I PARTED FROM MALAYSIA with a tearful goodbye. We promised we'd keep in touch and that this would only be goodbye for now, but I couldn't help that my thoughts slipped into the negative. What if she finds a new best friend and forgets about me? What if she decides she wants to forget everything from Silver Springs and begin anew? I prayed that this wouldn't be the case but people can be unpredictable sometimes.

If it weren't for the incessant honking of my father, I'm sure I would have stayed in Malaysia's embrace longer. I was a little irked by the fact that he cut the moment I was having with my best friend short and gave him the evil eye throughout the drive back home.

"Okay. Don't be mad lemon, but Grandma Rose is staying in your room and Grandma Gianna is staying in the guest room," My father blurted out at a stoplight, keeping his attention on the road.

My jaw went slack, and my eyebrows furrowed together. "Where am I supposed to sleep then?" I deadpanned.

When my father looked at me with a smile, I shook my head, already anticipating what he was going to say.

"No, I'm not sleeping in the basement. Nuh huh, not gonna happen." I refused, stubbornly crossing my arms over my chest and slumping back in the passenger seat.

"But why not? There's a perfectly good couch down there that has a pull-out bed, and it'd only be for one night," My father reasoned.

The personal reason I have for not wanting to sleep down there might sound silly to some, but I firmly believe basements are hotbeds for supernatural energy. My mother and her mom were both superstitious, and they most definitely passed that trait down to me. In almost every scary movie I saw, something bad happened to whomever was dumb enough to check out the mysterious noise coming from the basement, and I had enough sense not to be that person.

"I'd rather sleep on the living room floor in my sleeping bag," I told him truthfully, but all he did was shake his head.

"We'll talk about this again later. I'm going to need your help in the kitchen when we get home, so I hope you're well rested," Dad changed the topic, gripping the steering wheel tightly to release his frustration.

I nodded my head and continued to glance out of the window for the remainder of the drive.

§

After endless hours spent preparing all the food, listening to screaming matches in Spanish and Italian, and helping to set the table, the four of us were sitting around the table with our heads bowed for grace. My Grandma Gianna was a devout Catholic and lead the prayer over our Thanksgiving meal.

"Heavenly Father, we thank you for this lovely meal in front of us," Grandma Gianna began, but before she could take a breath, Grandma Rose finished the prayer.

"Bless this food in your name. Amen, now let's eat," She said with an excited smile, taking a few pieces of sliced ham and adding some empanadas to her plate.

I fought back a smile as I saw Grandma Gianna roll her eyes and curse under her breath in Italian. I followed Grandma Rose's footsteps and helped myself to a serving of mashed potatoes with gravy, sliced turkey and lemon, empanadas, creamed spinach, and macaroni cheese. My father chose to only eat the Italian food that Grandma Gianna helped make which consisted of lasagna, chicken parmigiana, a roll of Italian bread with butter, and garlic knots. I could tell he was tempted to try the empanadas by the way he was eyeing them but wouldn't dare do so in front of his mother's sworn enemy.

Throughout dinner, both of my grandmothers tried to make small talk with me. Most of the conversation revolved around college applications, working at the restaurant, and my senior year of high school until my Grandma Rose asked about my relationships.

"Well, Malaysia is my best friend. She has been since we moved here, but she's moving to Georgia this weekend and–"

"I didn't ask you about your friendships !Ay dios mio¡ I want to know if you have a novio, Florence," My Grandma bluntly said, causing me to nearly choke on my forkful of turkey.

My father patted my back in concern and handed me a glass of water to help the meat go down. I felt my cheeks flush after my little episode ended and looked up from my plate to meet Grandma Rose's prying hazel eyes.

I had never thought about Harry being my boyfriend before now, but the more I thought about it, the more appealing the idea seemed. I bit my bottom lip to fight the smile threatening to spill across my face. My response to my grandmother was nonverbal, just the shake of my head.

My father grinned wide and threw his arm around my shoulder. "I'm the only man in her life right now Rosenda," Dad said to my grandmother while giving my shoulder a squeeze.

I looked at him with a smile before squeezing the lemon over my turkey and chowing down a few more bites of food. I thought the topic of the conversation would shift away from me and my love life, but Grandma Rose couldn't let go.

"I find that very hard to believe. Florence is such a beautiful girl," Grandma Rose said while sipping on her ice tea.

"She gets it from me," Grandma Gianna stated proudly.

I giggled to myself once my grandmothers began arguing over who I looked like the most. In that moment, I realized how much I had missed them both even though they annoyed me sometimes by arguing so much. I never got to meet my grandfathers because they died before I was born, so I cherished both of my grandmothers very much.

My father cut their bickering short by tapping his spoon against his wine glass. "Ladies, I would like to make a toast," Dad said before rising to his feet with his glass in his hand. "Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays because it reminds me of the importance of family. When Marisol died, I had no idea how I was going to keep the spirit of family alive through Thanksgiving. But my lovely daughter, Florence, was there to remind me everyday of how much I had to be thankful for. You're the best daughter a father could ever ask for, and I know your mom is smiling down at you as she watches over us. I love you so much lemon."

By the time my father finished his speech, tears had welled in my eyes. Judging by the way he kept rubbing at his eyes, I was convinced he was on the verge of crying too. I pushed back my chair, stood up, and gave my father a hug. He set his wineglass down on the table to fully embrace me back.

"I love you too," I mumbled into his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt tightly.

"La mia bella ragazza è tutto quello che ho mai avuto bisogno," He replied, kissing the top of my head.

My beautiful girl is all I ever needed.

Author's Note:

Hey everyone. I hope you've been having a good week so far. I can't wait for Harry Styles' album to drop on May 12th and am even more excited to watch him perform on SNL tomorrow night from my couch.

As usual, feel free to vote, comment, share this story with a friend, or follow me on wattpad.

Question for my readers: What is the nicest thing a family member has said to you?

I personally can't think of anything nice that my family has said to me that wasn't related to academics.

—
Kaylandia