Welcome to the Family
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by Anna Vallée
Hi everyone. Wow, it’s hot! I’m sweating bullets, so I’ll try to get through this quickly. For those who don’t know me, I’m Greg. Thanks for coming out to celebrate my brother and his beautiful bride, Ashlee. I know we had a snafu with the cake a few minutes ago. Some of it fell or got knocked over by a klutz. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I have a theory that the wedding coordinator might be able to confirm. I found her in the hallway pacing back-and-forth, up-and-down while talking on the phone with the hotel manager. She’s a little upset. We’re all a little upset. It looked like a real classy cake with some, what do you call that? Piping? That’s a nice touch. It’s a shame it got knocked down. They’re trying to fix it, so I’ll go ahead and make my speech. Don’t worry, Ashlee. It’s going to be fine. We’ll all get a slice soon. There must be a hundred and fifty people in this banquet hall. Could some of you stand up? Ashlee, I bet you don’t recognize a lot of these faces. To tell you the truth, neither do I. I hardly knew Uncle Ronny sitting with my parents, and I’ve never seen my Dad done up in a suit like that. I half expected him to wear his Bears jersey. He could have shaved his mustache though. Like a red, wooly caterpillar crawling on his fucking lip. Love you, Dad! Ashlee, please make sure my brother doesn’t ever grow a mustache. This speech won’t take long. I didn’t plan anything formal, and I’m not good with words, but I'll make it long enough for them to fix the cake. It was a moving service at Eternal Hope. Very wholesome, very spiritual. We all walked up that little hill to the church, even Grandma with her walker and her bad knees. On the way she gave me a peppermint out of her pocket. Isn’t that right, Grandma? I said: a peppermint. That was nice. She keeps them just in case, and she must have thought I needed one before the ceremony. My family doesn’t go to church often, and we could use a little religion in our lives. So that was good, especially for Mom. It’s strange to be here, in the Hyatt near O’Hare. I can’t even see everyone in the back of the banquet hall. Could you stand up? Thanks for coming. The hotel’s in the middle of nowhere, near a strip mall with a nail salon and vape shop. I guess that could come in handy if any of you need to smoke. And there’s a Burger King across the street if you’re hungry after all the drinking. It’s not an open bar though, so don’t get too sloshed, and if you do go outside, be careful crossing the street. The traffic can be dangerous. I drive down this strip of I-294 every day for work, and I used to think it was the most desolate, lonely, decrepit place on earth. There are no trees or foliage along the interstate, just a bunch of burnt-out lamp posts and graffiti. Then there’s the roar of airplanes overhead and the rush of cars. What a shithole, that’s what I thought. But I’ll admit, inside this banquet hall I can hardly hear the traffic. There aren’t any windows, so that helps. And the decorations look nice. What are those, real roses? No? They’re not real? Could have fooled me. I bet you picked the flowers, Ashlee. My only complaint is that it’s a little hot in here. I’m a big guy, so I guess I run hot. Look at my shirt. It’s going to be transparent by the end of the night. Let me just loosen my tie a bit. That’s better. Did you all get something to eat? I’m a little nervous, so I didn’t eat much. I made the mistake of ordering the salmon. Never order frozen fish in the Midwest. That’s not your fault, Ashlee. It’s all free, so who am I to complain? The booze isn’t free though. Tell that to Uncle Ronny. Did somebody take his car keys? Make sure that son of a bitch doesn’t drive. Don’t worry. I’m almost done. I just saw the wedding coordinator go back to check on the cake. You’ll eat dessert and we’ll dance on that vinyl dance floor they’ve set up in the middle of the room. Everyone will dance and smile at each other even though this room looks gloomy at the moment. Smile more, people! What’s more hopeful and inspiring than a wedding? Having someone to take care of you, someone to love you unconditionally. That’s a rare thing in life. I wish me and my brother had more of it growing up. The only time Dad was around was for our hockey games, and the only time I saw him cry was when the Cubs won the World Series. Big fat tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t cry today during the service, but