“We are only having your sister’s family this year!” Mom texted. I typed back: “Have a good time.” When I refused to invite them to a grand Thanksgiving party at my house, my father broke my window and grabbed me by the throat, saying, “You think you’re better than us?” My sister had kicked me in the ribs, adding, “Some people just need to remember their place.” But…

their games anymore. My phone rang an hour later. It was my aunt Diane, my father’s older sister.

Rebecca, honey, did you hear about Thanksgiving? Her voice carried that familiar mixture of sympathy and frustration. I did. It’s fine, Aunt Diane. I wasn’t planning on going anyway. Your mother called me to make sure I knew Madison was hosting this year.continue reading …