Britches Get Stitches Read online

  “Shh.” He put a finger over his lips. “I’m afraid you’ll jinx it.”

  I laughed. “Is Mom responsible for how good this place smells?”

  “Yes, and you better make a big deal out of it. She’s really proud of herself.”

  “OK.”

  “Where’s Garrett?”

  No sooner had the words left my mouth, did the door open behind me. My brother and the girls walked in.

  “Bodhi!” Hope squealed, charging after the dog. He barked and ran toward the living room, invoking a game of chase.

  “No running in the house!” Garret called as he unwound the green-and-blue scarf around his neck. He gave me a side hug with the arm that wasn’t carrying a load of beer, his contribution to our holiday meal. “Happy Thanksgiving, sis.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving to you.” When I released him, I grabbed Gabby. “Come here, you.” I rested my chin on her head, which was getting harder and harder to do.

  Hope had finally caught Bodhi around the neck. He was panting with his tongue hanging sideways out of his mouth. “Come on, Bodhi,” she said, pulling him back to the foyer.

  “Hope, let the dog go,” Garrett said, taking off his dark gray wool coat.

  With a huff, she released him. Bodhi crouched like he was going to pounce and barked. She screamed again and took off running.

  “Knock it off!” my brother bellowed.

  Mom came into the foyer, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “What on earth is happening in here?”

  “Hi, Mom. Happy Thanksgiving,” I said, giving her a hug.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Grace. It sounds like you brought a herd of elephants with you.” She stretched up to kiss my brother’s cheek. “Hello, son.”

  “I brought the herd.” He held up the beer. “I also brought the booze.”

  “Garrett, I asked you to bring dessert.”

  He held up the beer again. “It’s a high-octane chocolate stout, Mom.”

  My mother’s face soured. “That sounds disgusting.”

  “He’s full of it, Granna.” Gabby held up a plastic bag. “We brought cake too. One of Dad’s lady friends baked it.”

  “Great. Bring it to the kitchen,” Mom said.

  I grinned at my brother as we walked. “Lady friend, huh?”

  “He has lots of them,” Gabby said over her shoulder with an eyeroll.

  “Not true,” he argued.

  Gabby stopped walking and looked up at me. “We have two casseroles in our fridge, Aunt Grace.” She held up two fingers. “Two. And the cake.”

  “From different ladies?” Dad asked.

  “Not anyone I’m seeing, Dad. Gabby’s being dramatic. ”

  “We call them ‘prospects’ at home,” she continued. “There’s a list.”

  Garrett opened his mouth, probably for a rebuttal, but he laughed instead. “Shut up, Gabby.”

  She giggled.

  Dad put my stuff on the kitchen table and opened the newspaper I’d brought.

  “See if you can find my article in there,” I said, thumping the back of the paper with my finger. “It should be in the Life and Style section.”

  He started flipping pages.

  Garrett carried his beer to the refrigerator and pulled one out for himself. “Grace, you want a beer?”

  “Is it really a chocolate stout?” I asked with a frown.

  “No, it’s our new winter ale.”

  I thought of Jason’s eyes. “Sure. I’ll try one.”

  “Dad?”

  “No thanks. I’m saving all my room for that bird,” he said, nodding toward the oven.

  “It does smell great in here, Mom,” I said.

  She was almost giddy. “It does, doesn’t it?”

  Hope and Bodhi ran past us into the kitchen. Then she whirled around, slinging her hair across her face. “Aunt Grathe, think you can introduth uth to Medutha at the parade?”

  I brushed the hair out of her eyes. “I think that can be arranged.”

  She held both hands over her head. “Yeth!”

  When she was gone, I caught Garrett’s eye. “Have you thought about junior derby?” I mouthed so the girls wouldn’t hear me.

  He frowned.

  Then so did I.

  “Oh, here it is,” Dad said, straightening in his chair. “They put a nice picture in here.”

  I leaned over to look. It was a photo of me (looking tired) and Kiara (looking perky) standing by the window.

