Chapitre 8: CLAUDE, Five days before THE day
Finally, it's Thanksgiving. The Coleman mansion is a haven of overflowing food and turkeys and wine every Thanksgiving. We put more on Christmas Day and New Year's, but Thanksgiving is kind of sacred for our family. It is the only night of the year where everyone, literally everyone in the Coleman dynasty comes together to celebrate. The Colemans are scattered everywhere in the US. We have relatives in California, New York, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, and many other states and they all travel by air for hours just to be here. We are the most famous, if not the richest, group in the whole family tree, so everyone chooses to participate in our "Giving Thanks" program every year for publicity. We hold the largest donation drive in whatever form every Thanksgiving, and every single Coleman wants to be part of it to promote their businesses, new films, or other own endeavors in media. We mostly do it for publicity too, and because my parents don't know where else to put their money.
I, on the other hand, love seeing poor people come to our party. I don't mean it in a rude way. I just love watching them be ordinary and it makes me have a close look at reality. I don't see much of it from here. I guess that's one of the perks of being rich, not seeing the problems of the world because you're too blinded by the light of golden chandeliers and you're too high up on your rooftop.
I was in my room fixing my hair. I told you before that I didn't like make-up, but I always try to put them on my own face. I seemed to have succeeded this time, because I didn't look like a clown. I tied my brown hair up in a bun, with my bangs down to cover my forehead down to the tip of my eyes. I've always loved this look on me, even though my mother always says I look like a nerd professor without glasses.
I stood over the carpeted staircase in my peach satin dress. I preferred plain this year because I wanted to impose the idea that Thanksgiving isn't about the expensive dresses, but who cares about what I think anyway. I just wanted to play this as lowkey as possible.
Our relatives from all over the States started to come, family by family. I just stood there at the staircase for a while, holding a glass of white champagne. Kidding, it was just apple juice in a champagne glass.
After about 20 minutes of waiting, Ken finally came. He was dressed in smart casual long sleeves, and even from afar I immediately spotted the Rolex I gave him last Christmas. I smiled promptly as soon as I saw him, and even though he didn't see me yet, I knew I wasn't alone anymore. But then some arm was holding him when he entered. It was of some girl who didn't even look like a celebrity or a famous personality. Ken doesn't deserve a girl less than that.
My smile slowly faded as they walked inside the reception. She was pretty, her hair was iron-straight and blonder than my mom's, she was almost as tall as my gay brother. She might be a model that I haven't heard of.
Ken looked upstairs and was surprised to see me already watching him. I immediately brought my smile back and showed him my champagne glass. He pointed at the large dining room and I just nodded at him, motioning him to go without me. He and his little girlfriend didn't even ask me for a second time and headed directly to the dining area.
I didn't know how to feel. All along I thought Ken left because of me. Because I couldn't handle my own life so he's teaching me a lesson. Little did I know, he did that for himself. So he and his little model girlfriend can have their "privacy". I felt all alone again in a sudden.
I finished my apple juice and went downstairs. I usually don't use this red carpeted staircase for two reasons: one, because I never liked the spotlight and it also seems to never like me, but going down in this ball-like stairs makes me feel like cameras are everywhere; and two, because I'm afraid of heights and the tiny steps make me feel nauseous.
As I reached the hallway to the dining room, I could already smell the scrumptious food awaiting me, the arrogant glares of my relatives, and the constant embarrassment and disappointment I'd give my mother, knowing all my other cousins were successful on their own chosen fields. It took me long enough to reach the long table, because I had to try backing out several times first.
"There's my girl," my dad said happily. My dad has been good to me growing up, and he still is. He isn't like my mother who constantly gives me a "constructive criticism" which I swear wasn't constructive. He used to read me stories when I was a kid and he has always been the softie in our family. I wanted to say that he might be the only one who's actually proud of me, but I guess I couldn't even say that about Ken. If I were them, I wouldn't be proud of me either. But all my happy memories with my dad just ended up as memories when he quit acting and moved to film production. He really focused on producing huge blockbusters and he started spending less and less time with me, until he never does anymore. But perhaps that's the sacrifice anyone would be willing to make in the name of money.
