Echoes and fireworks (Five minutes freewrite)

A New Year’s Party was the last thing on our minds. Getting through Christmas had already been tough, each of us at home, by unspoken agreement, no family gathering, no festive dinner.
And then Trixie called, all chirpy and excited - she wanted to throw this huge party and we were all to come. Me, our sister Lydia and, of course, our younger brother, Ben with his pregnant wife, Molly. I was so stunned by this sudden invitation I didn’t catch all the names she mentioned, but it was safe to assume all the people she knew were invited.
Lydia was just as confused as I was. None of us fancied the idea, Molly and Ben were simply aghast, yet there was no way we could refuse. At times like this, families need to pull together, so we resigned ourselves to a disastrous party and joined in the preparations.
Trixie really outdid herself - all the house was plastered with Happy New Year banners, golden tinsel and red balloons. The kitchen was full of trays with finger foods. While we carried the food to the table, Trixie took care of the drinks, quite a lot of bottles for a family party, with six small children. On the other hand, we did need something strong to warm up the frozen atmosphere. Only a couple of her friends showed up, which was not surprising, nobody in their right minds would want to be at that party.

I had a couple of stiff drinks myself, as soon as we arrived, which is why I don’t remember much of what was said. Small-talk, mind-numbing bullshit we threw around randomly to keep the conversation going. God-forbid there was any moment of silence, giving us the time to look around for there was no way we could’ ve ignored the obvious. As the eldest of the lot, Lydia went to great lengths to keep us entertained, launching into a detailed description of her new boss and the weird way he walked like a duck. Even the children started to laugh seeing her waddling around. At that point I told myself there was maybe a chance we could pull it off and pretend to be one big happy family, at least for one night.
Then the kids started a fight over a couple of heart-shaped balloons and it was my Macy who won the fight. When she came to our couch to show us her trophy we all froze seeing the pink monstrosity she was holding in her hand. ‘Happy Birthday’, the red inscription read. We instantly knew it was a left-over balloon from the twins’s birthday last May. When Lilla and Alicia turned five. Ben tried to turn the music louder, but it was too late. Trixie was staring at the damn thing and we were staring at her, waiting for the inevitable. It was again Lydia that silently caught Trixie in her arms and she cried with her face buried in her big sister’s dark locks. When her wails grew louder, she caught her wrists so she wouldn’t hurt herself as we’ve all witnessed her doing in the two months since the accident, which had claimed her family, the girls and her husband, Jeff.
Fireworks could already be heard in the neighborhood, but none of us said anything. When Trixie finally calmed down, we just sat and drank and talked. Mostly about the twins and about Jeff. It was stupid to try and put them in the past, Trixie admitted, they were still painfully present in their absence.

Story written for @mariannewest's freewrite challenge. Today's prompt was: food to the table! Check out her blog and join our freewrite community.

Thanks for reading!

Image: Pixabay