  Dad began to read the article out loud.

  The holiday shopping season is upon us, and eager Nashville consumers heading to Hillsboro Village will have a sweet treat waiting for them. Sparkled Pink, a children’s couture boutique on Twenty-First Avenue, is already drawing crowds each day thanks to a senior fashion-design student from MacKay University.

  Kiara Washington approached her internship sponsor several weeks ago with a clever idea: to decorate the store’s front display window like those she’d studied in class. Local designer and owner of the store, Grace Evans, was happy to oblige.

  “I thought it was a brilliant idea,” Evans said in an interview on Wednesday. “Kiara is a wonderful designer, and now she’s proven herself to be a genius businesswoman as well. I’m lucky to have her.”

  “Most of my classes at MacKay are focused on textbook learning and displays built inside the classroom,” Washington told us. “I was very thankful that Ms. Evans and my professors in the fashion-studies department agreed for me to implement what I’ve learned in the real world.”

  Fashion-Studies Department Chair Imogen Sleight agreed. “In our program, there is a lot of discussion about the importance of getting our students out of the classroom and into the field. We hope that next year we’ll be able to partner with more local businesses to make this exercise available to all our students in the program.”

  Professor Sleight also tells us that MacKay University is considering hosting a city-wide competition next year, where students can design window displays and win scholarship money through participating businesses.

  Sparkled Pink is located at 1777 Twenty-First Avenue South in Nashville. This Black Friday, doors open at eight a.m. All in-stock merchandise will be 10–20 percent off, and the first twenty customers in the door will receive a thirty-dollar credit on any design-your-own couture gown.

  My brother clapped when my father finished reading the article. Mom had stopped cooking. Even my nieces were listening intently. “Congratulations, Grace,” Dad said, laying the paper on the table and putting his arm around me.

  Still smiling from ear to ear, I shook my head. “Don’t congratulate me. I didn’t do any of this. It was all Kiara.”

  “That’s an excellent article.” Mom pointed a spoon at me from the stove. “I’ve said so before and I’ll say it again: you’re lucky to have that girl.”

  I nodded. “I am well-aware.”

  “She’s lucky to have you too, Gracie,” Garrett said. “Did that say she’s an intern?”

  “Yep.”

  “Do you pay her?”

  “For the extra work she does on top of her internship hours.”

  Garrett drummed his fingers on the wooden tabletop. “I need to get me some interns.”

  I pulled out my phone and brought up a new text message to Kiara. Just read the article! It’s great. You’re already a star! Happy Thanksgiving. I’m so thankful for YOU.

  She responded almost immediately in all caps. THANK YOU!!! Happy Thanksgiving.

  “Do you have enough people to work?” Mom asked.

  “Just me and Kiara. I doubt we’ll need more than that. We never really have a huge rush.”

  “You’ve also never been in the paper before,” Dad said.

  “That’s true,” Garrett agreed.

  “Well, I don’t have the budget to bring in anyone else, so I guess we’ll have to wing it.” I got up and walked around the counter to Mom. “What can I do to help in here?”

  “Want to drain the potatoes?”

&nbs
p; “Sure.”

  Mom was chopping lettuce on the cutting board. “If it looks like you’re going to need more hands tomorrow, call me. I can come by for a few hours.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Hey, Granna, want me and Dad to set the table?” Gabby asked.

  Mom smiled. “That would be wonderful, Gabby. Thank you.”

  “Gabrielle!” Garrett raised both hands. “Haven’t I taught you better than that, child? We don’t offer to help. We definitely don’t offer me to help.”

  She marched around his side of the table and grabbed his hand. “Come on, Dad.”

  Garrett went limp leaning back in his chair. “I don’t want to. You can’t make me.”

  She pulled and pulled on his arm. “Dad!”

  I put the pot of potatoes down and tiptoed around behind her. “You gotta get him right here, Gabs.” With my index finger, I jabbed my brother in the armpit. Hard.