All my relatives were already there but not all were sitting down. Some were still roaming around the kitchen, some were chit chatting and catching up with the others, some were just staring at space blankly. So no one really noticed me come in and I'm really happy that I didn't cause a "Where have you been?" scene with my mother.
My father motioned me to sit down next to him and Ken. Beside Ken was his model girlfriend, which now that I'm having a good look, actually looks like a Barbie. I'd be happy to call them Barbie doll and Ken doll when I finally got over the fact that he lied to me about leaving. I just smiled at him as I sat down and interacted as less as possible. But he didn't seem to notice that I'm having a bad day though, because he was busy talking to his doll that looks like Paris Hilton.
Sitting beside my father was my mom, then the other two brothers, then the family from Tennessee, and so on. It was a really long table so everyone fitted in. Everyone wore their best dresses and I can bet you it wasn't really because of the occasion but by the fact that they were meeting other Colemans. Bearing the name really makes a person feel like it is a marathon, or a competition of some sort.
Every space was filled by plates of food, both traditional and modern. Each of the families also brought their own share enough for everyone to feast on. I could eat whatever I want and how much I want (except those my mom doesn't approve) but Thanksgiving is always an overflow. And I didn't exaggerate when I said there was a plethora of Turkeys.
One Coleman family was a key player in their game at their winery business and they brought tons of different types of wine bottles. We shared meals and laughed together and complimented the food at our dinner table while a surge of poor and homeless people ate their best food yet outside the mansion with our servants.
It seemed so perfect for a while, but I knew in a moment, everything will drastically go down. And seeing the arrogant smiles of these people, I already knew I'd be the talk of the night. Because that's how success in our family works. If you're one step ahead of a Coleman, then you're considered successful, and the person who had the least achievement will be the only loser.
"So Ken, we didn't know you had a girlfriend." My mom started the "conversation" about family topics which I really never understood about Thanksgivings and Christmases and New Years. She sounded polite and respectful, which I honestly wished she'd do to me too. Ken wrapped his arms around Barbie and smiled at everyone.
"Yes, this is Samantha," he announced. "We met at a club one night. The rest is history."
My cousins cheered loudly and everyone was either surprised or teary. Those were quite acceptable reactions because my brother never really brought a girl other than me to any party. She's so lucky.
"Wait, there's more. She was actually the bartender at the club". My cousins cheered louder, especially the boys. I saw Barbie smiling shyly too.
"That's amazing. Are you still studying?" That was my father.
"Yes, I'm taking a degree in Neurobiology, and I work part-time for my allowance," Samantha said very, very politely. She seemed so shy and her voice was so thin. Everyone seemed more amazed. Maybe that's what Ken saw in her, she has both beauty and brains.
"Wow, you must be really smart, just like our Ken," one of my teenage cousins said.
They continued chatting about Samantha, how she got into college by applying for scholarships and bartending, why she never tried modelling despite her body, and why she chose Neurobiology. She said she had always wanted to study how the brain works.
Ken quietly turned to me while everyone else was busy with Samantha and asked me if I was okay. I absent-mindedly nodded and he held my hand. I flashed back to reality when I felt his touch, because that was actually the first time that night that he held me. It's only been a week, but he already grew distant, just like my other brothers.
"What I mean is, are you okay with Sam?" he reiterated.
"Uhmm, yeah. Sure. I mean, I didn't expect you to bring a girlfriend but yeah sure," I answered plainly. I sounded uninterested, and that's how exactly I meant it. He might have read in my gesture that I was upset, but he just straightened back on his chair and rejoined the conversation about her Barbie girlfriend. Let me be clear here, I wasn't being jealous for a petty reason, I just felt lied to by the person I trusted the most. Nonetheless, I liked the idea that he has a girlfriend now. I'm just not as thrilled as everyone else because I know this means he'll have less time for me, just like my father.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone