Heptapetalous. By CpSingleton © 2016
It was the annual enforced family get-together. An opportunity to give thanks to the word “Choose”.
It was set into three parts.
Part One: The Journey There.
It was usually held at my parents house. They never travelled for longer than times between their soap operas, and we all lived far enough away that at least one would be missed.
It meant, therefore, they Carol, my wife, and I would come from the west; Don, my older brother, and his wife, Helen, would come from the south; and my sister, Taz, and her wife, Marty, would come from the North. We would converge to gorge and relive the joys of the past.
This year, however, Taz was having to work. Which was a shame, because I preferred her to my older brother, Don. She was less…you’ll find out.
‘We could have a flat tyre?’ Carol suggested, as we clattered along the long grey M16 motorway.
‘Don would use his recovery subscription to pick us up,’ I shrugged, hands at seven and five. ‘He’d then rub the fact so far into my skin that my marrow would be exposed,’ I added.
‘True,’ Carol laughed. ‘Sickness bug? You know your dad would freak if he thought you were carrying sickness into his house.’
‘That would have to be a quick onset,’ I again shrugged. ‘He rang me when you were in the shower, to make sure we were going to be on time, as Mum is cooking and knows what we’re like.’
I nodded a reply, while all the time keeping my eyes on the busy road.
‘So, no turning back, then?’ Carol laughed.
‘No turning back, then,’ I groaned in reply.