  With a loud yelp, he jumped out of his chair and lunged at me, laughing. He grabbed me, linebacker style, around the thighs and threw me over his shoulder. “You wanna fight, little sister?”

  Mom was screaming as he spun me around in the air. “You’re going to break everything! Get out of my house right now! Graham, help!”

  Dad was laughing. Or at least I thought he was laughing. I was hanging upside down, looking at my brother’s back. I pounded my fists against his side. “Put me down!”

  Bodhi was barking and hopping around us.

  Hope was attacking Garrett from the front. “Put her down, Dad!”

  Garrett finally bent and settled my feet back on the floor.

  “You’re such an asshole,” I said, laughing and panting and straightening my shirt.

  He pointed at me. “You know better than to poke me. I hate that shit.”

  “Language!” my mother shouted.

  He reached for Gabby’s hand. “Come on, we’d better set the table before Granna decides to not let us eat.”

  Linner was finally on the table at a quarter past two. I was starving. And everything Mom had prepared looked…well, amazing.

  The rolls weren’t burned on the bottom.

  The mashed potatoes were fluffy and smooth.

  The turkey was a flawless golden brown.

  Everything was so perfect that I secretly poked around in the trash looking for carry-out containers. There were none.

  We all gathered in the dining room and held hands around the table. One by one, around the circle, we all said one thing we were thankful for. When it was my turn, I closed my eyes and thought about all the good things I had.

  A family that loved me.

  Good friends that pushed me to be better.

  My dog lying at my feet.

  I smiled. “I’m thankful for new beginnings, with the very best people at my side.”

  Nine

  The stomach cramps started around midnight.

  I rolled over, pulled my knees into my chest, and prayed they’d go away. They didn’t. An hour later, in the bathroom, I was gripping the toilet-paper roll and praying another prayer—to die quickly.

  The vomiting started a half an hour after that. I’ll spare the details, but a trash can was involved because the toilet was otherwise occupied. At some point I woke up on the bathroom tiles in the fetal position. Bodhi was licking my face.

  My phone chirped on my nightstand sometime around four in the morning. I crawled to get it. It was a text from my brother.

  Garrett: I think something was wrong with the turkey.

  Me: OMG. I want to die.

  Garrett: Gabby’s been in the bathroom for the past two hours, and Hope threw up in my bed.

  I wanted to offer my help, but seeing as I was texting him from the floor by my bed, there wasn’t any use.

  My phone rang sometime later. I didn’t even look at the screen.

  “Grace?” It was Mom. She sounded as shitty as I felt.

  “Hi.”

  “Are you OK?”

  “I have a pulse.”

  She groaned. “I’m so sorry, Gracie.”

  “Are you and Dad OK?”

  “We’re both sick too. And I just talked to Garrett. He and the girls…” Her voice broke. “I think it was the turkey.”

  She sounded like she was starting to cry on the other end of the line. Or maybe she was holding back more vomit.

  Just in case, I tried to console her. “It was an accident, Mom.” I wanted to add that we didn’t think she’d tried to kill us all on purpose, but I figured that wouldn’t help.

  “I need to go help your father. Call me later and let me know how you’re doing,” she said.

  “I will.”

  “I’m so sorry, honey.”

  “I know. I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  We hung up just as my stomach began to gurgle again.

  I was awake when the alarm on my phone went off at six. When I turned it off, I dropped it on my mattress, too weak to return it to the nightstand.

  Oh god. I had to open the store in two hours. I pushed myself up to sitting and all the blood drained from my head. My vision swirled and stars twinkled at the edges of my vision.

  I flopped back down. Bodhi rested his head on my chest. Too bad I hadn’t trained him like one of those St. Bernard rescue dogs. I could’ve really used a barrel around his neck containing some kind of fluids. My mouth felt like it was covered in sandpaper.

  My phone dinged again. It was a text, this time from Jason. On my way home to check on Mom. Be there soon.

  Me: Major case of food poisoning over here. Not sure if I’ll be able to work after all.

  Jason: Are you serious? Do you need to go to the hospital?

