a high shelf. Before long, the dozen of them were engrossed in dice-rolling and car-racing, all worries and fears about the fighting upstairs apparently forgotten for the time being.
"Thanks for the help," I whispered when I was sure the little ones were occupied.
"Don't mention it," said Johnny, leaning against a wall. He pinched the spot between his eyes and grumbled, "Some party this turned out to be."
"I'm just glad the kids aren't asking questions," I said, exhaling loudly. "I don't want to be the one to explain why Aunt Alyse and Uncle Tim is acting more childish than they are."
"There's not much that we can do about Uncle Tim since he's blood," said Johnny. "Aunt Alyse on the other hand…why can't we pick who marries into our family again?"
"Technically, we can," I pointed out. "Some of us just have better taste than others."
"Hey, I'd gladly take Javier as my brother-in-law over that fruitcake as an aunt," Johnny admitted.
"In that case, talk to Mom," I told him wearily. "I think she already secretly planned our wedding."
Johnny chuckled. "Does Dad know?"
"Considering Javier is still alive, I would say no," I answered, watching Kayla cheer from the table on which she was playing a board game with her sister. I could feel the adrenaline wearing out and how exhausted I was from the night's events. The pressure behind my eyes was a cause for some much needed crying after the house emptied of my crazy relatives. I was desperately hoping that said moment would come sooner rather than later.
Fortunately, I only had to fake a smile and chipper attitude for about twenty minutes when a call from our mother via the house's intercom system asked Johnny and me to bring the children upstairs. I knew from her tone of voice that the mood was shot and that everyone was calling it a night. Part of me was relieved that everyone was leaving, but another part of me was annoyed that a holiday that was supposed to be merry and bright ended up being hostile and dark.
Once the games were returned to their proper places, I helped Johnny escort the children upstairs where they accepted their presents from my parents and left with their respective families and the half-eaten potluck dishes that they brought. To minimize any chances of conflict escalating outside the house, Johnny and our father made sure that Aunt Alyse's family was out of the driveway before bidding farewell to Uncle Tim's. What happened between the two families beyond the borders of our property was not going to be any of our concerns.
Due to the dramatic events of the evening, the four of us agreed that the mess in the living room would still be there in the morning and decided to retire for the night. My father and Johnny grumbled their goodnights and ascended the master staircase. My mother kissed my cheek, thanked me for all that I did tonight, and also went upstairs. Two doors closing one after the other sounded, leaving me alone in the foyer and it was only then that I willingly dropped the façade that had been plastered to my face for most of the night.
After shooting the trashed living room a scowl, I barged upstairs into my dark room: a vast space with a canopy bed, a handcrafted vanity, a spacious walk-in closet, a mahogany desk with extensive work space, and a set of French doors leading out to a balcony overlooking my family's estate. The minute the door slammed behind me, I leaned against it and blew out a breath. For the first time that evening, I could hear myself think and all I could think about what how frustrated I was feeling. Tears spilled down my cheeks, which I didn't bother wiping.
Oh well, it's not like anyone can see me anyway.
The sound of a door rattling caused me to look up towards the balcony. Through the moonlight shining through the panes of glass, I could make out the silhouette of a familiar monster standing outside with his hands and face pressed against the doors. How he scaled the walls of my family's house in a knitted red sweater and a black blazer is beyond me, but that was the least of my questions at the moment.
Shaking my head in disbelief, I strode forward to unlock the balcony doors and flung them open. "Goblin, Jav, what the hell are you doing here? This is a gated community."
Javier shut the doors once he was in my room and frowned when he got a closer look at me. "Were you just crying?"
I sniffled and turned back in the direction of the bathroom adjacent to my room. "This isn't a good time."
A hand shot out to wrap around my wrist and Javier said, "Something's bothering you, amor."
"I'm fine," I insisted, although my feeble attempt at shrugging it off betrayed what I was actually feeling.
"No, you're not," said Javier, his tone firm yet gentle all at once.
It hit me how well Javier seemed to be able to read my body language, even with the lack of light in the room, and that only started the waterworks again. I kept my back to him to hide my tear-stained cheeks, not wanting him to see the state that I was in. I pressed my free hand over my lips to muffle my sobs, but that only made them sound like I was being strangled.
Javier gave a slight tug of my arm and said, "Come here, amor."
Without saying a word, I simply nodded and let myself be pulled into his embrace. I felt him press my head to his chest and run his claws through my dishevelled tresses. I didn't hug him back. I simply buried my face in his sweater, which began to soak up the tears that continued to fall. In that moment, in his arms in my room, I felt safe and protected from the crazy and judgemental world in which we lived.
When the sobs began to subside, Javier gently pulled me over to the bed and slid onto it. He fumbled around the nightstand until he found the silver cord of my bedside lamp. Giving it a yank bathed the room in a soft glow of light. He then waited patiently for me to join him, scooting over so that he was leaning against the many pillows by the headboard.
I hiccupped as I slid into the spot that he left for me. I felt him slide a pair of arms around me, prompting me to curl into his side and rest my head over his chest. The feeling of being in his embrace was extremely comforting and I could feel myself gradually calming down.
When my sniffles were the only thing breaking the silence in the room, Javier spoke again, "Do you want to talk about it?"
I sighed, "It's a long story."
"Are you in a hurry to go back downstairs?" Javier asked.
"No," I muttered, shuddering at the vivid image of my meat-filled pastry mushed on the dining room floor in my mind.
"Then I'm all ears," said Javier, toying with a strand of my hair.
