Cool It, Or I'll Go Nuts

Rolling into town for the holidays, distant relatives start hounding me about tying the knot, popping out kids, and pitching in around the house.

The working stiff in me fires back, "Why the rush? Might as well have the Grim Reaper nag you too."

What's this? A wife's gotta be a saint, and a girl needs to be a docile workhorse.

I don't give a damn.

With a few sharp words, I zipped every gossip's lips and pushed them back by miles.

Dropping the pretense, I've been living on cloud nine.

——

"Jessie, can't you see all the ladies busy in the kitchen? Such a blind spot will keep you single forever."

Just as I opened my mouth, Mom subtly squeezed my hand.

Choking back my reply, it's the same circus every Thanksgiving.

Guys loafing around, puffing cigars, guzzling beer, boasting about peanuts, all armchair quarterbacks for national affairs.

While the ladies tirelessly keep the wheels turning in the kitchen, all to preserve the men's pride.

Grandma in the kitchen grumbles, "Marrying off to a woman who can't pop out a boy, my son must've walked under a ladder, stuck with a dud."

Mom reminds me we only come here once a year, no need for drama.

"Just suck it up for Dad's sake, it'll blow over."

As course after course rolled out, I was itching to bolt after dinner.

"You can't sit, Jessie! You and your mom are not allowed at the table."

I whirl around, stunned by Grandma's latest antic.

"You and your mom lack manners—girls are supposed to wait on the men. And your mom, showing her face here without having a son, I'd have run headfirst into a tree if I were her."

Ha, I turned to Dad, to see if he heard this nonsense.

Dad looked trapped, and eventually just lowered his head in silence.

"We only come back once a year, don't stir up Grandma, she's been through a lot too."

That even got Mom down.

Once upon a time, Mom didn't mind Dad being dirt-poor, backed him blindly to kickstart his career, and here we are.

He promised just to come back for a meal and swore no hassle for us.

Hearing her son, Grandma beamed brighter than ever.

"Not to be harsh, Jessie, but why bother with college when you're just gonna be someone else's gal? Might save the dough for a check-up, try for a son, or maybe adopt one."

"Grandma's picked out a good catch for you, right here from our neck of the woods, they've even built a decent house, he's older but older men treat you better, I squared it away yesterday, you two should start dating."

The men around cheered on, pushing me to make a good first impression later.

This is beyond the pale!

"Totally forgot, where do you ancient relics dig yourselves up from? If you're so fond of the guy, why don't you marry him, Grandma? Might not get a son out of you at your age, but you'd sure spoil him rotten."

Grandpa slammed his fork down, and steely-faced ordered Mom to leave, and he needed to straighten me out.

Dad played peacemaker, nudging Mom to make a quick exit, and told me to bow and apologize to Grandpa.

"It's Thanksgiving, meant to be merry, let's not brawl any longer."

Mom snorted, snatched up the soup and overturned it on Dad's head.

Seaweed and eggs dribbled down his hair.

Mom, amid Grandma's screeching and Grandpa's bellowing, flipped the dinner table.

"This barren woman isn't serving you a bunch of overlords anymore. George Bryan, what makes your family think they can set up my daughter? How about cleaning yourself up and getting hitched instead!"

"You better have a solid explanation today, or I'll see you in court, thinking you're some kind of blueblood."

With that, Mom grabbed her bag, dragging me out in a whirl.

I turned back gleefully, taunting them with a mocking, "Na-na-na-na-na."

This holiday had been a complete circus, Dad had been on his knees for two days without Mom's forgiveness.

Meanwhile, the family business hit a snag, with the Taylor Group circling like sharks. Best strategy now? Team up with the Taylors.

I met the famous CEO, proposing a merger through marriage, spelling out the ups and downs crystal clear.

He agreed without hesitation, puzzled, I asked why.

Sure, marrying me wasn't losing out, but it wasn't his top pick either.

"Heard Miss Colder's got a knack for handling the family bigwigs."

Got it, even the best judge can't untangle family knots.

News of my February wedding got out, and Grandma's folks were on edge, drove over in the dead of night to "persuade" me.

Even brought along my cousin from my uncle's side to convince me.

"Jessie, don't shoot the messenger, but stepping into high society ain't a cakewalk, thought you prided yourself on being a strong, independent woman? Got dazzled by some dollars, huh?"

"Hear me out, the guy Grandma found you is a real catch, got a son too, and no pressure to have more kids, talk about a sweet deal."

"If you know it stings, why say it? Just dunked your brain in a manure pit and forgot to scrub? I'm loaded, pretty, and smart, why would I downgrade to Nowheresville for charity? Plus, what's money done wrong, don't curse my cash flow, will you?"

Before she could go on, Dad hustled this nosy relative off to a hotel.

He came back and hit the deck before Mom, vowing our little family always comes first, everything we own is in my name.

Whatever the home drama, contracts are contracts.

Logan Taylor and I made it official, the wedding might have been hasty but didn't skimp on sincerity.

Ingredients for the feast airlifted in, I sneakily nabbed a couple of pastries while I could.