what do I know about it? The guy is a locked door. No, my brother and I were alone a lot growing up. It was just Mom at home. Maybe you can’t tell now that she’s all boxy in that red sequin dress, but she was good looking at one point. Had us young. Both of those things wreak havoc on a family: having a young, good-looking mother. Our house was never clean. I’ve been over to your house, Ashlee. It smells nice. The carpet doesn’t have little crumbs from potato chips; it isn’t damp or moldy from spilled beer; it doesn’t have that sour stench of marijuana that clings to its fibers, and there’s no cat litter that sticks to the bottom of your bare feet. Cat litter, Ashlee. It leaves craters in your skin even after you brush it off. My brother and I spent a lot of time on the rug in front of the TV watching Ren and Stimpy, South Park, and Aqua Teen Hunger Force. It’s an animated show with talking junk food, Ashlee. It was a good show, but too much TV will rot your brain. I said too much TV will rot your brain. Just look at my brother. He’s a sweetheart, God love him, but he’s never going to be a contestant on Jeopardy. He's better than a lot of these scumbags and freeloaders though. My brother isn’t a drinker, and we have a few drinkers in our family. You know the reason Uncle Ronny shouldn’t drive? It’s because he killed a kid going seventy with a BAC of 0.43. Right on this very interstate. The kid was sixteen, and Ronny did almost twenty years for it. Now he’s out and sitting near the front. What Dad? Was it your idea to invite him? Who thought that was a good idea? I said WHO THOUGHT THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA? Oh, they’re bringing the cake out. Jesus, it’s hot in here. Can somebody turn on a fan? That entire cake is going to melt before they can cut it, and that lady looks like she’s ready to blow her salmon dinner on this blue carpet. I should stop, I know I haven’t been very nice, but I have a few more things to say. I’ll get on with it while they’re passing the plates around. No, no, don’t give me that look. I’ll be nice, don’t worry. I’m sorry I said those things about my mother. It’s just that I heard her arguing with Dad about money before this in the hallway. I guess the bill hadn’t been paid for some of the stuff they promised to cover. The wedding coordinator was there. At some point things got heated and Mom may or may not have tried to push Dad but lost her balance. I didn’t see the whole thing, but I think she ran into the table that was holding the three-tiered vanilla wedding cake with the white frosting and red piping that was waiting to be served to all you fine guests. Don’t be upset, Ashlee. It’s not your fault. Look, the cake is just fine. They cut off the part that got ruined. I’m so glad my brother is marrying you, Ashlee. You’ll be a great mother. I can tell by looking at you that you’ll never hit your children, Ashlee. You wouldn’t do that. Not even if they were bedwetters. Not even if they pissed the bed every night for a month. Not even if, despite said bedwetting, they screamed and cried for thirty minutes before going to sleep because they wanted a glass of water. You wouldn’t do it, Ashlee, because you know corporal punishment doesn't work, does it? I still wet the bed sometimes. MOM, YOU HEAR THAT? I SAID, I STILL WET THE BED SOMETIMES! Did someone just throw cake at me? That woman with the mole on her face just threw her plate near my feet. What’s that? Fuck you, too! Why don’t you come and shut it for me?! That was an old high school buddy of ours, Ashlee. Actually, a really nice guy. I dunno what the hell he’s doing here. Thank you for coming. Oh, you’ve all finished your cake. Everyone is getting up from their tables, and you look angry. Uncle Ronny is reaching in his pocket for something. What’s that? Music? MUSIC, ASHLEE! THEY’RE PLAYING MUSIC! They’ve dimmed the lights and started the disco ball. They’re coming toward me, probably going to trample me to death to the sound of the “YMCA” or “Cha Cha Slide.” But not you, Ashlee, right? You’re not angry with me. Even if you are, you’ll understand soon enough that I was right. Maybe a chubby, bedwetting insurance salesman will start looking good compared to the rest of these losers. You’ll see soon enough. Soon enough, Ashlee. You’ll see I was right all along. Just wait. Welcome to the family, Ashlee. You’ll see. Welcome to the fam-- Anna Vallée is a writer, MFA student, coeditor of Literally, and creative writing instructor. SHARE - Issue: 1.8 / April 2026 |