Snuggling deeper into Javier's embrace, I said, "It started with the World Cup last summer. We Worthingtons are Team Frownce so you can imagined how thrilled we were when they ended up in the finals."
Javier nodded wordlessly, but his eyes on me showed that he was paying attention.
"Anyway, my Uncle Kenneth and Aunt Alyse were hosting a party in celebration of the occasion and invited the entire family over," I recalled, twirling the bracelet on my wrist. "It would be a good excuse to get together and get out of town for a change of scenery, so my parents, Johnny, and I flew up to Clawnada for a week. It was so good to see everyone again. With a family as big as mine, we're all under the same roof during weddings, funerals, and Clawsmas if we're lucky."
The analog clock on the wall across from my bed struck ten, making it the earliest that I ever went to bed on a Clawsmas night. My kooky relatives can be blamed for that.
Heaving a sigh, I continued, "I remember Johnny and I watching the final match against Growlatia in the living room when we suddenly heard screaming in the kitchen. My Uncle Tim and Aunt Alyse were going back and forth."
"About what?" Javier prompted.
"It had to do with something in the past apparently," I answered. "Supposedly, Uncle Tim gently took my cousin's arm to get her attention and discourage her from hitting her brother over a game that she lost, but my ever-so-dramatic Aunt Alyse called it abusive and yelled at him to not discipline a child that wasn't his. Next thing we heard was glass breaking."
"Did she throw something at him?" Javier questioned with wide eyes.
"Several things," I corrected with a grimace. "Thankfully, her aim was as terrible as her cooking."
Javier chuckled lightly.
"Her husband tried to calm her, but there's just no reasoning with someone who is a few doors short of a Scare floor," I explained, eliciting another chuckle from Javier. "After more screaming, she kicked Uncle Tim and his wife out of the house."
"Yikes," Javier muttered.
"Needless to say, the rest of the night was awkward," I told him with another sigh. "Thankfully, our flight home was the very next day, so we had a legit excuse to get out of there. I hoped it would be water under the bridge come Clawsmas, but turns out it was just wishful thinking."
"Wow, sorry you and your family are going through all of this," said Javier, sounding compassionate, a trait unusual for a monster of his fraternity, but one I admired all the same.
I shrugged. "It is what it is. The drama is over. At least until someone gets married, someone croaks, or it's Clawsmas again. Whichever reason for gathering again comes first."
"I guess every family has its issues," said Javier.
"Even yours?" I asked, glancing up at him.
Javier nodded. "Mine can be a bit too nosy at times."
"Really?" I said with an amused smile.
Javier murmured a sound of affirmation. "Turns out word got around about the new lady in my life so dinner was spent answering their questions about her: what her name is, what she studies, how we met, how long we've been seeing each other, and more. I could barely eat anything."
"I would have loved to be there to see how accurate your answers were," I giggled.
Javier laughed. "You would have been welcomed. In fact, they're mad at me because I didn't bring you."
"Did you tell them I had my own family holiday get-together?" I asked.
"I did," Javier confirmed. "You dodged a bullet really because one hour of their questioning would have sent you running."
"I'm a teacher-in-training," I reminded him. "If I can handle an interrogation from your relatives, I can handle a slew of questions from my soon-to-be students."
"If you say so," said Javier with his eyebrows arched. "Anyway, after all that talk about you, I figured I would call you. It would give me an excuse to escape their questions for a while and to see how you were doing. I didn't know it was just as crazy over here until you picked up."
"If you ask me, your family shindig being on the same night as mine was a blessing in disguise because I didn't want you to subject you to my family's craziness this early in our relationship."
"You saying there's a chance that this could be something long-term?" Javier asked, smirking at me.
"Depends on how you feel after an evening under one roof with my Aunt Alyse and Uncle Tim," I answered, giving him a look. He didn't need to know that wedding bells for us were already ringing inside my mother's head.
"Hey, it takes a lot to scare me, amor," said Javier. "If you want me to get lost, you'll have to try harder."
I was about to respond with something witty when a yawn cut into the laugh that had escaped my parted lips.
"Adrenaline wearing off, huh?" Javier asked knowingly.
"Feels like it," I mumbled into his sweater. "I'm sorry that you came all the way out here to listen to my family drama, especially on a night supposed to be spent with family."
"Don't be, I wanted to," Javier told me, giving me a squeeze. "You would never admit it over the phone, but you sounded like you needed someone to lean on. How could I not be there for you?"
Javier was right; I wouldn't have admitted that. My stubbornness wouldn't have allowed it. Thankfully, he was willing to overlook that, read me like an open book, and know exactly what I needed. Tonight, he was my anchor in the middle of a rocky sea and a powerful storm. Not everyone is lucky enough to have that kind of support in their life and I was incredibly grateful.
"Close your eyes, amor," Javier encouraged. "I'll stay here until you fall asleep."
"You don't have to do that," I protested softly, feeling my eyes droop at the tempting idea of some much-needed shuteye.
"Like I said, you'll have to do a lot more than that to get me to leave," said Javier teasingly. "Sleep, amor, I've got you."
Having very little energy left after such a crazy Clawsmas to present some sort of argument, I simply murmured some sound that I hoped would be interpreted as one of agreement. The last thing that I remembered before falling asleep was Javier's claws running repeatedly through my ombre locks, something that I found most soothing.
When I woke up at around midnight to use the bathroom, I noticed that my blanket was wrapped around me like a soft cocoon and Javier was already gone.