Desired

"What possessed you to do this? Honestly your hair was so beautiful, why did you cut it?"

My mother questions for the ninth time today, scrunching up her face and lightly touching my now very short, choppy hair.
I sigh, continuing to lay out plates for thanksgiving dinner onto the dining room table, which is decorated with a red table cloth, white candles, and scattered orange rose petals.

"Mom, please, I don't want to talk about it"
I mutter, setting the last plate down and hurrying back to the kitchen as the oven timer goes off.

Grabbing a pot holder, I open the oven door and pull out the pecan pie that rests, piping hot, on the rack.
I set it down on another pot holder on the counter to cool, and hurriedly change the temperature on the oven, closing the door before anymore heat escapes.

"Just tell me why Ruby, that's all I'm asking for, an explanation"
She follows me into the kitchen, walking over to the stove, checking on the gravy and mash potatoes that are cooking there.

"Because I felt like I needed a change, there, now stop bringing it up"
I say through gritted teeth, violently shoving some ritz crackers into a zip lock bag, then roughly taking a rolling pin to them.

"Well if you wanted a hair cut, all you had to do was ask, I would have taken you to a nice hair dresser to get it professionally done. You didn't need to just hack at it with a pair of craft scissors"
She continues, going to the second stove and peeking in at the large bird inside.

The other oven beeps three times quickly, signally it's up to set temperature. I quickly sprinkle the ritz cracker crumbs across the the cheese and broccoli casserole, picking it up and I place it in the oven, slamming the door shut and setting the timer.

"And the night before thanksgiving, now all of the family is going to see you like this, what are they going to thi-" She is cut off abruptly by a knocking at the front door.
She jogs out of the kitchen to answer it. I lean down, resting my head on my forearms that lay folded on the counter.

The sound of my grandmother's rich, throaty laugh and her dachshunds happy barking carries through the house.
Propping my elbows up, face resting in my palms, I try to prepare myself for the inevitable judging and age-old opinions she will unleash upon me.

Hearing the quick clicking of nails on title, I look for the little furry sausage I know is coming my way.
He trots up to my feet, wagging happily at the sight of me.
"Hello Gomez"
I murmur, pick him up and cradling him carefully in my arms.
"What do you think of my haircut?"

He licks my cheek.
"Well it's nice someone finally shares my opinion, will you be my little buddy for thanksgiving?"
He relaxes into my arms, laying his head against my chest.

I smile, bending my head down and lifting him slightly, kissing his head.
"Good"

*X*

"Sweetie aren't you gonna have some of my special casserole?"
Grandmother says, taking a sip of her wine.

I look warily at the glass baking pan filled with the mushy sweet potatoes, topped with lightly browned marshmallows.
I hate sweet potatoes.

"I think I have enough on my plate"
I reply quietly, consuming a forkful of the slightly tart, dark purple gelatin, better known as canned cranberry sauce.

"Suit yourself"
She mutters, miffed.

"Pass the gravy, please"
Comes the soft voice of my young aunt Alice, who sits next to me.

I grab the warm, ceramic dish and pass it over to her.
She smiles, the dimples on her cheeks showing.
"Thanks"

"Ruby, you had such beautiful hair, why did you cut it? I mean, if I had hair like you did, I wouldn't dare touch it with scissors"
My aunt Amethyst comments impudently, looking at me from over the rim of her glasses as she slices her turkey breast.
Since when exactly did my hair become so damn important?

"Yes, Ruby, why did you cut it?"
Chimes in my ever vexing cousin, Susie, smirking.
She purposely twirled a piece of her glowing copper locks that fall to her waist.

I just shrug, taking a drink of my blackberry wine, not in the mood for talking.
That's the one good thing about this holiday, my family lets all kids 16 and up have a glass of wine, of course when no is looking, I will be stealing a bottle for later.

"Oh leave her alone, she's a teenager, she'll do things like this, I know I did one or two things in my days that were a little rash"
Cuts in uncle Jim, sending me an all-too-obvious teasing wink with a smile.

I force a smile back, looking down at my plate.

"I like your hair cut"
Says aunt Alice gently, quietly.
"I think it makes you look very nice"

"Thank you"
I whisper back, not looking at her.

*X*

I lay on bed, ipod buds in, blasting the music of the Monkees.

"You've been awful careful about the friends you choose, but you won't find my name in your book of who's-who's! I-I-I-I-I'm not your stepping stone!"

Gomez lays next to me, head resting on my hip.
His presence is comforting for some reason.

I shift and something under me crinkles.
I arch my back, my hand groping the sheets for whatever it is.

My finger tips finally run across something that isn't fabric.
I grab it and bring it up to my face.

'Asher 175-857'
I sigh, biting my lip.

A party might do me good, it'll be nice to scope the guys, maybe I'll find a cute one...

I reach over and pick my phone off the nightstand, opening a new text message.

Where and when is the party? I'll be there-Ruby

Tossing it to one side after it sends, I stroke Gomez gently, rubbing his ears.
"Well Gomez, lets hope it goes well"

He licks my hand.