After waving off the guests and collapsing on the couch, Grandma starts up her tirade with her pet granddaughter.

"As a lady, you oughta be polite and hard-working, look at the state of you, no clue what your mom's been teaching."

"You could learn a thing or two from your cousin, give your brother a hand now and then, so if you ever get a rough patch, you've got a brother to back you up. Today's gals are just too touchy, making mountains out of molehills over domestic spats, think divorce is the answer to every tiff, but hey, which couple doesn't bicker?"

I mustered the energy to give a thumbs up, "Match made in heaven, peas in a pod, you two are a sight for sore eyes, really should have a monument erected in your honor."

Mom chided me with a laugh, and Grandma went from ashen to flushed and back.

She snatched up a decor stick and hurled it at Mom, I sprang up from the couch.

Cross me by insulting my pride or touching my Mom, and it's game over!

What in the world was my cousin thinking, blocking me, hollering about giving the old lady a break.

We should cut Grandma some slack at this gathering.

I sent a slap flying her way, "No face saved here, buy one slap, get one free, you in?"

The sharp slap silenced the room, she covered her face in tears, staring at me.

Grandma too stunned to squeak, my new hubby and mother-in-law silently scoped out the scene at the doorway.

"Logan, I just saw stars for a second, quick, get security to clear out these extras, I need to have a word with your mother-in-law."

Then she cozily escorted Mom to another room.

Soon, it was just me and him left, locked in a gaze.

"Miss Colder, you've got some serious skills, hope you can handle my family too, Mom's all I care about."

"No sweat, it's all in a day's work."

Yeah, right, the pocket money Mr. Taylor showered on me could keep me slaving away, not to mention sorting out these little dramas!

Settling into the mansion, I finally got why Mr. Taylor needed me around.

The young maid threw me shade while Mrs. Warner, the housekeeper, tried to smooth things over, telling me she's just green and doesn't know better, and I should let it slide, even dropping that her grandma was Mr. Taylor's grandma's cousin or something.

I laughed it off and sent her to tackle my walk-in closet.

Seriously? As if I'm here to wait on her. Dealing with her is practically in my job description.

She kept her act together for a mere two days. After a quick trip back from college, my closet was suspiciously light on some clothes and bling.

Eyes blazing, she accused me of making stuff up, claiming I didn't treat her like a human, just because I looked down on her social class.

I fired up the closet cam, and there she was, drooling over my jewels, sneaking into my outfits, and — no surprise — splitting the seams because they didn't fit.

"You're just blowing Logan's cash! Grandma wanted me to marry him, you stole my chance, and now you dare argue over a few outfits?"

Before I could snap back, the girl stormed out, crushed.

Her drama was quite the performance; even Mr. Taylor's oddball relatives weren't this much trouble.

I had Mrs. Warner on standby with some aspirin, knowing the real drama with the old ladies was about to kick off.

Barely two hours later, Logan's mom, Nancy Taylor, barged in with an entourage of fuming grannies.

They flopped down on the sofa, demanding I kneel.

"Jessie, back in the day, a woman's jealousy could have gotten you dunked in a pig cage! Being a Taylor means holding yourself with dignity. Logan has his status now, and it's no biggie even if he has an affair. Granny's decided, Bianca stays here; maid work's beneath her."

"And you! Nancy, a mother-in-law having me sort out these petty issues, lucky to even marry into our family, and not a shred of gratitude. I wonder how your mother raised you."

The Taylor aunts and grannies began their tirades, criticizing everything from my education to my family background.

I stormed into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and slammed it down on the coffee table, "Excuse the outburst. Give you an inch, and you take a mile, thinking you can strut around because you're tight with the big guy upstairs! Plus, it's my house, my rules. Meddlers can take an early grave for all I care."

The grannies' faces were an array of expressions, I pried open their mouths and had Mrs. Warner shove the aspirin down, watching them shuffle off with shaky steps. Nancy sighed deeply, suggesting I shouldn't have clashed with them.

They're elders after all, and it's not a good look for me.

Seeing her worry, I understood why Mr. Taylor insisted I handle this circus.

Nancy couldn't muster the backbone, and he couldn't intervene too much as her son.

Curious, I asked how she's endured it all these years,

"A moment of patience saves a thousand of sorrow. Besides, I'm younger; they'll pass on in a few years, and I'll be free."

That gave me a good laugh, not hopeless, just trapped by a lifetime of decorum.

"My mom and I hold a different view. Hold your tongue, risk your health. Step back, and risk even more. Let things slide, and you're asking for trouble. Stand your ground, and the sky's the limit. I'm not around for a century; I might as well enjoy life, no point fretting over false honors."

She stared at me as if I were an alien.

then silently nodded her head, her grip tightening and loosening on my hand.

Mr. Taylor came home that night and handed me a sapphire, commending my actions.

I clutched that gem, showering it with kisses—what a score.

It was crystal clear today; he cared solely about his mother's feelings, even wanted her to take a leaf out of my book.

As for the rest of the grannies, if they don't mess with me, I won't mess with them; if they do, I'll hit back twice as hard!