When Elves Attack Read Online Free Page A

attention.
    Thanksgiving Day.
    Inside, the home was filled with the kind of loving aroma from holiday cooking that makes women think of past family gatherings and makes men want to watch football.
    Jim Davenport opened the oven door with pot holders.
    â€œJim!” whispered Martha. “Your mother’s fluffing the cushions!”
    â€œYou made a great turkey this year.”
    â€œYou’re not listening!”
    â€œI am.” He slid the turkey out. “I just want this to go well.”
    â€œAnd she brought her own stuffing, even though I asked her not to because I had my own recipe. And then she shows up at the door with a bowl and claims she doesn’t remember me saying any such thing. She conveniently forgets all my requests.”
    Jim set the pan on the counter. “Martha—”
    â€œIt’s passive-aggressive.”
    â€œIt’s stuffing.”
    â€œDid you see her stuffing? Hamburger! Who puts meat inside of meat?”
    â€œLet’s go sit down . . .”
    . . . Silence at the dinner table.
    Martha Davenport smiled tensely across the serving platters.
    Rita Davenport smiled back and looked at her plate. “Martha, do you need a new dishwasher?”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œNothing. But remind me to ask you where the bleach is.” Then she shifted her eyes. “Jim? Remember the turkey your grandmother used to make? Nothing could compare to her recipe . . . Oh, and by that, I didn’t mean anything about your turkey, Martha. I’m sure it’s fine. Especially with my stuffing.” She placed her napkin in her lap. “Yessiree, his grandmother was quite the cook . . .”
    Martha practiced breathing exercises.
    â€œJim,” said Rita. “Have you heard anything from Tommy Kilborne?”
    â€œNo, Ma.”
    â€œI heard his wife invited his mother to move in with them. Isn’t that nice? I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. I worry that nobody will be there. I was trapped in my bathtub the other day.”
    â€œWhat!” said Jim. “For how long?”
    â€œJust a few seconds this time, but soon, who knows?”
    Martha clutched her napkin tightly under the table.
    Jim glanced anxiously at both of them. “Ha ha, don’t want the food to get cold.”
    Rita scooted her chair closer to the table. “I always liked Tommy’s wife. So generous. Some women could have a problem with their mother-in-law moving in, even if it means leaving them to rot. I have spastic colon.” She bowed her head. “Jim, why don’t you say grace?”
    â€œI’d much rather hear you give the blessing,” said Jim. “It’s practically tradition.”
    â€œNo, I insist.”
    â€œMom, I’m not sure I even remember.”
    â€œHow can you forget grace if you say it every night?”
    â€œYou know I converted years ago.”
    She briefly waved a hand. “I don’t believe that. You know, it’s not too late to have the children baptized.”
    â€œMom,” said Jim. “Melvin’s in college, and Debbie’s married.”
    â€œWhat about Nicole. She’s still in high school.” Rita looked in another direction at a young girl seated at the table, dressed entirely in black with heavy black eye makeup. “Nicole, why are you giggling?”
    â€œNothing, Grandma.” She turned and smiled in her mother’s direction.
    â€œNicole,” said Rita Davenport. “Why don’t you say grace?”
    Martha’s eyes shot daggers when she saw the grin on her daughter’s face: Don’t you dare!
    Nicole looked back at her grandmother. “I can’t say grace.”
    â€œWhy not, young lady?”
    â€œBecause I don’t believe in God.”
    â€œAhhhh!” Rita clapped her hands over her ears.
    Martha involuntarily shrieked.
    Jim lowered his head and sighed.
    Nicole cracked up.
    Rita Davenport