  That was a fair question.

  Me: I feel like I need to go to the morgue.

  The phone rang. I tapped the speakerphone button, unwilling to hold the phone to my ear. “Hello?” I sounded like a ninety-year-old man with a three-pack-a-day habit.

  “It’s Jason.”

  “Hi.”

  “Should I turn on the siren and head your way?”

  “Do you carry body bags?”

  “No.”

  “Then you can’t help me.”

  “You’re worrying me, Grace.”

  I draped my arm over my eyes. “I’m really sick, but I’m fine. You can go home.”

  “I’ll hurry.”

  “I really don’t think there’s any way I’ll be able to work today. There’s no sense in you coming.”

  “You’re not going to be able to take him down those stairs and outside if you’re too sick to open the store. I’m coming. Don’t even try to argue with me.”

  I groaned. I really didn’t want him to see me like this. “Jason, I—”

  “I said don’t argue. I’ll be there soon. Tell Bodhi to cross his legs.”

  My cracked lips pulled as I smiled. Then my stomach wobbled again. “I gotta go.” I barely hit the end-call button before the dry heaves began again over my bedside trashcan.

  When I was done, I texted Kiara. I’m almost dead with horrific food poisoning. Don’t think I can open today.

  She didn’t answer.

  I texted Monica next. I need advice from a doctor. When should one go to the emergency room with food poisoning?

  My phone rang again. I hit the speaker button to answer. “Hello?”

  “Grace?” Monica asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good lord, you sound terrible.”

  “I feel worse.”

  “I’m not that kind of doctor, Grace.”

  “I know, but you are a mom. What do you know about puking and dehydration?”

  “How’d you get food pois—” She stopped herself. “Oh, your mom. Was it the turkey?”

  “Does it matter? What do I do?”

  “Can you keep anything down?”

  “No.”

  “Try to get some ice chips to suck on at least. Do you need me to come over?”

  “No. Jas
on’s on his way soon.”

  “Really?” Her voice was full of hope and intrigue.

  “Not now,” I warned.

  “Maybe you should call Doc Carnage.”

  “I don’t have her number. Besides, I don’t want to wake her up.”

  “She might already be up. It is Black Friday…Oh Grace. It’s Black Friday. What are you going to do?”

  “Not make any money, I’m sure.” And probably lose my store, I added silently.

  “I saw your article in the paper yesterday. I’m sure a lot of other people did too. Want me to come in and help out?”

  “Thanks, but Kiara will be here.”

  “OK, but if she needs help, call me. Try to stay hydrated. I’ll check on you in a little bit.”

  “Thanks, Mon.”

  I tried to sit up again. Getting vertical was a challenge, like my head weighed a thousand pounds and my spine was made of gelatin. When I was finally able to drop my feet off the side of the bed, I had to stop and rest. It took a moment for the dizziness to clear so that I felt safe enough to stand. Then I pushed myself up slowly, bracing against the side of the bed in case my legs buckled underneath me.

  After a moment of testing my leg muscles, I zombie-walked to the kitchen. Bodhi stayed beside me all the way. I pulled a cup from the cabinet and put it under the crushed-ice dispenser in the refrigerator door. The sound blistered my eardrums, but I snagged a jagged piece of ice and put it on my withered tongue.

  The buzzer for my front door sounded through the apartment. I walked over and pressed the intercom button. “Hello?”

  “Grace, it’s Kiara. I’m going to need you to let me in.” Something in her voice sounded off. Worried? Excited, maybe?

  I pushed the button to release the lock, and a second later, I heard the echo of her footfalls as she ran up the stairs. I opened the front door.

  Her eyes were the size of goose eggs, but her head snapped back with alarm. She put her hand to her chest. “Oh my stars!”

  “I look that good, huh?” I stepped back to let her inside but stumbled and bounced off the wall, sloshing ice everywhere.

  She grabbed my arms to steady me as Bodhi lapped the ice shards off the floor. “Grace, do you need to go to the hospital?”