I was stuffed like the turkey my Mom set onto the dining room table earlier. So I should have been happy sitting there, like the fat bastard I was destined to become alongside the other men in my family. The sounds of running water, clanking plates against stainless steel, and the ladies' voices as they gossiped, traveled in from the kitchen. Football played on the living room tv. My Uncle Vito was about to settle his ass into his favorite groove on the sofa, so he could watch the game through his eyelids.

I knew what would happen next. The entire family would raise their voices over his rattling epiglotis. The younger kids would count the seconds in between his snores, to see how long he stopped breathing for. Last year's record was sixty-eight seconds. Cousins Tony and Frankie would take bets on it. Uncle Sal might put some leftover whipped cream onto his brother's hand and then tickle his nose. Then they would argue.

But something was off this year. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. My family was fine, so it wasn't them. It was definitely me. I was the only person left at the table, staring at my plate.

"Eat! Eat Dominic! Why you no toucha the pie? You sick?" My grandmother waddled, due to her bad hips, behind my chair and felt my forehead. I removed her hand and held it in mine."I'm fine Nonna."

My sister Stephanie, the little wise-ass, added her two cents. "I bet he's just too hungover." Nonna lifted her eyebrows. "Dominic?" I nodded my head. "Yes, it's true." Nonna frowned, so I smiled. "I have a food hangover from all of that delicious stuff you made!" She laughed and patted my cheek. "Thatsa my boy." She and my sister continued to clear the dining room table. I got up and walked into the doorway of the living room.

Uncle Sal was rolling his cigar between his fingers and my eyes watched the twirling. The more I watched it spin, the more anxious I felt. The only thing I could compare the feeling to, was when I'm working on writing a song and the harmony isn't working out or I can't get the transition into the bridge the way I want it. So I walk around with the melody stuck in my head, taunting me. That shit makes me want to punch a wall after just a few hours. In the past, I've gone around feeling that way for days or weeks, depending on the song.

And I started feeling this way when Charli walked away from me at the Rec last night.

Inside my brain, I was yelling at myself. "Fuck this shit!" But I couldn't stop watching that cigar and now I was wound as tight as the tobacco leaves that made the goddamned thing!

My Uncle noticed my intense focus on his Dutch Master and pulled a second one from his shirt pocket. "Want one?" I accepted it. "Sure. Thanks." It gave me the perfect excuse to escape outside without hurting my Nonna's feelings. Plus I knew a good smoke would help ease this nagging sensation.

My jacket was in the pile on Nonna's bed. I grabbed it and then passed by the kitchen going toward the front door. My Mom spotted me. "Where are you headed?" I held the cigar aloft. "Uncle Sal gave me this. Gonna smoke it outside." She frowned. "It wouldn't kill you to spend one whole evening with your family. You just spent three months with the boys." I shrugged. "It's only two houses down."

The wrought iron security door slammed behind me, keeping my family safely inside. When I was a kid, my cousins and I would play cops and robbers. The cops would trap the robbers and lock them in the vestibule, because the bars did kind of look like a prison cell. I was always a robber.

I inhaled the crisp November evening. Nonna's cooking is phenomenal; but the abundance of food scents it created mingled with my Uncles' Old Spice, my Aunts' Aqua Net set hair, Cousin Tina's baby's dirty diaper, and the general body odor of that many people packed into a garden-level brownstone apartment. It became overwhelming. The void of scent in the air outside was a relief.

One more huge breath and then I turned toward Trevor's place. We've known each other since we were little kids. I met him when my parents divorced and my Mom and I moved into my Grandma's place, long before Stepdad #1 (my favorite) appeared and my sister was born. Trev was my first friend that wasn't a cousin. We started Kindergarten together and met the other guys in school over the years that followed.

Trev's house had always been the spot because his parents were former hippies. They preferred that their kids party safe at home. And just like in baseball, we all seemed to want to run back there.

Sure enough, as I jogged up their shared driveway, I heard Louie's distinctive wheezing laugh. Sometimes we called him Muttley because he sounded exactly like Dick Dastardly's sidekick dog on that "Wacky Races" cartoon I watched when I was a kid. His snicker bounced off the ThoroSeal coated walls of the two buildings, magnifying it.

"What's so funny, Mutt?" I rounded the corner to find the crew sitting on the deck. Louie wheezed again. "That girl I hooked up with last night turned out to be our old math teacher's daughter. You know the one that failed me?" I opened a folding lawn chair and slid into the seat. "Sweet, sweet revenge." Louie panted again like the dog he was.

Trev and his girlfriend Annemarie came out the back door. He switched on the Christmas lights that were perpetually strung along the fence back here, since it's a holiday year round at The Donnelly's. I wasn't the only one trying to chase away the imminent darkness. "Who needs another?" he asked. The cooler lid creaked open and Trev swirled the ice cubes around. He fished out some more beers and tossed them to anyone that raised a hand. I pulled out the Dutchie and a bag of Master Kush before throwing them at Louie. "Earn your toke." Before he got busy preparing the blunt, Louie rubbed his hands together, like a cartoon villain, to warm them up.

Maggie and Kenny snuggled under a blanket on a chaise lounge together. I nodded at them. "Glad to see you found each other last night." My beer opened with a crack and a hiss. It reminded me of Maggie's threats last night to bust Kenny's head when she found him. "And that everybody's in one piece." I smirked.

Kenny flicked his Marlboro. "You should check my balls." He made his voice high like a young girl's. They all laughed, even Maggie, who maybe would have been pissed on a different night. But I guess she was in a grateful mood what with it being the holiday and all. She smiled at me and nudged Kenny with her elbow. "Maggie told me she introduced you to her co-worker last night, the one you've been ogling since last year. " He was back to his normal voice. "How'd it go with whatshername?"

"Charli." Both Maggie and I said it at the same time. Louie handed me the blunt with a smile. "The boy's name matches the hair." Annemarie glared at Louie. "You're such a fucking moron. You know that right?" Trevor laughed. "She's right. If you can look at that ass and those tits and think 'boy' you are a fucking moron." Annemarie rolled her eyes. "That's not exactly what I meant." They all laughed again, but not me.

I probably should have laughed along with them. I just couldn't do it tonight. Instead, I took out my Zippo, blazed up the Dutchie, took a long pull and held my breath. My jaw clenched, trying to keep the smoke in for as long as possible to let it take its effect. I answered Kenny's question in that strangled tone you get when your teeth are gritted. "Nothing." I blew out and hoped I would feel what I just said. "Absolutely nothing."